Free Dead Water by Tim O'Rourke

or rat to feed on. It wasn’t ideal, but it was better than
feeding on a human. I would never do that.
    “ Are you looking for some of this?” I heard a voice
say.
    I turned
around to find Potter standing amongst the trees. He was holding up
a bottle of Lot-13. I could see that it was a third
full.
    “ It’s all we have left, but I saved the last for you,” he
said.
    Although
I felt the sudden urge to run to him, snatch it from his hands, and
swallow down the last of the thick, sticky liquid, I stopped myself
and said, “It’s okay, I can find some of the red stuff for myself.
You have it – you need it as much as I do.”
    “ Suit yourself,” Potter said, unscrewing the cap.
    I
watched him lift the bottle to his mouth and drink the last of it.
He tossed the empty bottle into the undergrowth as he stood in a
shaft of white sunlight which cut through the branches high above.
The tails of his long black coat flapped about his legs. The coat
was open down the front, revealing his naked upper body. I looked
away.
    There
must be some kind of woodland animal nearby. I tried to focus, set
my senses straight, but with Potter standing only feet away, I just
couldn’t concentrate.
    “ Did you listen to the song?” he asked, taking a step closer to
me.
    “ Yes,” I whispered, continuing with the pretence that I was
looking for food. “It was nice.”
    “ Just nice?” he asked, edging his way closer, the sound of his
feet crunching over broken twigs seemed almost
deafening.
    “ It was nice ,”
I said again. What did he want me to say? Did he want me to tell
him I’d spent the night crying my eyes out at the thought of him
being in the arms of Sophie? Is that what he wanted to hear? Did he
want me to tell him how the words of that song had broken my heart?
I couldn’t tell him that.
    “ So is it over between us?” Potter asked, his voice suddenly so
close I could feel his warm breath against my cheek.
    I
shuddered. “It has to be,” I whispered.
    “ It can’t be over,” he said, so close now that I could feel him
brushing against my back.
    “ Why not?” I breathed, scared of turning to face
him.
    “ We never had that date we always dreamt about,” he whispered
into my ear.
    “ It’s too late for that now,” I said softly.
    “ Come with me,” he said, taking my hand gently in his and
guiding me deeper into the woods.
    “ Where are you taking me?” I asked, letting him lead me
away.
    Without
saying a word, Potter led me into a small, open area surrounded by
tall pine trees. I couldn’t help but gasp with delight. In the
middle was a tree stump. On this, there was a glass, which had been
filled with a fistful of wild woodland flowers. I could see
beautiful white snowdrops, star-shaped flowers coloured blue and
mauve, and bunches of sweet violet. There was one more glass and
this was filled with a deep red liquid which looked like wine. A
blanket had been laid over the snow before the tree
stump.
    “ It’s not much, I know,” Potter said, leading me into the
secluded patch. “But it’s the closest I could get to a date in the
middle of nowhere and at such short notice.”
    “ It’s wonderful,” I murmured as he guided me down onto the
blanket. “Where did you get all of this from?”
    “ The glasses I took from the kitchen in the caravan, the
flowers I found nearby.”
    “ And the red stuff?” I asked, looking at the glass of
blood.
    “ That came from me,” he said, covering a small open wound on
his wrist with the sleeve of his coat.
    My
stomach summersaulted at seeing the glass of blood within my reach.
My throat burnt and went dry.
    “ A date isn’t a proper date without some music,” he said,
holding out his hand.”
    I took the iPod from my pocket and handed it to him. He
pressed the screen with his thumb as he downloaded tracks. I looked
at the glass of his blood again, my stomach cramping. Potter placed
the iPod on the tree stump next to the glass of flowers. The
song When I Was