The Haunted Mine: A Lorimer Graveskeeper Choose Your Own Adventure Story

Chapter 5: A New Beginning

"You closing up soon?" Lorimer asked.

"Yeah, it's almost 2, no one else is coming in I think."

"You want to come to my apartment, have a drink there?"

Cecile leaned over the counter and put her mouth on Lorimer's. She kissed him slowly, her breasts pressing against his chest. Lorimer put his cigarette out in the ash tray and put a hand on the small of her back. She leaned forward into him. Her breathing heavy, loud in the quiet, empty bar. She pulled away.

"Yeah, let me grab my stuff."

They stepped out into the warm night. Arizona had the most incredible smell at night, like dry earth scented with Jade. It was the smell of a thousand years of folliage burned to dust under the unforgiving sun. Cecile locked the front door. Lorimer grabbed her hand. They walked quietly over to his apartment, feeling the warmth of the night on their skin, feeling the cool breeze rustle their clothes. Their awareness of each other's bodies almost painful, growing with each step towards Lorimer's bed.

They walked up the stairs to his loft and Lorimer opened. He clicked on the light, and there she was, the blood stained, ragged girl, staring straight at him from the middle of the room. He stopped in the doorway, looking straight into her deep black eyes.

"What's wrong?" Cecile asked, pushing him aside.

The girl snarled. She bared her teeth. Her black eyes turned red. Saliva started dribbling down her chin. 

Lorimer pushed Cecile back to the stairs, ready to run out, when the girl suddenly disappeared.

"Baby? What's going on?" Cecile asked, clutching his arm.

Lorimer looked around the room. She was gone.

"Nothing," he said, running his hands through his hair.

"Was it one of them?" Cecile asked, her voice hushed.

"No, Cici. It was nothing. I just, don't like the dark," he said, settling into the couch.

"You look all pale, let me grab you something to drink."

"Whiskey is in the cabinet on the left, glasses are by the bottle," he said, throwing off his jacket.

Cecile grabbed the drinks and sat down next to him, her knee gently touching his knee. He could see the top of her thigh high stockings just under the hem of her short skirt. He ran his fingers along the top of the stocking, watching her carefully as she sipped her drink.

"What did you mean earlier, when you said I was courageous for being nobody?" Cecile asked.

"That's a weird thing to hang on to."

"It was a weird thing to say."

"I just meant, I guess I've always been tortured by this idea of being great. Like being the best at something. Being remembered. I've always been so afraid of dying and it meaning nothing, so I spent every waking second looking for my life's work, looking for that thing that made me special. Then I got to a point in my life, standing in the trauma bay, looking at some kid my age who died suddenly without it ever meaning anything and I realized that maybe I should have spent less time being afraid of being forgotten and more time just, living my life. So it's brave I think, not to give a shit. To just live every day like it matters already."

"That's pretty deep for a pickup line," Cecile said, pushing her thigh up against Lorimer's hand. His fingers trailed under her skirt.

He leaned forward and started lightly kissing her neck. The wind blew his white curtains, she shivered while he undressed her.

They laid next to each other, afterwards, in his bed, looking out that window. Lorimer gently stroked her hair and the back of her shoulder. Her body had such simple lines and sloping movements. Her lovemaking was steady and graceful, like her life. He buried himself in her trying to borrow the goodness, but his body was like poisoned seed, making a home in barren soil. It's like everything he touched turned into the same graying dust he saw over that tortured ruin. He was suddenly afraid for her. She didn't know what she'd done, getting mixed up with him.

PROCEED TO CHAPTER 8