The Physics Of The Dead - A Supernatural Mystery Novel Read Online Free
Author: Luke Smitherd
the greatest pain he will ever know—that will come from The Train of course—though he doesn't know this yet. That will be physical agony so great and so lasting that he will brush against madness, and he will discover why madness is to be feared above all else here.
The next thing he's aware of is the voice again, the voice that hasn't shut up, that blessedly hasn't shut up and he's more grateful than the voice's owner will ever know. The voice is breathless and desperate now, almost shouting. Its owner has seen something.
“ Can you hear me? Can you hear me? I can see you! I can see you properly now! Hello? Hello?! Do any kind of gesture, anything!”
And he nods in response, and with that he realises he has a head now, and with this knowledge comes the sensation that the rest of his body has also arrived. He still can’t see, but he thinks that will come very soon. He stretches his hands and realises something isn't right, but he can't tell what yet ... he's lighter, lighter than he should be, but it's a sensation that he can't understand. He'll later realise it's because there's no gravity. No air. No breeze.
The voice gasps, and continues tremulously.
“ Have you been able to hear me … all this time?”
He's still figuring out what's going on with his body, but he nods again, even though it makes him feel sick. He owes the voice that.
The voice sighs, and there's silence, and then he realises the voice is laughing with relief. When it speaks again there are reluctant tears in the laughter.
“ Well ... well. I didn't think ... heh ... d'you know, I didn't believe for one solitary second that that would actually ... bloody ... work .”
***
Wednesday morning, the shopping precinct. Hart always liked this time of day; he liked the hustle and bustle. People rushing, talking on mobile phones—Hart desperately wanted to try one of those, despite himself—late for work, shopping, kids skiving, sitting on the edge of the large fountain set in the middle of the crossroads, the heart of the city centre rush.
Bowler liked it too, but for him the reason was being able to see the people more easily. It wasn't as hard in the daytime, and he didn't have to strain. Today, George had joined them.
George was the Guest—out of the three that they associated with, the three that would actually come near to them and 'talk'—that they hung around with most in The Foyer. This was because George was the one Hart tuned in with the most frequently—which was still extremely rare—and because he was so damn likable. Even Bowler had noticed something odd about the way that the five of them could keep finding each other—most of the time—when they wanted to. The Foyer covered an area of roughly one square mile, full of buildings and other visual obstacles. All the Guests obviously moved independently of each other (apart from Hart and Bowler) and so it would be expected that the ‘friends’ would run into each other a lot less than they did … and yet somehow, that wasn't the case. Hart and Bowler had many discussions on the matter—Hart holding court with Bowler left trying to get a word in—and the general theory that Hart held, and Bowler agreed with, was that it was all to do with energy. Perhaps they sensed each other subconsciously, heading towards each other half the time without realising it. It was the thing that seemed to make the most sense, despite the eventual physical discomfort that would begin after spending time in each other's presence; after a short while, they would have to part until it passed and their bodies returned to normal.
They sat quietly, people watching. George, of course, was totally silent to their ears. Bowler knew very little about George, struggling more than Hart with the ‘gestures only’ conversation. Hart knew more of the man, partly due to his being better practiced at both miming it and reading it, but mainly due to his ability to occasionally tune in with
The next thing he's aware of is the voice again, the voice that hasn't shut up, that blessedly hasn't shut up and he's more grateful than the voice's owner will ever know. The voice is breathless and desperate now, almost shouting. Its owner has seen something.
“ Can you hear me? Can you hear me? I can see you! I can see you properly now! Hello? Hello?! Do any kind of gesture, anything!”
And he nods in response, and with that he realises he has a head now, and with this knowledge comes the sensation that the rest of his body has also arrived. He still can’t see, but he thinks that will come very soon. He stretches his hands and realises something isn't right, but he can't tell what yet ... he's lighter, lighter than he should be, but it's a sensation that he can't understand. He'll later realise it's because there's no gravity. No air. No breeze.
The voice gasps, and continues tremulously.
“ Have you been able to hear me … all this time?”
He's still figuring out what's going on with his body, but he nods again, even though it makes him feel sick. He owes the voice that.
The voice sighs, and there's silence, and then he realises the voice is laughing with relief. When it speaks again there are reluctant tears in the laughter.
“ Well ... well. I didn't think ... heh ... d'you know, I didn't believe for one solitary second that that would actually ... bloody ... work .”
***
Wednesday morning, the shopping precinct. Hart always liked this time of day; he liked the hustle and bustle. People rushing, talking on mobile phones—Hart desperately wanted to try one of those, despite himself—late for work, shopping, kids skiving, sitting on the edge of the large fountain set in the middle of the crossroads, the heart of the city centre rush.
Bowler liked it too, but for him the reason was being able to see the people more easily. It wasn't as hard in the daytime, and he didn't have to strain. Today, George had joined them.
George was the Guest—out of the three that they associated with, the three that would actually come near to them and 'talk'—that they hung around with most in The Foyer. This was because George was the one Hart tuned in with the most frequently—which was still extremely rare—and because he was so damn likable. Even Bowler had noticed something odd about the way that the five of them could keep finding each other—most of the time—when they wanted to. The Foyer covered an area of roughly one square mile, full of buildings and other visual obstacles. All the Guests obviously moved independently of each other (apart from Hart and Bowler) and so it would be expected that the ‘friends’ would run into each other a lot less than they did … and yet somehow, that wasn't the case. Hart and Bowler had many discussions on the matter—Hart holding court with Bowler left trying to get a word in—and the general theory that Hart held, and Bowler agreed with, was that it was all to do with energy. Perhaps they sensed each other subconsciously, heading towards each other half the time without realising it. It was the thing that seemed to make the most sense, despite the eventual physical discomfort that would begin after spending time in each other's presence; after a short while, they would have to part until it passed and their bodies returned to normal.
They sat quietly, people watching. George, of course, was totally silent to their ears. Bowler knew very little about George, struggling more than Hart with the ‘gestures only’ conversation. Hart knew more of the man, partly due to his being better practiced at both miming it and reading it, but mainly due to his ability to occasionally tune in with
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