Larry did the same, but he tried to keep his shoes on. I unzipped the coverall and stepped out of it. I untied the Nikes and stepped carefully on the gravel road. He was looking at me sort of suspiciously. I hadn't gone out for Big Macs after that one. Not enough left to fill a gallon-size baggie. I'd seen human bodies reduced to a roomful of blood and gobbets of unrecognizable flesh. Which means you learn to eat after seeing cut-up bodies." I didn't add that I'd seen worse. "I've been going to murder scenes for nearly three years, Larry. "How can you even think of stuff like that so soon after." He let the words trail off. He swallowed hard, looking just a little paler than he had a second ago. "Well, I wouldn't want to face a plate of spaghetti, or steak tartare, but yeah, I could eat." Not so long ago, the answer would have been no. "Could you really eat after what we just saw?" There was enough light left for me to see him search my face. "The first time you offer me food voluntarily, and I don't think I can eat." He stared at me. "That I believe." The smile faded slowly from his face. "You wanting to stop for food, that's a first. Larry looked up at the coming night, and said, "We can get back and walk the graveyard for Stirling." When we stumbled to the road, and our waiting Jeep, it was only dusk. It was so dark under the trees that I wished for a flashlight. Darkness slides from the trees and fills them first, then spreads outward to the open places. People who don't camp much think darkness falls from the sky.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |