River’s End

couldn’t.
    “I—”
    “You can call from in here.” Olivia took his arm gently, spoke with absolute calm. The blank fear on his face set off screams of alarm in her head, but her hand was steady as she led him past the desk and into a back office.
    “You can dial direct from here. I’ll just—” She started to step back, intending to give him privacy, but his hand clamped over hers.
    He said nothing at all, just held on while he dialed the number. His grip on her anchored him as a dozen terrors spun through his head. His palm went sweaty on the receiver as it rang once, twice, then his mother’s voice, rushed and breathless, had a spike of ice slicing into his gut.
    “Mom?”
    “Oh, Noah, thank goodness.”
    “Dad?” He lived a thousand hells in the heartbeat it took her to answer.
    “No, no, honey. It’s not Frank. Your father’s fine.” Before his knees could buckle with relief, she was rushing on. “It’s Mike, Noah.”
    “Mike?” His fingers tightened on Olivia’s, turning both their knuckles white. “What’s wrong? What happened?”
    “Noah, I—God . . . He’s in the hospital. He’s in a coma. We don’t know how bad. They’re running tests, they’re doing everything they . . .”
    When she began to weep, Noah felt his guts slide into greasy knots. “What happened? A car accident?”
    “No, no. Someone hurt him. Someone hit him and hit him. From behind, they say. He was in your house last night.”
    “At the beach house? He was at my place?” Denial and fear pounded through him. “It happened last night?”
    “Yes. I didn’t hear about it until this morning, early this morning. Your father’s at the hospital now. I’m going back. They’ll only let one of us sit with him at a time, for just a few minutes. He’s in Intensive Care.”
    “I’ll be there as soon as I can. I’ll take the first flight out.”
    “One of us will be at the hospital. Maggie and Jim—” Her voice broke again when she spoke of Mike’s parents. “They shouldn’t be alone there.”
    “I’m on my way. I’ll come straight there. Mom . . .” He could think of nothing. Nothing. “I’m on my way,” he said again. He hung up the phone, then just stared at it. “My friend, he was attacked. He’s in a coma. I have to go home.”
    He still had her hand, but his grip was loose now. She could feel his fingers tremble.
    “Go pack what you need. I’ll call the airport, book you a flight.”
    “What?”
    Her heart broke for him. Looking at his pale face and stunned eyes, there was room for no other feeling but pity. “It’ll save time, Noah. Just go up and get what you need. I’ll get you to the airport.”
    “Yeah . . . God.” He snapped back, eyes clearing, face going hard and tight. “Just get me a seat, whatever gets me to L.A. quickest. Standby if nothing else. I’ll be ready in five minutes.”
    He was as good as his word and was back at the office door before she’d completed the booking. He hadn’t bothered to change, she noted, and carried only his backpack and laptop.
    “You’re set.” She rose quickly from behind the desk. “It’s a private airstrip about forty minutes from here, friends of my grandparents. They’ll take off as soon as you get there.”
    She snagged a set of keys off a board as she headed out of the office. She jogged to a Jeep in the side lot, unlocked it and climbed in as he tossed his pack in the back.
    “I appreciate it.”
    “It’s all right. Don’t worry about the rest of your things and your car. We’ll deal with it.” She drove fast, her hands competent on the wheel, her eyes straight ahead. “I’m sorry about your friend.”
    The initial shakes had passed, but he laid his throbbing head back against the seat. “I’ve known him forever. Second grade. He moved into the neighborhood. Pudgy kid, a complete dork. You were honor bound to beat the shit out of him. I was going to take my shot but just couldn’t do it. He was so oblivious of his own dorkiness. Still is. He had this ridiculous crush on Marcia Brady.”
    “Is she your cousin?”
    “Huh? Oh, Brady. No, Marcia, Marcia, Marcia. The Brady Bunch.” He opened his eyes long enough to give her a look of astonishment, then sighed. “Right, no TV. Doesn’t matter. He’s the sweetest person I know. Dead loyal and completely harmless. Son of a bitch!” He pounded his fist on the dash, then pressed his hands to his face. “Son of a bitch. He’s in a coma, a fucking coma. My mother