Ashes and Bones: An Emma Fielding Mystery - By Dana Cameron Page 0,4

were left there; yes, they’d come from a local vendor, very reputable, with the usual delivery guy. I thanked them, called the florist. They were glad that I liked the flowers, a special order; no, they couldn’t legally tell me who sent them. I pressed; they demurred again, politely, firmly.

After I took a picture of the flowers, I threw them out. Then I showered and we went down to drinks. Brian very carefully didn’t ask anything more about the flowers.

Late that night, I left Brian snoring gently in bed, got dressed, and quietly shut the door behind me, making my way to the beach through the abandoned paths of the silent hotel.

I’d just made it down to the sand when I saw a flash of brilliant light, then heard a huge bang. I felt a brutal punch to my stomach. I was immediately ashamed; I should have been able to block it. But I hadn’t seen it coming, there was no one there, I thought in a panic, so I couldn’t really be blamed for that…

And then I knew the truth. I’d been shot in the belly.

The pain that followed after the impact was unlike anything I’d ever experienced, as though the first blow was just the warm-up. It lasted nearly five seconds, an exquisite eternity of unbearable agony, before I felt myself distanced from it all. Then I was finally able to look down, see what the actual damage was.

It wasn’t bad, not as bad as I thought; maybe I’d be all right. The thing that impressed me most was the quantity and warmth of the blood; it seemed endless. As for seeing things that I was generally happier not seeing, there was no revulsion, just curiosity. It was fascinating, really, actually being able to recognize…me. Kind of strange, knowing there was all this going on inside of me, like imagining another person on the inside of me. Kind of neat. I put my hands up to the ragged hole, tried to stop the flow of blood, but it was no good; the flood I could feel running down my back was even worse.

I was dying.

Sitting on the sand, in the moonlight, little birds chasing the surf, I felt okay. I could see black stains on the sand around where I sat, but at this point, the pain was a distant memory and I was vaguely satisfied that the blood was being absorbed by the sand. A convenience, really, for such a messy end. Couldn’t have done that at home, I thought. Brian was right to get us to take a vacation. If it had to happen anywhere…

Brian! I thought, I had to…no, Brian was back in the room, and I couldn’t get there. Couldn’t even make a noise.

Still, I struggled, tried to get to my feet. But I couldn’t feel them, couldn’t feel my legs under my fingers, and a wave of misery washed over me. I couldn’t get to Brian. Closer to hand, I remembered that I’d seen that flash of light, a long time ago, it seemed, and tried to recall the direction. No luck.

Fighting it seemed silly. Futile. Now I couldn’t even hear the waves on the shore, and I would have liked that. Dying by the ocean—in advanced old age—has always been my plan, but I didn’t realize you didn’t get the whole package in death—sight and sound and smell.

I’d settle for what I had. I relaxed. No sense fighting the inevitable.

Everything felt very distant now, and there was so much going on with me, that there was no room for anything else. Just me and the quiet little patch of beach I was dying on.

I kept fretting that there was something missing, something I didn’t do, but with a minor sort of revelation, I realized that I’d done pretty well for myself in my nearly thirty-five years of life. Even more than I hoped—and then there was Brian. We’d even made love earlier in the evening, so I felt that I’d be leaving things about as well as I could. Not a bad end, not what I’d hoped, of course, but not bad…

There was that one thing. That one last thing that had been eating at me.

And there was a little rush. I felt a lightness overtake me when I realized that it was no longer my responsibility. It was so far out of my hands that I felt, so far away, myself smiling. Relief, the few times I’ve experienced it fully in