Jessica Channing. She came to the empty desk and said, “I’m substituting for Vera. What can I do to help you?”
Paul smiled, but Zach didn’t even see Jessica. He was going into something similar to shock. His heart pumped and his breathing picked up. It was a form of delayed panic.
Jessica said to Paul, “Is this Zachary Thomas?”
“Yeah, he’s had it.”
“I understand. He needs to walk for a while. We’ll get him a glass of milk.”
Paul asked, “Could you walk with him? He needs somebody along. I’ve got to check in at home.”
“Rick said you found them. I called Sue. The kids are wild, and you need to go home. I’ll go with him.”
Zach understood nothing. He was not only in some panic but in shock. Things had happened that he couldn’t prevent. He couldn’t stop them. He’d flubbed it. They were both…gone! How could they be?
Someone came silently with the glass of tepid milk. Paul took it and handed it to Zach, who didn’t pay any attention because his mind was in a distraction of disorientation.
He drank the milk down and set the glass on the reception counter, and Jessica said, “Let’s walk.”
They went out of the hotel and across the entrance road to the sand. They turned north along the wet, solid beach just above the receding waves. They didn’t speak at all. They walked.
The surging waves were soothing. There weren’t too many people around. The breeze was fresh. It played in their hair and ruffled their clothing. The sun was low in the western sky. Around Zach the air was silent of voices and no decisions pushed at him. He was free.
Helping people in shock was one of the things the town of Sea View had learned. Of course, there were a few people who didn’t volunteer at the hospital. To the rest, it was interesting and they helped. They were that kind of people.
The shocked man with the woman stranger at his side didn’t walk far. Jessica knew better than to exhaust a person in his position. But he was then outside and free. It gave the feeling of control to the man. Lured into walking, in his shock, he now felt walking on the beach had been his idea. He was in control.
By then, they were back at the hotel. He was given a sedative to take if he chose. Paul’s note said the doctor recommended it. Zach needed to rest. Tomorrow would be a tough day.
Zach read Paul’s note and looked at Jessica. “Paul has been a rock for me this afternoon.” His own voice sounded apart from him. “I don’t know how to thank him for all that time. For that support.”
“You can tell him tomorrow.” Jessica told Zach that so easily. She knew what a hell of a day the next day would be. The boy had no chance at all. The harvesters would gather from the airport with their little ice buckets. They would be sober-faced, earnest and grateful.
They would harvest bone, heart, kidneys, eye lenses and skin. The harvesting was generally within the state. Michael’s gifts would help people all over TEXAS.
Jessica told Zach, “Do take the pill. It will help your body relax. You need the rest.”
And Zach said, “Take me to my room. I’m not sure I can make it on my own.”
Jessica looked at that man. How many times had she heard something similar?
He was serious. He was wrung out.
Even later, she considered that she could have easily gotten someone else to take him to his room. He wouldn’t turn a hair because his request had been so vulnerable. He was not a lecher.
She looked at the clock on the wall. Vera would be back in about ten minutes. Jessica told Don, “Watch the desk?”
Don eyed the man beside Jessica with gradually diminishing suspicion. “Sure. I’ll call Vernon to take up his luggage.” Don looked around but there was none.
Zach replied, “It’s in the car and the car’s probably been hauled to someplace else. I was in a wreck.”
Only he. Only he was wrecked. The others had survived in a different way. They’d escaped from life. He was alone.
Or—had he died, too, and was he just around as a haunt? He hadn’t wanted to die, and his mind had prevented it? He would come to his ghost’s limit in time, and he’d just…leave? Why hadn’t he gone with them? Why was only he there? Was he alive?
He looked at Jessica. She was probably his imagination. She was unreal, she was so beautiful. He’d drawn her from adolescent dreamings. Hannah had been the real woman, a good friend; this one was a dream.
Jessica collected a shaving kit and a shirt from the gift shop. She found socks and underwear. She brought them back to Zach. He heard himself say, “Put it on my bill.”
And she replied, “We’ll see.”
His eyes slitted as he studied her in the half light of the fading day. Yeah. She was a dream. He was probably at the side of the road… in the wrecked car…still.
He asked the iridescent woman, “Are you real?”
And she realized he was in shock. He was working on only half a brain. She said soothingly, “We all are.”
Not all.
She said, “Come.” And she led the way to the elevator. She had the key and carried the other things she’d gathered for him.
He followed, observing her walk. She had a good walk. She barely moved but her skirts did. They swayed. He blinked and looked away from her. The evening lights were dimmed by the setting sun. The hazed atmosphere was ethereal…It was weird.
They were the only ones in the elevator. As in a dream, they were alone. Such isolation was a part of a dream. The redhead would disappear… when they got to his bed.
People weren’t going to their rooms, they were going down the elevators to the dining rooms, but it seemed a dream to Zach.
The pair reached his floor. Jessica located his room on the discreet gold rectangle with black lettering and numbers. She compared the key and told him, “From the elevator, you turn left.”
He replied, “Yeah.” And he looked at her face. He was taller than she. He was a dominant male. How strange to feel that. He’d always thought of women as equals. The wreck had thrown him back into his basic male thinking. He was dominant.
At his room, it was Jessica who unlocked his door. She opened it inward, effortlessly, and he seemed to drift beside her into the room.
She looked around. It was very neat and orderly. She checked the bath and it, too, was pristine.
The accommodations were always that way.
Jess went to the bureau and opened the drawer to put in his newly purchased underwear. She removed myriad straight pins from the new shirt. She got them all. She would. Then she hung the shirt in the closet.
She put his shaving kit in the bathroom.
Then she came back into the bedroom with a glass of water, which she handed to him. She watched as he put the pill into his mouth and drank the water down.
With care, he put the glass on the table by his bed, as she pulled the coverlet back and turned down the sheeted blanket. He was watching her as if in a trance.
She hesitated and her lips parted. He took her hand into his. They were facing each other. She almost smiled and she watched mesmerized as he took a step nearer.
He regarded her very seriously. His breathing was harsh. He carefully, gently took her into his arms and…he really kissed her!
She was thrillingly shocked and her nose drew in air as her mouth opened to his tongue. Her eyes widened in surprise as her body curled against his rigid one.
What on EARTH!
And