to explain it being gone? Or turning up here with some other guy dead in it?”
She held up something small and dark. It took him a few seconds to recognize it as his wallet, which he’d given her to show his license. That seemed like such a long time ago.
“Todd’s wallet is in the car,” she said evenly. “He keeps it in the glove compartment.”
He began to see the shape of what she was saying, and it cast a monstrous shadow in his mind. “You’ve got to be kidding.”
“We throw this in with him, and torch the truck. I can smell the gas. All it would take is a single spark to ignite the fumes, right? The fire will take care of his clothes, singe off his hair, and nobody will be able to tell it wasn’t you.”
Chills marched double-time, no pun intended, up T.J.’s spine. “They’ll think I’m dead. Then what? What do I do? You can’t be suggesting … no. You can’t.”
But she was. He could see it in her steady dark gaze. And he was startled to find that part of him wanted to. Get rid of his old life in the most final way possible. Not have to start from scratch making a new one, but step ready-made into the life of Todd Jeffrey Brigham. A guy who had everything. Money, a fast car, a girlfriend … a family …
A family. Real parents. Todd’s real parents … but what if they were his, too? What if Todd had been his brother, his twin? He’d still never know why they’d given him up, but at least he’d have what should have been his.
The impulse that had led him to turn away from Joshua Flats was back, bigger, clamoring. To hop into the sleek Porsche, find some rock and roll on the radio, and head for Las Vegas to finish the vacation that had been so rudely interrupted. To see the sun rising over a new state. To look over every now and then at Audrey, see her smiling back at him in the shared spirit of their secret and their adventure.
To put all of this behind him and never look back.
Endless miles stretched out ahead of him, all promise and possibility, and as he spied the pinpoints of headlights approaching, T.J. knew he’d better make his choice, and make it quick.
“Let’s go,” he said.
###
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About the Author
Christine Morgan divides her writing time among many genres, from horror to historical, from superheroes to smut, anything in between and combinations thereof. She's a wife, a mom, a future crazy-cat-lady and a longtime gamer, who enjoys British television, cheesy action/disaster movies, cooking and crafts.
Her stories have appeared in several publications, including: The Book of All Flesh, The Book of Final Flesh, The Best of All Flesh, History is Dead, The World is Dead, Strange Stories of Sand and Sea, Fear of the Unknown, Hell Hath No Fury, Dreaded Pall, Path of the Bold, Cthulhu Sex Magazine and its best-of volume Horror Between the Sheets, Closet Desire IV, and Leather, Lace and Lust.
She's also a contributor to The Horror Fiction Review, a former member of the HWA, a regular at local conventions, and an ambitious self-publisher (six fantasy novels, four horror novels, six children's fantasy books, and two roleplaying supplements). Her work has appeared in Pyramid Magazine, GURPS Villains, been nominated for Origins Awards, and given Honorable Mention in two volumes of Year's Best Fantasy and Horror.
Her suspense thriller, The Widows Walk, was recently released from Lachesis Publishing, and her horror novel, The Horned Ones, is due out from Belfire in 2012.She's currently delving into steampunk, making progress on an urban paranormal series, and on a bloodthirsty Viking kick.
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