Run Read Online Free PDF Page B

what?
    Eggs? Yes. And Ham. Green Eggs and Ham. Yes! And Sam I am.
    I said.
    Sam
I
am and we laughed and laughed and laughed.
    God I want to laugh again. Now. Right now.
    Wrrrzzzzzzzz clank wrrrzzzzzzzz.
Laugh!
    Do I remember how? Try. You can't laugh if you're dead. Be alive. Laugh.
    Try. I must be laughing, because look how they're looking at me.
    Uhhg. Something burns my throat then my tongue then my lips. Laughing hurts.
    And I'm vomiting. I'm puking.
    That happens. Diabetic. Me.
    It's warm on my chin slick smearing down onto my shirt. It reeks. Bad.
    Someone comes, cleans me up. Not gentle. Not like Mom did.
    Mom?
    Wrrrzzzzzzzzclankwrrrzzzzzzzz.
    The noise, damn it! It's messing up the story. Inahousewitha mouseinaboxwithafox.
    Wrrrzzzzzzzz. Clank. Wrrzz.
    Focus. Remember . . . how did it start? Where was I before I was here? What was I thinking before I couldn't think? Focus . . .
    Heat. And shoulders. And a silky throat.
    Heather. Me. Together. So together. Mmmmmm . . . almost good. But I'm wishing beyond it. I'm wishing for Gaia.
    Wrrrzzzzzzzz clank wrrzz.
    And then . . . Gaia.
    Gaia. Jesus. Gaia. No, don't go . . . I'm sorry. And then . . . running. Darkness and street-lights and . . . where? Where did she go? And then the arm across my chest, the hands around my throat.
    And
wrrrzzzzzzzz
I'm here again, over the noise again. Still.
    Oh, God. What the hell is happening? I don'tknow. I can't know. Knowing is somewhere else. And it all fades into the noise.
    Wrrrzzzzzzzz clank.
    Gaia?
    Wrrrzzzzzzzz
. . .
    . . .
zzzzzzzz
. . .

daddy s home
His weird talent had been the cause of his wife's death. Would it now take his daughter's life as well?

Father Knows Best
    TOM MOORE STARED AT HIS DESK, which was piled high with top secret government files, profiles of the world's most threatening terrorist groups, and all other manner of classified information. At this moment, though, the most important document on it was the unfinished letter to his daughter.
Dearest Gaia,
    I was closer to you Saturday night than I've been in years. Close enough to be reminded that you have my eyes, your mother's nose, and our combined determination.
    Close enough to see you nearly shot.
    Close enough to save your life.
    The pen trembled in his hand. Thank God he'd been there. His bullet had only hit the punk's shoulder, but it had been enough. For the moment, at least. Gaia had gotten away. Maybe the bullet had sent a message: Back off. Stand down. Give up. Tom could only hope. And anyway, there were other dangers stalking Gaia -- ones far more grave, far less predictable.
    One, he knew, was a sick son of a bitch with whom, forty-some-odd years ago, Tom had shared a womb.
    The thought made him physically ill. His brother. His twin brother. A deadly psychopath with a vendetta against Tom. Loki. Tom knew the name from the re-search his outfit provided. But he would have known it, anyway.
    When they were children, his brother had fixated on the idea of Loki, the Norse god. A Satan-like hero, consumed by darkness and evil. It was no wonder that as an adult, he would adopt this moniker, under which to pursue his hateful purpose.
    Tom said the word out loud. "Loki." It literally stung his vocal cords.
    But what about his own name, his undercover name? Enigma, they called him. Definition: anything that arouses curiosity or perplexes because it is unexplained, inexplicable, or secret.
    He gave a humorless laugh. Yes. That I am, he thought. I am a secret to my own child.
    The name was dead-on. Tom Moore was an enigma, even to himself. He had been from childhood, when his remarkable talent had begun to make itself known. Why was he able to think the way he did? Why was he capable of solving the unsolvable? Why could his brain take in seemingly random patterns of words and numbers and make sense of them? He could decode, decipher, predict, and presume with terrifying accuracy.
    In high school he'd discovered, much to his amusement, that he could open any