Book of Days: A Novel Read Online Free PDF Page A

can't—"
"Please put her on the phone. Please."
Cameron heard muted voices and then rustling.
"Hey." Her voice sounded soft and muffled, as if she were speaking through a thick blanket.
"Jessie!"
"Hi, Sweet-dream." A labored breath. "I love you." Silence. Then barely a whisper. "Hurry, baby, please?"
He hung up and tossed his cell phone onto the passenger seat.
Sweat dripped off his forehead into his eyes as he alternated between crushing the accelerator and mashing the brakes. Swerving around and through light traffic on I-5, he felt like he was in a movie chase scene on double speed. Rain hammered against the windshield and "Don't Fear the Reaper" played on the radio, the perfect soundtrack to the nightmare he was living.
Breathe, Cameron.
This couldn't be happening.
But it was.
He wanted to call her back, tell her something, anything, to keep her alive.
Jessie was dying.
No. Impossible. They were meant to be together always—till they were old and gray and it was time to lose their minds.
This wasn't the end. It couldn't be. There was so much life left to live.
By the time he reached the off-ramp that would take him to Paine Field, the rain had shifted from a downpour to a fine mist, as if a giant spray bottle pumped out little bursts overhead.
As he skidded around the final corner leading to the air strip and straightened his MINI Cooper, the lights of the police cars and ambulance lit up the horizon like the Las Vegas strip. But the lights pulsed with death.
He rolled down his window as he approached the scene, and the silence struck him like a wall. No sirens sliced into the night. No one spoke, no one shouted, no one ran back and forth between the ambulance and the mutilated metal that had been Jessie's midnight blue and white Cessna Skylane.
As Cameron got out of his car, he tried to take slow breaths. He'd imagined running for Jessie the moment he arrived, but his feet felt bolted to the asphalt.
A medic squatting next to the wreck glanced at him, then nodded toward the inside of the ambulance and spoke to someone inside.
A medic appeared from the ambulance, jogged up to Cameron, and stuck out his hand. Cameron didn't take it.
"Mr. Vaux?"
"Yes."
"She only has minutes left. You need to come."
"Now?" As Cameron uttered the word he realized how stupid it must sound. But everything was out of rhythm, out of body, far past surreal.
"Yes, you need to come now. Right this way." The paramedic took his arm and guided him toward the mangled Cessna.
Part of him wondered why he didn't sprint to the plane, cradle Jessie in his arms, and somehow pull her back into this life.
"How did it happen?" Cameron mumbled as the medic guided him toward Jessie, his hand still on Cameron's arm.
"You need to talk to her now."
Cameron scuffed up to the plane and stopped just before reaching it.
"Is she . . . ?"
"Her body has been . . . her upper body is okay. She can talk to you."
Jessie lay inside the plane, her head resting on the passenger's seat, eyes closed. No cuts, no bruises, dark hair framing her face like a work of art. A tiny speck of blood on her chin was the only imperfection.
But what must have been the cockpit lay buried in her torso, her blouse dark red from blood already starting to dry.
As Cameron reached out with his pinky finger and stroked her chin, Jessie's eyes opened.
"Hey, baby. You're here." She coughed lightly.
"I'm here, you're going to be—"
"Shh, only moments now." She coughed. "I was never completely sure it was real, but it was. What I saw. Death brings clarity. It sweeps away all the doubts, you know?"
"What—?"
She laughed but the blood mixing in her lungs made it sound like she was gargling. "Mortality makes many things clear, my love." She swallowed. "One is I love you more than life. The other is, the book is real. I know it is. I saw it."
Cameron braced himself against the plane's frame. The book? Too weird. The memory of his last conversation with his dad flashed into his mind. Dad had talked about