Rock Star Read Online Free PDF Page B

another cup of coffee. Maybe if she drank enough, she would feel marginally human.
    Now they sat side by side on the grass, the antique cannons an ominous foreshadowing of the conversation to come. They rested their elbows on their knees as they looked out over a beautiful view that had been the scene of bloodshed and horror. The mist that enshrouded the mountain gave it an air of gloom, but also one of transcendent beauty. It was that fog that had earned the famous Civil War battle the nickname, “The Battle Above the Clouds.” Lookout Mountain was almost always foggy, the haze lifting only during the hottest days of summer.
    “You know, I always get a funny feeling when I visit battlefields,” Bryan said. “Like when I went to Gettysburg. It was really weird. The gooseflesh stood up on my arms and we whispered the whole time without even realizing it. The whole situation was eerie, and dare I say it, spooky.”
    Callie nodded. She had never met anyone else who had experienced the same sensation she’d felt. “It’s almost like you can feel those long-dead soldiers. It’s one of the reasons I’ve never liked to come here.”
    “Do you believe in spirits? I mean, like ghosts and stuff?” Bryan didn’t really know where he stood on the issue, but Callie’s comments piqued his curiosity. He’d come to expect the unexpected from her, and her response didn’t disappoint him.
    “No, not really, but I believe that maybe when there’s so much violence in a place that energy could be deposited there. I don’t know, I can’t really say if it’s their ghosts or spirits, or what, but there’s definitely something. I’m always sad and depressed when I come here. And no matter how hard I try, I can never get warm.”
    Bryan was really surprised that Callie, who had always seemed so pragmatic and businesslike, would actually entertain so fanciful a notion.
    “I definitely believe that the spirits, or ‘energy’ or whatever you want to call it, have remained. Sort of like a reminder of the horror of battle or something. I think about how those guys must have felt, how scared they must have been, the courage it must have taken to go forward despite their terror.” Bryan shrugged and leaned forward. “Well, courage or fear of being shot by their own officers.” He gave a low chuckle. “I guess under those circumstances, it would be better to face the enemy. The ultimate damned if you do, damned if you don’t situation.” He paused again. “After we went to Gettysburg, Brodie and I wrote a song about it. It was on our third album.”
    As usual, thinking about Brodie evoked painful memories and emotions he still didn’t want to confront. He had borne the guilt and self-loathing about his role in Brodie’s death for months. Refusing to share or even acknowledge his grief, he had tamped it down into the dark recesses of his soul until it had manifested itself in his behavior and feelings of despair. It was as if simple acknowledgment would make the facts concrete, a reality that was more than he could bear. But somehow, perhaps it was the atmosphere of this place sanctified by the blood of long-dead soldiers, he really wanted Callie to understand the pain and abhorrence he still felt. “I gave him his first joint, you know.”
    Callie kept up with the topic change and knew to whom he referred. She had suspected all along that Bryan blamed himself for his friend’s sad end, and now this comment confirmed it. Bryan had told her that he didn’t use drugs, and she believed him, having seen no evidence of drug use since she’d known him. But he’d also told her that he’d been pretty wild in the past, and that he’d gotten drunk and crashed cars since Brodie’s death. The degree of guilt and disgust had made her wonder whether Bryan had somehow played a part in the death of his friend.
    She leaned back on her elbows and looked up at him inquiringly. “Bryan, did you shoot up with Brodie?”
    Bryan gave her a