Available Darkness Season 1

stammered, trying to find a way to explain what he was thinking. The passenger John could hear the flood of thoughts echoing in his head, crossing over his own.
    “You just surprised me,” he said in the desperate tones of an accidentally honest man, “that’s all.”
    “I look ridiculous, don’t I?” she said, looking down and covering her breasts.
    “No, you look absolutely beautiful.” Passenger John felt as if he were also speaking, a simultaneous echo of his faded self.
    He felt like such an ass for laughing. Of course he found her sexy, doesn’t she know it by now? She was such a strong and confident woman and rarely showed such frailty. How could she not know? She looked up and their eyes met. He held her gaze. Hours of conversation passed without a word. He stood up and seemed to be instantly beside her, longing to be inside her.
    “I was just surprised; it would be like if I dressed up like a … I dunno, one of those Chippendale dancers or something,” he said, laughing, “Sure, I’d be sexy as all hell, but you’d be surprised.”
    She laughed, “So modest,” she said, the smile returning to brighten her face. “You sure I don’t look stupid?”
    He reached out, “Come here.”
    They touched.
    As he wrapped his arms around her and their bodies blended, passenger John felt the warmth of their embrace. He’d almost forgotten how good it felt to touch another. His fingers caressed her hair and traced the arch of her back as he pulled her tightly to him. His hunger to touch her, to feel her, to explore every inch of her body was fed insatiably by the dream self as he began to kiss and lick the small of her neck, downward, to her breasts and then back up, licking her lips before their mouths locked. Their eyes closed and for a moment there was only darkness and the sense of touch, the glorious warmth of their fingertips exploring one another.
    If his recent hours had been hell, this was nothing short of heaven.
    While kissing, he opened his eyes, and found she was looking at him. The passenger John felt his heart leap, in hopes that she was recognizing him, not only there in that moment in the bedroom, but also the him that was passed out in a motel room somewhere.
    He wanted to ask if she could see him , but his dream body would not cooperate. Their eyes locked and he was certain that somehow, if he just knew how, he could find a connection, somehow find a way to her in the present. Failing that, he was prepared to live forever in this moment.
    “Fuck me,” she said as her hands slid down to his cock.
    This time, John didn’t dare laugh.
    She pushed him gently down to the bed and he fell into the soft sheets.
    And he kept falling.
    John awoke back in the motel room. His body and heart were equally broken.

    * * * *

CHAPTER 16 — Larry Keriowski

    “How about that one?” Larry waved his finger at an old man slowly peddling a decrepit 10-speed in the dark, likely on his way to a job that had been swallowing his soul a sip at a time. Two plastic grocery bags dangled from the handlebars, heavy with a cheap prepared lunch or pages to turn while whittling away a 30 minute break.
    “No,” Abigail said, sitting beside Larry in the darkened van.
    They were parked beside two other cars, both broken down by the looks of it, at the far end of a gas station’s parking lot. From their position, they could see the station/convenience store and a small strip plaza, which was closed. They’d hoped to find some wayward soul up to no good, someone Abigail could agree was a “bad person.”
    Unlike Larry’s disastrous motel headquarters, the van was immaculately clean and well-organized, despite its outer appearance. Along one wall of the van stood a built-in table with a few monitors and on-board computers and a chair. The opposite wall held a long row of dark, heavy duty plastic totes which drew Abigail’s curiosity, though she’d refrained from asking about their contents.
    Larry had allowed Abigail to continue holding the gun, while also giving her a quick lesson in aim and handling. He had both a .45 of his own and a stun gun, which he was ready to use once they found the right person to accompany them back to the motel. Whoever they brought back had to be alive in order for John to feed.
    They’d been sitting in the parking lot for nearly 20 minutes, but the bicyclist was only the second person they’d seen. The first had been a heavyset woman in her late 40’s, out for an early