Jack Beale 00 - Killer Run

down on the bar just out of his reach. “Come, help me get this place closed so we can go home.”
    Jack began to stretch for the book. He was curious, but she pushed it further away and gave him a look that stopped him cold. “Fine,” he said shrugging, “What can I do?”
    “The dining rooms are all set. Could you take the trash out while I finish here in the bar?” Max really hated to take the trash out. Even though it had been a couple of years since she was kidnapped off the loading dock, she was still nervous about going out there alone.
    “No problem.” Jack began to consolidate and then tie up the bags of garbage. As soon as five had become two, he headed out back. When he returned, he found Max standing at the bar reading.
    “Max,” he said, surprised to find her so engrossed again.
    She looked up, slapped the book shut, and pulled her keys out of her pocket. “All set. Let’s go.”

CHAPTER 2
    THE SUN HAD JUST RISEN. Jack slid out of the bed as quietly as possible so as not to disturb Max. Cat lifted her head and gave him a look that said, “What’s the matter with you? It’s too early!” Then she tucked her head back under her forearm, sighed once, and promptly fell back asleep. As he looked down at the two sleeping forms Jack paused, thinking about how lucky he was to be alive and how it was because of them.
    He hadn’t slept well since spring. He rarely did. Most nights, sleep came in small doses, the longest no more than four hours. After that, he would toss and turn. He wasn’t really sound asleep, nor was he wide-awake. During these hours, dreams, ideas, memories, and solutions to problems mixed together and filled his head.
    The one constant that remained and haunted him was the shadow of evil that had so affected all of their lives. It was fading, but some things can never be erased. Cat had fought that evil presence and, though wounded, survived. Max had saved his life and together they had watched his boat sink. She held him without question when the nightmares were the worst. He would do anything for her, but he still felt that he could never fully repay her. He marveled and wondered at the source of her strength.
    Stepping out of this reverie, Jack grabbed his running stuff and then slipped out of the room. As he dressed, a welcome sense of anticipation crept in. For Jack, running in the early morning was different than running at other times of the day. Physically it was the same―the breathing, his stride, the stretching of muscles, the sweat. The difference was more spiritual. A new day was beginning, he had survived another night’s demons, and now with a run to clear his head, he had a chance to start fresh. It was a time when emotions and feelings seemed much purer, before the cluttering influence of a busy day’s activities.
    As Jack slipped out of the apartment, he took a deep breath, exhaled, stretched his arms up, and then twisted from side to side. That was enough. He never felt the need for any great amount of pre-run stretching or warming up. That’s what the first few miles were for. He glanced at his watch and then took the first steps of what would turn out to be five miles.
    There was little traffic on the roads, and the air was still infused with the coolness of the night. Within a half mile, his body had begun to adjust to its new reality. His stride became smoother, his breathing deep and regular, and, as he had expected, he could feel the demons of the past night fading, replaced by the clarity and optimism of a new day.
    As he ran, his ideas and thoughts morphed into one another, and within another mile or so he was thinking of the race that he and his best friend, Dave, had signed up to run. It was called the Rockdog Run. There were several distances to choose from, all on trails: a full marathon, a 50k, or a 50 miler. Dave and some of his other running friends had run the marathon before and had convinced him that it would be fun. He wasn’t so sure, but he had still allowed them to talk him into it. The idea of a marathon in the woods was intriguing.
    As he rounded the final turn that would bring him back home, Jack felt renewed. He slowed to a walk as he reached Ben’s, and out of habit he walked through the parking lot and stood at the edge overlooking the harbor.
    A faint breeze was blowing from the west. “That will keep the ocean flat,” Jack thought to himself. He watched as his friend Art skillfully guided the Sea Witch away from the