Bits & Pieces (Benny Imura 5)

Dan knew that this was a crazy thought. It was nuts.

He was nuts.

Of course he was. How could he not be? The world had ended. Humanity fell, the dead rose. None of that was sane.

Not one bit of it.

Dan kept going, ignoring the pain in his thighs and calves.

Chasing the light.

Chasing hope.

Ready to give in if hope was as false as everything else. Expecting it to be that way. Why should hope be any different?

The road curved around the big stand of trees.

Around.

Around.

And . . .

“God . . . ,” whispered Dan.

He nearly dropped Mason.

The light.

The light.

The light.

Oh God, the light.

6

The door to the house stood open.

Light spilled out onto the snow, into the night.

Yellow.

Golden.

Real.

Dan felt a pain in his heart, and for a moment he thought this was all a cheat, that his heart was going to burst right there, fifty feet from the front door of this house. This cottage in the woods.

This.

Home.

“Please,” he said again, this time not to God but to his own body. To his legs.

Forty feet.

Mason had not moved in a long time.