Read Online The Dead Run by Adam Mansbach - Free Book Online Page B

lap. She stared down at it, awed, feeling its warmth.
    Feeling alive.
    Wanting, suddenly and desperately, to stay that way.
    â€œSherry!”
    A rough, throaty whisper.
    She looked up, into the beam, and saw a body dive through it, legs first, arms over head, the shower of sunlight a cushioning waterfall.
    It was the most beautiful thing Sherry had ever seen.
    An angel, she thought . I’m already dead , and an angel has come to—
    He was up, kneeling in front of her, pulling the gag out of her mouth. The sunbeam brushed his brow.
    â€œEric?”
    â€œShhh.” He worked feverishly at the rope around her hands, a musk of sweat and chlorine and cologne coming off him in hot waves. “They’re right upstairs. We’ve got to hurry.”
    The rope fell from her wrists, and Eric bent to free her ankles.
    â€œHow—”
    â€œI followed you. There. Come on.”
    He hauled her to her feet, and Sherry’s vision went spangly from the sudden change in altitude. The numbness in her limbs loosened, became a plague of pins and needles.
    Eric threw an arm around her waist, grabbed the chair with his other hand, placed it directly below the window.
    Sherry looked up. Remembered to whisper, this time. “It’s too far.”
    Eric climbed onto the chair, measured the distance with his eyes, and jumped.
    The fingertips of his left hand caught hold of the window frame, and for a moment Eric’s legs dangled like a hanged man’s as he struggled to swing his other arm up to the ledge. On the third try, he caught it. Then, slowly, Eric began to vanish. Head, shoulders, waist, legs.
    For a moment, he was gone, and Sherry felt a stab of panic—that was it, he’d changed his mind, abandoned her. Then Eric’s head reappeared, and he thrust an arm toward her. Beckoned.
    â€œLet’s go.”
    Sherry climbed the chair, grabbed on to him with both hands. Eric lifted, biceps bulging beneath her weight. A moment later, she was up and out, pressed against him, the two of them curled panting in the dirt.
    He stood, pulled Sherry to her feet again. She palm-shaded herself from the sun and tried to get her bearings, but there was nothing here. Just the building they’d escaped from, cavernous and looming. The distant rush of traffic. Low, flat land littered with browning scrub and tumbleweed.
    Eric took her hand, and they crept cautiously along the barn wall. He paused at the corner, peered around, then flattened himself and motioned for Sherry to lean across him and take a look.
    Four or five buildings, clustered together, a quarter mile away.
    Two little girls on a swing set, twice as close.
    Their mothers behind them, doling out pushes.
    Two men with rifles slung across their backs, strolling and chatting, close enough to the women to trade pleasantries.
    Sherry fell back, looked to Eric.
    He bent to whisper in her ear.
    â€œMy car is that way.” The trajectory his finger mapped cut across the compound at a forty-five-degree angle. Skirted the buildings, but took them dangerously close to the swing set.
    â€œThe guards’ backs are turned,” Eric reported. “If we stay low, we’ll make it.” He dropped onto his stomach, edged forward in a military crawl.
    Sherry crept back toward the corner, took another look.
    â€œQuick, Sherry! Before they figure out you’re gone and lock everything down.”
    â€œI know this place,” she said slowly. “I’ve been here before.”
    S ETH SLID THE key into the lock inch by inch, listening as each ridge found its slot. Savoring the satisfaction of purpose fulfilled, bodies moving in harmony. A smile played on his thin lips at the thought of the girl on the other side of the door, ears perked to these same tiny sounds. The world housed such a remarkable multitude of realities, simultaneous and unknowable.
    The final click. He turned the key and let the door swing open, closed his eyes to grant