Sunken Graves by Alan Lee (life books to read txt) 📗

about your damn leg,” said Murray.

Jennings made a noise, sounded like he’d been punched. He flinched away from the phone, scalded by the hot truth.

“This is special forces PTSD shit, Jennings.”

Jennings’ missing foot shouted at him with phantom pain. The hurt grabbed him, took him away. “I…”

“You still there?”

“I have to do this,” said Jennings.

“What? I couldn’t hear you.”

“I have to do this.” Jennings closed his eyes and tasted bile. “I have to. Have to.”

“No you don’t. You need help.”

Jennings felt the oncoming might of anxiety and rage. Weapons carried by his memories.

Murray was correct—the current danger had intertwined itself into his military service; his new friends had taken their place in Afghanistan, screaming at the rockets. He was a medic, he kept people alive, even at great cost. Somehow if he helped get Daisy and Coach Murray and Craig Lewis to safety, he wasn’t an irredeemable failure.

He’d lost one already. The enemy was free but in his crosshairs.

His friends, Jimmy Logan and Corey Lowe. Lying in pieces in the sand. His friend, Craig Lewis.

“Jennings. Daniel? Listen to me. Can you talk? I’m on the way over. Me and Daisy. You just stay alive until then. You got me? Daniel.”

Unwanted film played between Jennings’ ears, a projector he couldn’t stop. He turned his face against it. But the sound and noise swelled.

A sweet voice. Speaking to him, an angel.

A voice he knew from lifetimes past. A woman. She kept talking and he followed her notes. She spoke and darkness was forced to hide. The grief wasn’t destroyed but it was kept in abeyance.

Daniel opened his eyes.

He was on the bed. A woman sat on a chair beside him.

“Daisy.”

“I have water. And the bottle of Xanax I found in your bathroom, if you need it,” she said.

“What’re you doing here?”

“Coach Murray and I both came. He left ten minutes ago. If we go to the hospital, he’ll meet us there.”

Jennings sat up. Rubbed his eyes. Wondered if this was the afterlife. “What happened? What time is it?”

“Ten. At night. Daniel, when was the last time you slept?”

Jennings shot an eye to the carpet. The shotgun and his tools were in the corner, evidence of an unsound mind.

“I don’t know. Last week?”

“Should we go to the hospital?

“Maybe. If I can’t sleep tonight, yeah, I’ll go.”

“Good. That’s the response of a good and wise man. If you do, I’ll drive.”

He stood and crutched to the restroom. Splashed cold water on his face to wake up. Returning, he glanced in the mirror—a pale corpse stared back with sunken eyes.

“Are you hungry?” she said.

“Starving.”

“I have pizza baking in the oven. You look like you need some.”

He did.

They chatted at the table, the empty pizza box between them. Jennings felt reborn. He tried to remember his last meal and couldn’t. The same was true for a shower and a good sleep.

He produced the best grin he couldn’t. “This isn’t how I thought our first date would go.”

“This is our second.”

“At the coffee shop? That didn’t count.”

“It did to me, Daniel.” She played with a napkin. “How bad is it? Are you thinking of killing yourself?”

“I’m not suicidal. I wasn’t even depressed. But after Craig died I couldn’t think straight.”

She nodded, looking hopeful. “That’s understandable. Especially in light of your history.”

“Something about the wound not being healed yet.”

“Maybe that’s one that never will.”

“I have proof, Daisy. Do you remember the field Lynch mentioned on your date? He buries bodies out there. I found the sunken spots. He thought I was about to die so he confessed.”

“Are you sure? Can you trust yourself?”

“I’m positive. I told my attorney and we’re supposed to figure it out soon. I just…fell apart in the waiting.”

“You’re allowed to do that, I think. As long as you come back.”

Jennings took her hand and squeezed. She returned the pressure and neither released. Jennings wanted to tell her that she’d probably saved his life again, that he’d been on the verge of driving to Lynch’s and pulling a trigger, but that seemed too weighty and awful a truth to admit.

“What do we do?” she said.

“We don’t die.”

She smiled. “I like it.”

“We don’t die and we get you away from Lynch. Once we’re gone, I’ll call my lawyer and figure out what to do.”

“I’m not going to his Christmas party, that’s certain.”

Jennings’ blinks were longer, the pizza filling him with a fuzzy calm. “Agreed. We’ll be on the road by then.”

“You want to leave tomorrow?”

“Lynch is insane. Once you skip the party, he might come after you.”

“Let’s sleep on it. If you still want to in the morning, I’ll call in sick and pack.”

“I’m thinking clearly about this, Daisy. Finally. For a long time, this was personal. I made it personal, a fight between me and Lynch. It was about him, but it was about me and my issues, and it was about my past. I see it now. I was exhausted from teaching and Lynch rattled me and then Craig died and I…I lost control.”

“Do you believe you have it back now? You look better.”

“I feel better now than I have since before Craig died. I feel good enough to realize that I need a few more days. I feel good enough to realize we’re outgunned. We’ll be safer away from here,” said Jennings.

“I trust you.”

“Tomorrow.” He stood and crushed the pizza box and shoved it into the trash.

“Do you think Coach Murray is in danger?”

Jennings yawned so big his jaw cracked. “No. All Lynch wants to do to Murray is fire him. It’s you I’m worried about. Tomorrow afternoon we’re driving straight to a cabin in the Smoky Mountains and I’m not bringing you home until Lynch is in handcuffs.”

“It almost sounds romantic.” Her cheeks pinked. “If you didn’t smell so bad.”

“Nothing a shower can’t fix.”

“And sleep, Daniel.”

“I’m headed to bed. My eyes aren’t staying open. Do you mind?”

“No. But I’m sitting beside your bed until you fall asleep.”

“I can manage it on my own. I know I don’t look