Read Online Shine Your Light on Me by Lee Thompson - Free Book Online
Authors: Lee Thompson
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bombs detonate by remote control instead of timers, but he didn’t know anything about remote controls and he would have worried that someone’s cell phone, or something else, would have set them off anyway.
The ground disappeared beneath his right foot and he pitched forward, his arms pinwheeling backwards, his breath pluming, and a short, sharp cry exploding from his throat.
He hit the ground and rolled, and snow and water wet his neck and cheeks and hands.
He lay there for a second, unhurt, but startled. The sky was a vast white nothingness.
Bobby sat up, the seat of his pants wet. He’d been going too deep into his own head, which he felt had always been one of his greatest strengths and most massive flaws.
He dug his fingers into the frozen grass beneath him and got up and shook himself off like a wet dog. The cold clung to him. He saw something in the snow straight ahead, just a dark shape. He stepped toward it cautiously, one hand out in front of him, trying to distinguish what the shape might be. It was nearly five feet tall, blurred, squared off.
His imagination led him down a path where he had stumbled into a graveyard and he knew that what he’d find was a headstone with his name on it, the date of his birth, the day of his death, the epigraph reading: He lived a bit too long ...
But the shape moved and a voice said from beyond the curtain of snow Bobby was parting, ten feet away now, “You up to some kind of mischief, Bobby?”
“Who’s there?”
“It’s Pine.”
“What do you want?”
“Saw you fall, wondered if you were hurt.”
“I’m okay,” Bobby said. “Thanks.”
“What are you doing out on a night like this?”
“Just walking.”
Pine turned on the headlight of his four-wheeler and it cut through the darkness easy enough, made the snowflakes glisten and sparkle. It was kind of beautiful, Bobby thought, he thought Cindy would have liked it, but then Pine said, “You need a ride somewhere?”
“I appreciate it, but no thanks. I ain’t got far to go.”
“You hate as much as the next person, don’t you?”
“Excuse me?”
“Are you afraid of me?”
“Everybody is.”
“I’m talking about you, as an individual.”
He wasn’t sure what Pine wanted him to say. All Bobby wanted was to go home and change into a dry pair of clothes and set his alarm and curl up in a blanket for a few hours before he made the trek back to the water tower. That was if the snow let up and he could find his way. He still had no idea where he was; Pine rode his four-wheeler wherever he felt like.
“You hear me, Bobby?”
“I’m afraid of you, so what?”
“Good,” Pine said, “you should be. Especially when it’s just me and you out here, all alone, and both of us concealed. It leads a man to wonder, doesn’t it? If maybe, once we learn to keep our eyes open, how opportunities present themselves which allow us to use our gifts. Hone them, if you like. What do you think?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“I’m saying the two of us could be here right now because God wants us here. I was just praying for something to do because I was bored out of my skull, and then you stumble down that hill like a drunk and land almost in my lap. Like destiny, you know?”
Bobby knew and it scared the hell out of him.
He figured he should try and run, but then Pine was on his four-wheeler and there wasn’t outrunning that thing even if it’d been the middle of summer and he had all the energy of youth behind him.
He swallowed hard and said, “I’m not out to cause you any problems.”
“I want to hurt someone real bad,” Pine said.
“Hurt someone else.”
“I’d like to do that, but she’s not around and you are.”
“You do that, and then you should go into the school first thing in the morning and tell everybody there about it. They love hearing your stories.”
“Do they?”
“Sure.”
“That’s funny. I don’t ever tell anybody what I do
The ground disappeared beneath his right foot and he pitched forward, his arms pinwheeling backwards, his breath pluming, and a short, sharp cry exploding from his throat.
He hit the ground and rolled, and snow and water wet his neck and cheeks and hands.
He lay there for a second, unhurt, but startled. The sky was a vast white nothingness.
Bobby sat up, the seat of his pants wet. He’d been going too deep into his own head, which he felt had always been one of his greatest strengths and most massive flaws.
He dug his fingers into the frozen grass beneath him and got up and shook himself off like a wet dog. The cold clung to him. He saw something in the snow straight ahead, just a dark shape. He stepped toward it cautiously, one hand out in front of him, trying to distinguish what the shape might be. It was nearly five feet tall, blurred, squared off.
His imagination led him down a path where he had stumbled into a graveyard and he knew that what he’d find was a headstone with his name on it, the date of his birth, the day of his death, the epigraph reading: He lived a bit too long ...
But the shape moved and a voice said from beyond the curtain of snow Bobby was parting, ten feet away now, “You up to some kind of mischief, Bobby?”
“Who’s there?”
“It’s Pine.”
“What do you want?”
“Saw you fall, wondered if you were hurt.”
“I’m okay,” Bobby said. “Thanks.”
“What are you doing out on a night like this?”
“Just walking.”
Pine turned on the headlight of his four-wheeler and it cut through the darkness easy enough, made the snowflakes glisten and sparkle. It was kind of beautiful, Bobby thought, he thought Cindy would have liked it, but then Pine said, “You need a ride somewhere?”
“I appreciate it, but no thanks. I ain’t got far to go.”
“You hate as much as the next person, don’t you?”
“Excuse me?”
“Are you afraid of me?”
“Everybody is.”
“I’m talking about you, as an individual.”
He wasn’t sure what Pine wanted him to say. All Bobby wanted was to go home and change into a dry pair of clothes and set his alarm and curl up in a blanket for a few hours before he made the trek back to the water tower. That was if the snow let up and he could find his way. He still had no idea where he was; Pine rode his four-wheeler wherever he felt like.
“You hear me, Bobby?”
“I’m afraid of you, so what?”
“Good,” Pine said, “you should be. Especially when it’s just me and you out here, all alone, and both of us concealed. It leads a man to wonder, doesn’t it? If maybe, once we learn to keep our eyes open, how opportunities present themselves which allow us to use our gifts. Hone them, if you like. What do you think?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“I’m saying the two of us could be here right now because God wants us here. I was just praying for something to do because I was bored out of my skull, and then you stumble down that hill like a drunk and land almost in my lap. Like destiny, you know?”
Bobby knew and it scared the hell out of him.
He figured he should try and run, but then Pine was on his four-wheeler and there wasn’t outrunning that thing even if it’d been the middle of summer and he had all the energy of youth behind him.
He swallowed hard and said, “I’m not out to cause you any problems.”
“I want to hurt someone real bad,” Pine said.
“Hurt someone else.”
“I’d like to do that, but she’s not around and you are.”
“You do that, and then you should go into the school first thing in the morning and tell everybody there about it. They love hearing your stories.”
“Do they?”
“Sure.”
“That’s funny. I don’t ever tell anybody what I do
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