Read The Shore for Free Online Page B

balcony. One of the eyes moved, became a fat droplet that slid down the door, glistening.
    What’s wrong with me? She stepped closer to the glass. Rolling blots marked the edges of the sea. There’s nothing there. Often, she had considered that this view made her life endurable, but this winter the hushed whisper of the surf seemed only to intensify her constant unease. All of a sudden, I’m scared of reflections? She pulled a cord, and the drapes swung closed, leaving only a wedge of darkness at the center. Who did I think was that big anyway?
    The central heat rushed on with a grunting exhalation, as though some beast hulked below the grill on the floor. She stepped over the barbells on the carpet, got her running jacket from the closet, pulling up the tight hood of the jogging suit. Tucking her short red curls in all around, she rummaged on the closet shelf for leg warmers and a hat. Where did I…? She opened a bureau drawer to a snarl of scarves, and her attention settled irresistibly on the pistol that nestled among them. For a moment, her hand hovered. Then she slid it out of the holster and almost tenderly hefted it before returning it to the leather pouch and smoothing a scarf around it. No one knew about the gun. She’d had it since Boston. The force here didn’t even carry them.
    I’m just jumpy. Perhaps the run would help. Who wouldn’t be jumpy after today? The run would have to help: she would not resume the tranquilizers, refused even to consider it. No, she was through with all that.
    Grabbing her keys from the small kitchen table, she let the door slam behind her. This stairwell always looked unfinished to her, as though the glaring white paint had been intended as an undercoat. Months earlier, her firstfloor neighbors had moved away; yet halfway down she paused, listening. Wind soughed through the foundations. Near the entrance, dank, heavy musk clung to the carpet, something no amount of airing had ever more than temporarily diminished, and an arctic night seemed to bulge at the front door. Squaring her shoulders, she flung it open and stepped out onto the landing.
    The chill shocked her. A swath of light rippled briefly; then the door banged shut behind her. Slowly adjusting to the dark, she let her gaze drift out over the bay. She could just make out pinpoints of light on the mainland, faint as distant stars.
    Here goes. Freezing air drilled into her chest as she ran in place for a moment, swinging her arms. Then she launched herself down the stairs and into the bottomless night.
    Monsters.
    He’d hung up the phone, feeling bitterly wretched. They couldn’t seem to talk about anything else anymore. He stopped pacing and peered out the window. Had there ever been a time when they could? The endless hunt had consumed both their lives, crowding out everything else. He knew what he had to do now. But what if nothing could draw the boy out of hiding? What if all the months spent tracking him here ended in failure? How could he face her again?
    He poked the curtains aside. At the end of the block below, a car swung onto the street, and the glacial glow of its headlights somehow made him feel even more isolated. It was time to make his sweep of the streets.
    Shrugging into his jacket, he eased open the door, and light swung out across the faded hall carpet. He stared into the brown gloom. Unable to bring himself to switch off the lamp, he closed the door on it instead, then felt his way along the hall, letting his hand ride the gritty banister as he descended into vague brightness. The stairs creaked in agonized whispers.
    The lamp on the desk still glimmered. Barely. Twenty watts? Nice of them to make that concession to his presence, he thought. They’re probably asleep. He crept across the lobby, the damp chill penetrating his clothes before he reached the foyer. The inner doors groaned softly. In the vestibule, murky illumination quivered through a design on the leaded glass. He put his shoulder to