Читать книгу The Astral, or, Till the Day I Die - V. J. Banis - Страница 3

PROLOGUE

It was everything just as she had always heard it described: the tunnel, the light, blinding white light, and there was everyone waiting to greet her. Gosh, that was her father, wasn’t it? And there was Aunt Fanny, and....

“Catherine.” She heard her name distinctly, from somewhere behind. She looked back, and saw Jack in the distance. Jack? That wasn’t possible, surely, not after all these years?

“Catherine,” he called again, “Come back. You can’t go yet.”

Ahead, her loved ones waited for her, willing her to come to them. When she tried to look at them, however, actually to see them, there were no images. It was more as if she felt them. She simply knew they were there, and she wanted to join them, truly she did. She couldn’t go back. She wouldn’t.

And yet...she glanced back once more at Jack and all the years fell away, and in an instant, she remembered the feel of his arms about her, his lean, hard body against hers. How could she remember anything so physical, here, now?

Someone—some thing—separated itself from the light, something of light itself, but so bright, so intense, that she could not bear to look directly at it, and shielded her eyes.

“You must go back.” It was like a voice inside her head; she could hear it and yet she knew that no sound had been made. “He is there. You must find him. There is something that you must do, that only you can do.”

“I can’t go back. Please, spare me. The pain—I know what happens. It’s more than I could bear.”

“He is there.”

“Who?”

But it was too late, already she could feel herself returning, the voices were fading, the light retreating, further and further until....

Until she was back, in a bed, and the pain was crashing through her, seeming to crush her in its horrible embrace, and somewhere a triumphant voice was saying, “We’ve got her. She’s alive.”