The Border: The Complete Series Read Online Free PDF Page A

pause.
    After setting the last piece of torn cardboard on the pile, the stranger waited for her to continue.
    “Joe was with Caitlin when she was killed,” Mel said finally. “He barely got away with his life, and... Well, that's that. There's no point over-complicating the story.”
    “Wow,” the stranger muttered, raising both eyebrows at once, “that's gotta get to a guy deep down where it hurts. Nine years ago, so he'd have been, what... I mean, he doesn't look like an old chap.”
    “Fifteen,” she replied, glancing at the bathroom door again. “He was fifteen. She was seventeen.”
    “God, and I guess he saw the whole thing, huh? No wonder the guy wants to drink the memories away.”
    “It's not just tonight with him,” Mel explained. “Tonight's just a different context. He's in here every night, downing pint after pint and -” She stopped suddenly, as if she'd suddenly realized she was saying too much. “At least he's not drinking alone, right?”
    “Drinking alone, thinking alone,” the stranger muttered. “Both can be dangerous.”
    “I should shut up.”
    “It's okay,” the stranger said with a smile, “I have that effect on people.”
    “What effect?”
    “Makin' 'em talk,” he continued, holding his hands up as if to express his innocence, “It's like, when someone gets yammering away to me, they just keep on going like the brakes on their mouth have failed. I must just have that kind of face.”
    “Huh.” She smiled politely, as a bumping sound could be heard from the bathroom. “Just leave Joe be, yeah? He's gonna be okay. Let him sit silently and have his thoughts.”
    As the stranger mimed zipping his lips shut, the bathroom door opened and Joe came stumbling out, holding onto the bar for a moment to steady himself. Clearly unsteady on his feet and barely able to focus, he made his way back to his stool and slumped down, before taking another big swig from his beer. For his part, the stranger glanced over at him but kept his mouth shut, before looking back down at his own drink.
    “Gotta change the barrel,” Mel muttered a few minutes later, wiping her hands on a towel. “You guys behave while I'm gone.”
    “You want a hand with that?” the stranger asked. “I've changed plenty of barrels in my time.”
    “I'll be fine, thanks.”
    “Honest, I -”
    “Really, I'm fine. Thank you for your kind offer.”
    Once Mel was down in the cellar, the stranger took another sip of beer before turning to look over at Joe again, and this time his gaze lingered until the other man became aware and turned to him.
    “I heard it's a tough day for you,” the stranger said. “Nine years since you saw some girl get murdered. What was her name again? Caitlin?”
    Joe opened his mouth to reply, but no words came out. After a moment, he simply looked back down at his glass.
    “Man, that must be tough,” the stranger continued. “Was she your girlfriend, or just a normal friend? Were you getting a little action?”
    Joe muttered something under his breath.
    “What was that?” the stranger asked.
    “Nothing.”
    “The death of a loved one is no easy matter,” the stranger continued, “that's for damn sure. It gets us here, in the chest, and leaves a permanent shadow.” As if to prove his point, he patted himself just below his collarbone. “I know people pile on with their platitudes,” he added, “but let me tell you, friend, it never goes away. The pain, the loss, the grief... It's like anything, you notice it less after it's been around for a while, but every so often you suddenly remember and...” Another pause. “And then it gets you again. Kicks you right in the gut, makes you -”
    Suddenly Joe rose from his stool again, taking one last swig from his glass before turning and stumbling toward the exit.
    “You off somewhere, fella?” the stranger asked. “Got somewhere to be?”
    Without replying, Joe pushed the door open and paused for a moment, before making his way out