Ghost Book Two: The Death Machines

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I woke up to Athalia watching me.

We had taken to sleeping a little apart from the others on our three–day trip to Sleeper One, at first just laying our bedrolls side by side and talking in low voices after dark, then holding hands until we fell asleep, but last night… well, even though we’d found ourselves a little alcove in the cave where we’d all camped, and even though we’d tried to keep it quiet, we’d probably kept the others awake.

Now she was sitting naked, back against the cave wall, her knees tucked up to her chin. In the dim light from the other chamber she looked sad and faraway.

“Shit,” I said. “I wasn’t that bad, was I?”

A smile slowly crinkled the lean lines of her face. “For a ghost? Not bad at all.”

I sat up and looked around for my pants. “So why so glum?”

“Did I look glum?” She started dressing while I stole looks at her hard, tattooed slimness. “Not really awake yet. Guess I was just staring into space.”

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