The Border Part Eight Read Online Free Page B

his throat. “Probably less than a thousand of them ever have a shot at real, true love. In fact… Hell, I don’t even believe love exists.”
    “You don’t?”
    “It’s a human construct. It’s a word that’s used to cover over other emotions like pity and sympathy and… I don’t know, dependance. Fear. All those things are real, but love? No way.”
    “That’s…” She paused. “That’s horrible.”
    “It’s true, so get used to it.”
    She took a deep breath. “No,” she said finally. “No, I don’t believe that, not for one second. I think love is absolutely real. No-one goes through life without at least loving one time, and being loved. No-one. We all get… It’s like we all get a little credit in the love department when we’re born. All of us.” She felt a shiver pass through her body as she realized that Tom wasn’t as much fun as she’d expected. “You know what?” she called out, grabbing her shirt. “I think actually while you’re out, I’m going to -”
    Suddenly the light over the bathroom mirror blinked off, and she realized there seemed to be no power in the house at all. The adjacent bedroom was dark too.
    “Tom?” she called out.
    Silence.
    “Tom, there’s a power -”
    Before she could finish, she spotted lights through the bathroom window. Making her way over, she peered out and saw that the neighbors’ houses were all lit up as normal.
    “Huh,” she muttered, turning and fumbling across the bathroom, unable to see a thing until she reached Tom’s bedroom. At least here, there was just the faintest hint of moonlight showing through the window, which meant she could see the dark shapes of the bed and the wardrobe, as well as the door in the corner.
    She waited.
    The house seemed so completely silent. Even the air-conditioning system was off.
    “Bob?”
    No reply.
    “Are you checking the fuses?”
    She took a few steps forward, passing the bed.
    “Bob, I really think -”
    Stopping suddenly, she realized there was a figure at the far end of the corridor, framed in silhouette against the moonlit kitchen. She opened her mouth to call out, but instead she tilted her head slightly, squinting in an attempt to get a better view of the figure. Deep down, she could already feel a sense of panic slowly starting to creep up through her belly, but she told herself that nothing was wrong, that nothing could possibly be wrong.
    “Candy,” she remembered Bob saying one day in bed, “no offense, but your instincts are always a little screwy.”
    She had been offended when he’d said that, even though she hadn’t let it show. Now, however, she was hoping he was right, because her instincts were setting off all kinds of warnings.
    “Tom?” she said cautiously.
    “Candy,” the figure replied, in Tom’s voice.
    “Oh, thank God,” she said with a sigh. Making her way along the corridor, she felt genuine relief. “What the hell is going on, is there some kind of -”
    She stopped a few feet from him, as she realized that he was wearing something that didn’t seem quite right. He seemed slightly taller, as if he was wearing boots with thicker soles, but the most striking different was his head: he was wearing some kind of head-dress or mask, with a series of broken twigs and branches poking up like a kind of crown. There was something extremely calm and peaceful about him, too, as if his heart was the only thing moving in his entire body.
    Instinctively, she took a step back.
    “Tom?” she said finally. “What are you wearing?”
    “You wouldn’t understand,” he replied flatly.
    “I…” She paused. “But what is it?”
    “It’s not mine,” he continued. “I’m just the current occupant. Part of a tradition.”
    “Huh.” Figuring that she really didn’t want to get into anything too kinky, she turned and made her way back toward the bedroom. “Well, I’m just gonna grab my bag,” she told him, hoping to keep things as normal as possible even though she