The Last Network - Chapter 51
Slate
He opened the French doors to the Pacific. Monica stood naked in the sand. She was smoking a cigarette, holding a small white cup of steaming black coffee. Paolo made out a line of goosebumps running down her shoulders and over her thighs. The ocean was the smell of salt and the steady crash of waves. Fog consumed the view, hiding the never-ending sea from their sights. Somewhere a gull cried out. It would not scavenge until the sun burned through. Paolo had a fluffy white towel wrapped around his waist and another draped over his shoulders. The wet January chill seeped through the slate deck stones. He shivered.
They were in a small white cottage built into the side of a hill. The master bedroom opened onto the deck and beach. The rest of the house was upstairs, just a living room, kitchen, and a small guest room. Such a modest home for so prime a location.
The house was empty and spotless. Like they had never been there at all.
Paolo looked to the right, they were on a small cove. He could make out the sea meeting rocks and scrub, a few hardy trees dug in to a creek. To the left were a couple hundred yards of sand, then a cliff butted into the ocean. Everything else was lost to the mist.
He had no idea where he was or what time it was.
Monica turned and walked towards him. He held the towel out and took her coffee cup. She looked up into his eyes. Her pupils were white and clear. She ran her hands down his sides. There wasn’t a scratch.
“Do you remember anything about last night?” she asked.
“No,” he answered, running his hand over the towel covering her back.
“Neither do I.”
“Do you know this place?” Paolo asked as he looked around.
“No.”
“Neither do I.”
“My mobile is gone. There’s no TV in the house, no clocks, no calendars. A pathway leads up the hill.” Monica walked towards the French doors.
“What do you think is there?”
She turned in the direction of the path and gave him a smile. “A gassed-up SUV with the keys in it and our things in back. Malcolm has done this before.”
“Done what?”
“Left me in another world.”
“I don’t want to leave, Monica.”
“Neither do I. We’ll stay another night. Just you and me this time.”