Read Online The Breach - Ghost Country - Deep Sky by Patrick Lee - Free Book Online
Authors: Patrick Lee
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the Whisper do, when its key was applied? Paige’s words came back to him:
We didn’t build this thing.
We as in people.
The implications were hard to get his mind around, and not because he didn’t believe her. Just the opposite.
Paige interrupted his thoughts, murmuring something in her sleep. No words—just a scared sound, miserable and pleading. It lasted only a few seconds, and then she was quiet again, though Travis felt the tension in her muscles linger, and saw her eyes flitting back and forth behind their closed lids. He wondered how long it would be before she could dream anything other than nightmares.
“You’re safe,” he said quietly. “They’re gone.”
He didn’t expect it to work, but it did. She relaxed almost at once, into what passed for dreamless sleep.
Mostly, he tried not to look at her.
Tried not to notice her eyelashes, or the way her bangs fell on her forehead, or the nearly invisible traces of long-lost freckles across the bridge of her nose. Tried not to think of how, in spite of his muscles burning as if battery acid were flowing through them instead of blood, this was the best he’d felt in a decade and a half.
She was something. No escaping it.
In a way, she was everything. Everything that his future would never contain. A year out of prison, he hadn’t even humored the idea of dating again. He’d spent fifteen years learning not to think about what he was missing. He’d gotten pretty good at it, too, and his freedom had brought little reason to change that perspective. His body might not be constrained behind razorwire borders any longer, but his chances with a woman like Paige sure as hell were.
It wasn’t that he’d be alone forever. There were ways to take the edge off his past, and he was working on them. He’d been doing construction in Fairbanks for most of the year he’d been there, on a contractor’s crew. Working hard at it, and working smart, paying attention to the business side of the job. And saving his money. He’d be in a position to head up his own crew before too long, starting with medium-sized projects, mostly additions. If he played it right, he’d be putting up new homes on spec within five years, and eventually—maybe another five years after that—the homes would be high-end. Somewhere along that arc, with a solid career to speak for him and with prison far enough behind, he’d find someone who’d give him a chance.
But not someone like Paige. Not even close. And that was fine, as long as he didn’t think about it.
So he tried not to look at her.
But mostly he failed.
The open span, which turned out to be over three miles long, terminated at a grove of alders where three smaller valleys converged from high above. He’d gone a quarter mile beyond the grove, into more open space, when he heard the chopper again. No chance of getting back to the alders in time. He tried for them anyway.
He was a hundred yards shy, moving faster than good judgment counseled on the rough ground, with the rotors like drumsticks on sheet metal and the chopper seconds from breaking into view, when he took the misstep he’d been dreading.
He saw it a tenth of a second before his foot touched down, time enough to recognize the mistake but not redeem it. The bare patch of dirt, no larger than a dinner plate, was dark and moistened, either by snow runoff or a spring somewhere beneath it. All the dirt on this slope was moist, but grass roots held it firm—where there was grass. Travis had simply taken his eyes from the ground a half second too long, watching the ridgeline for the chopper.
His foot hit the soft earth and slid sideways as if on ice.
For a second—his balance gone, his body pivoting without any pretense of control—he simply knew it was over. They would sprawl. The chopper would be on them before he could even pick himself up, much less Paige. And just for a challenge, here was a jagged boulder in his path, perfectly placed for him to crack
We didn’t build this thing.
We as in people.
The implications were hard to get his mind around, and not because he didn’t believe her. Just the opposite.
Paige interrupted his thoughts, murmuring something in her sleep. No words—just a scared sound, miserable and pleading. It lasted only a few seconds, and then she was quiet again, though Travis felt the tension in her muscles linger, and saw her eyes flitting back and forth behind their closed lids. He wondered how long it would be before she could dream anything other than nightmares.
“You’re safe,” he said quietly. “They’re gone.”
He didn’t expect it to work, but it did. She relaxed almost at once, into what passed for dreamless sleep.
Mostly, he tried not to look at her.
Tried not to notice her eyelashes, or the way her bangs fell on her forehead, or the nearly invisible traces of long-lost freckles across the bridge of her nose. Tried not to think of how, in spite of his muscles burning as if battery acid were flowing through them instead of blood, this was the best he’d felt in a decade and a half.
She was something. No escaping it.
In a way, she was everything. Everything that his future would never contain. A year out of prison, he hadn’t even humored the idea of dating again. He’d spent fifteen years learning not to think about what he was missing. He’d gotten pretty good at it, too, and his freedom had brought little reason to change that perspective. His body might not be constrained behind razorwire borders any longer, but his chances with a woman like Paige sure as hell were.
It wasn’t that he’d be alone forever. There were ways to take the edge off his past, and he was working on them. He’d been doing construction in Fairbanks for most of the year he’d been there, on a contractor’s crew. Working hard at it, and working smart, paying attention to the business side of the job. And saving his money. He’d be in a position to head up his own crew before too long, starting with medium-sized projects, mostly additions. If he played it right, he’d be putting up new homes on spec within five years, and eventually—maybe another five years after that—the homes would be high-end. Somewhere along that arc, with a solid career to speak for him and with prison far enough behind, he’d find someone who’d give him a chance.
But not someone like Paige. Not even close. And that was fine, as long as he didn’t think about it.
So he tried not to look at her.
But mostly he failed.
The open span, which turned out to be over three miles long, terminated at a grove of alders where three smaller valleys converged from high above. He’d gone a quarter mile beyond the grove, into more open space, when he heard the chopper again. No chance of getting back to the alders in time. He tried for them anyway.
He was a hundred yards shy, moving faster than good judgment counseled on the rough ground, with the rotors like drumsticks on sheet metal and the chopper seconds from breaking into view, when he took the misstep he’d been dreading.
He saw it a tenth of a second before his foot touched down, time enough to recognize the mistake but not redeem it. The bare patch of dirt, no larger than a dinner plate, was dark and moistened, either by snow runoff or a spring somewhere beneath it. All the dirt on this slope was moist, but grass roots held it firm—where there was grass. Travis had simply taken his eyes from the ground a half second too long, watching the ridgeline for the chopper.
His foot hit the soft earth and slid sideways as if on ice.
For a second—his balance gone, his body pivoting without any pretense of control—he simply knew it was over. They would sprawl. The chopper would be on them before he could even pick himself up, much less Paige. And just for a challenge, here was a jagged boulder in his path, perfectly placed for him to crack
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