Free Morning Is Dead by Andersen Prunty Page A

beeping and felt Mirabel’s hand on her leg and she wanted to die. To die or run back out to the night and get lost and never come back.

Eight
     
    Alvin proceeded down the alley, going back toward his house, knowing it was useless. He kept a watch out for the rades. The one rade Archer had killed was no longer in the yard. Now Alvin found it curious, since Archer seemed to have such a vested interest in the rades, why he hadn’t taken this one for himself. Maybe he didn’t want the burden of carrying it. Maybe he was afraid Alvin would think it was strange and refuse to follow him into his Shucking Room.
    He looked up at the sky, trying to find the moon, stars, something, anything to let him know he was still on the same planet. But the only things to remind him of that were the silent houses all around. What was he going to do? He couldn’t just wander around in this perpetual night for the rest of his life. That was ridiculous. He needed answers. He needed to get back to April.
    He reached the end of the alley and to his right, his house. What used to be his house? Now he didn’t really know what to call it. He walked up through the yard. He couldn’t let himself believe things had become as strange as they seemed. Something had to have happened to April. There was no way she could believe this man in their house was him. Maybe at first glance... Or maybe they had just grown that far apart. He didn’t really see how it was possible. They were the happiest couple he knew. They still managed to spend a little time together. Maybe they were just too used to each other. Maybe it was all a joke. Maybe the replacement was some new lover. But that didn’t explain anything else. The weird night police. The endless night. Fucking Archer and the rades. The Acme Demolition crew still on the top of his house.
    They now had nearly the entire thing covered in wires. He wondered how much time he had left. Why would they want to blow up his house? Why had they already blown up so many of the other houses? It just didn’t make any sense.
    He walked up through his backyard and climbed the wooden steps of the porch. These were all things he had done hundreds of times. He reached the porch and turned around, looking out over the yard, trying to put things into perspective. The grass needed mowing again. How much time had passed? It felt like it couldn’t have been much more than a couple of days but the way the grass looked, he would have to guess it had been nearly a week. Other than the grass, everything was the same. The houses on the other side of Thistle. The neighbors’ garage just across the alley.
    He turned back around and crossed the few feet of the porch until he once again stood in front of the door. He touched the knob and turned it, just to make sure. It was locked. Of course it was. The thought of breaking and entering once again crossed his mind but so did the thought of going back to the police station. He had already been processed, he didn’t want to think what would happen to him now.
    Reluctantly, he crossed the yard, going back toward the alley. His mouth felt very dry. He stuck his finger into his mouth and poked his tongue. It was so dry it didn’t even feel like a tongue. His head and cheek throbbed. His left arm hurt from where Archer had stuck him with the arrow. He felt paranoid and on edge. A rade could be lurking anywhere. While they weren’t the quickest things in the world, he didn’t know if he had the energy or the strength to outrun one. His house could potentially blow up at any minute, although he thought the demolition crew would probably have to get off the roof before they did that. But he felt like he was supposed to be doing something. Something to stop his house from being blown up but he couldn’t think what that might be.
    He would continue on to downtown. Maybe he would find other people downtown. Someone more like Ben and less like Archer. Someone who could help him stop the