Free The Brink by Austin Bunn

asked, trying to make her authoritative tone outdo her fear. He must know that, as a Westerner, she had access to news agencies, enterprises of scrutiny, an embassy window with a person who cared. Langy and the boy set the bag on the patio and backed away.
    â€œThe boy finds this,” the concierge said.
    â€œWhere? Here? Tell me. In the hotel?”
    The concierge did not answer, and instead held his hands in a prayer shape against his lips and tapped his fingers.
    â€œIt’s a bomb, isn’t it?” she said. She thought, So they do go in runs. “Tell me.”
    â€œYes. He finds it in the lobby.”
    â€œYou need to call the police.”
    The concierge took in the rows of workers watching her on their patios and balconies. His eyes seemed to sweep over the expanse of the apartments, not suspiciously but with a hard, unhurried sadness. She’d seen the same expression in the faces of families back in Chicago when she told them their plots of gardens would be cemented over for buildings, for development. The look of a bitter ending. Then it occurred to Haley: when the news broke, when she told someone that a bomb had been found here, the resort would suffer, their jobswould evaporate, detonation or not. This place would be over and she would be responsible for it. In an instant, the consequences tunneled out and away from her. Forget the ring. She and Mac would leave tomorrow on the first plane, back to what was theirs.
    â€œPlease go,” the concierge said, and waved her off.
    She walked through the gate and back into the foyer, then out to the beach, where a smaller, hardier circle of newlyweds continued to smoke. She folded her pants and blouse and walked into the calm lagoon. Nothing could hurt her out here. She swam out to the raft and lifted herself up.
    The visiting yacht was nearby, and she could make out the bodies at the railing. They laughed at each other in a foreign language and leapt into the water. A woman in heels climbed down a rope ladder and fell. They were drunk, senseless, swimming at the boat’s waterline, champagne flutes held in the air. Soon they would all know better.

The End of the Age Is Upon Us
    Leah,
    I forgot to tell you about the gravity + how I felt it! When we took the van this afternoon, just you + me, the whole way I heard a hum, like when you walk into the house + sense a television is on. Like electricity at the fringes. My container lifted, then pulled against the seat belt. It was the ship, at last, calling me, readying me for the jump. I wanted so badly to tell you, but wanting is a feeling, the hardest one to subtract. I looked up, but there were just clouds, dumb earth weather. The ship was invisible, just like Bo explained, tucked somewhere, in the tail of the comet.
    Science proves there are all kinds of gravities. Moon ache makes tides. Even you, Leah, pull me. In two days, when the comet comes closest, we’ll get on the scales + they’ll say zero.
    We drove to the university to post the Final Offer + it was strange because we saw brush fires in the foothills near the freeway. They made such a bright yellow hem in the hillside. I think California is going to die right after we do. Gray smoke drifted in the sky, the sun on a dimmer. As I drove, I staredinto the sun, dared it to blind me, but it didn’t so I won. When the snowflakes of ash flurried around the van, you weren’t scared because you had your Bible in your lap, the one that you highlighted so much in yellow + orange + green marker that it looked like the flag of some weird African country. You tucked your feet underneath you, pushed your glasses up + read from the unboring part. “I will show wonders in Heaven above + earth beneath, blood + fire + vapor of smoke,” you said, “The Sun shall be turned into darkness + the moon into blood.” It was as if the Bible were a movie that we were watching + also living in, like costars!
    The sky was scrubbed