White Horse by Alex Adams Read Free Book Online Page B

There’s no sand. The beaches are pebble, the water still. I feel … like I’m the only person left on earth. So I crouch down and pick up a smooth stone, and when I stand I feel there’s someone behind me. A woman. I can’t see her but I know she’s there.”
    “Because you’ve had the dream before?”
    His smile is reluctant. His eyes dark and serious. “Many times. It always plays out the same. When I turn, I’m almost deafened by the sound of a single gunshot. Red blooms across her stomach. It spreads fast until she’s covered in her own blood. I race to her, scoop her up as she falls, but it’s too late. And I am helpless.”
    “The man who would help everyone is helpless,” I say.
    “Not everyone.” He smiles. “Anyone on a reality TV show is screwed.”
    Sunshine. He smells of sunshine. My eyes close for just a moment and I’m standing out in my grandmother’s yard, surrounded by fresh sheets being slow-baked under a high summer sun. When I open my eyes, he’s watching me.
    “What do you think it means?”
    He shrugs, taps the Stop button, and we start moving again.
    “Nothing. It’s just a dream.” A dimple breaks the plane of his cheek. “Unless it’s not. I’ll make you a deal. Take action in your dream. Tip the jar. See what lies beneath.”
    “And if I do that?”
    “I’ll take you out to dinner.”
    It’s what I want; I know that.
    We lurch as the elevator stops. He’s still watching me, the question in his eyes, waiting on my answer.
    The words catch in my throat, then shake themselves loose. “I’msorry,” I say, “but it wouldn’t be right. But if the world ends tomorrow, understand that I regret saying no.”
    The world doesn’t end the next day. Or the day after that. But six months later, humanity is too busy circling the drain for any of us to worry about dates we didn’t accept.
DATE: NOW
    The day grinds on. Each hour heavier than the last. Theoretically they should be getting lighter as I get closer to Brindisi, but like any theory it’s there to be disproven.
    When I mention this to Lisa she asks, “What’s in Brindisi?”
    “Boats. More specifically, a boat. The Elpis .”
    “Can I come?”
    This morning she was glassy-eyed, but now she’s clear and bright. Her chest bones are a skin-covered xylophone peeking out of the V-neck of her shirt. Mine are the same beneath my raincoat.
    “If you want to.” Though where she’d go without me hadn’t entered my thoughts until now. “I’m counting on it.”
    “Yay.” She gives a little clap. “Where’s the boat going?”
    “Greece.”
    “Why go there?”
    “Because I’m meeting someone.”
    She chews on this for a moment. “What if they’re not there?”
    “They will be.”
    “But what if they’re not?”
    “They will be.”
    “They will be,” she parrots.
DATE: THEN
    Ben’s eyes are bloodshot; a snot droplet hangs from the reddened rim of his left nostril.
    “Have you seen Stiffy?”
    It’s 2:53 a.m. I haven’t seen anything but my crazy dreams for the past five hours. I try to think. When did I last see his cat? The night James came over? That was two, no, three nights ago. Have I seen the marmalade tomcat since then?
    “Is he missing?”
    My question is stupid. Of course he’s missing, otherwise Ben wouldn’t be here searching. But the sleep has scrambled my head and I haven’t yet untangled myself from its hold.
    Ben wipes the back of his hand across his nose. He pulls his omnipresent brown cardigan tighter around his narrow body. He’s pale, I see that now, and not just from the hallway’s harsh light.
    “Yeah. For a couple days now. It’s not like him, you know?”
    “He likes his food.”
    “Yeah.”
    I feel bad for Ben; Stiffy is all he has. “I’ll keep an eye out, okay? I have to work in a few hours, but I’ll help you look for him tonight.”
    “Really?”
    I make all the right noises and Ben retreats. Sleep doesn’t come again. It’s done with me for the night.