The Cold Blackness Between
Mary Keller was exhausted but elated when Karl’s eyes finally flickered open. He rose up a little on his one good elbow, the plastic sheet crinkling beneath him.
“Mary?” he rasped. “Where’m I? Throat ... hurts. Feel like ... crap.”
She smiled. His voice was rough, but it worked. His head had been torn off when he lost control of his motorcycle and wrapped it around a tree up in the mountains. She’d not been sure she’d gotten his vocal cords reconstructed properly.
“Rest now. You don’t need to worry about a thing. You just need to get your strength back.”
She leaned down over the antique feather bed and kissed his still-cold forehead. At least the sleet that had slicked the roads that night had also meant he’d been wearing his helmet with the visor down. He h
