Free Zack and the Dark Shaft by Gracie C. Mckeever

remember perfectly well what happened.”

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    “Besides, I truly believe she is like a new bird and is just trying her wings.”
    “Her wings end where Zack’s nose begins.”
    “Unfortunately, our Father is not into civil liberties like He is into divine rights.”
    “She has discovered His loophole and is drunk on the power now. There is no telling what the girl will do before this is all over. And I, for one, do not want another dead innocent bystander on my hands.”
    “She is not Jack, Micah. She is much smarter, and more sensitive than that, and I believe she can be redeemed.”
    “Then we all are gambling with Zack’s life.”
    “I know.”

    * * * *

    They paused at the elevator. Zara with her back, stiff and straight to Quincy, and her arms folded across her breasts.
    Quincy wanted to reach out and touch her, but her haughty, peeved stance warned him to stay away, at least until she was ready to forgive him for not granting the princess her wish.
    He smiled, ready to give in, at least a little, right before the doors to the elevator opened and he noticed too late that there was no car.
    Zara took a step.
    It seemed she moved in slow motion, still disappearing so fast into the dark void that when Quincy shouted and reached for her, only his fingertips brushed a sleeve of her dress.
    The echo of Zara’s scream followed him when he dragged himself from the depths of his dream and woke up reaching and grabbing for someone who was no longer there.
    “Quincy, wake up! You’re having a nightmare.”

    60
    Gracie C. McKeever
    Lean, strong arms wrapped around him and held tight. A soft voice whispered soothing words in his ear. “You’re all right, baby. It’s just a dream.
    You’re okay…”
    He couldn’t decide if his psyche would be safer asleep or awake.
    In the dream world he had to face the death of his friend again and again.
    Awake he’d have to look into the familiar eyes of Zara’s twin knowing he had let her die.
    Quincy opened his eyes, immediately met with the penetrating, indigo gaze of his lover and slid his arms around Zack to return the other man’s hug.
    “Were you dreaming about the accident?”
    “All the time.”
    “Me too.”
    Quincy arched a brow and released Zack to lean up on an elbow. “Why?”
    Zack shrugged. “Not exactly sure. Probably for the same reasons you do.”
    They never really discussed Zara’s death at length before, probably because they were both there—one in body and one in spirit—and didn’t need to dissect what each had experienced. But maybe it was time that they got it out in the open.
    “Want to talk about it?”
    Zack sat up and silently faced him, blue eyes so dark they looked black.
    “It might help us both to get it out.”
    “You really think so?”
    “Couldn’t hurt.”
    “Speak for yourself.”
    Quincy chuckled and put an arm around Zack, pulling him close to his side and holding him. “We’ll be each other’s therapy.”
    “That was Zara’s gig you know, therapy and self-improvement. That girl never met a self-help book she didn’t like.”
    Quincy laughed. “I know what you mean. But she tried.”
    “She did that.” Zack cuddled closer. “I miss her.”

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    “I do too.” Quincy cupped Zack’s chin and tipped up his head. “Do you blame me?”
    “Of course not!” Zack sprang up to sit against the mahogany headboard and gaped at Quincy. “Why would you ask that?”
    Quincy wasn’t sure himself until the next words left his mouth:
    “Sometimes I blame myself.” Who was he kidding, sometimes? Not a minute went by that he didn’t feel responsible for what happened to Zara.
    “Why? There was nothing you could have done.”
    “That’s the party line I recite to keep the guilt at bay. But it doesn’t work very well.”
    “It was an accident.”
    “If she hadn’t been so angry with me she might have been looking where she was going, not so eager to flounce away.