Empty Shells is an upcoming novel by Christopher Byron. While most of my novels are for readers of all ages, due to it's content, Empty Shells is intended for a mature audience.

Please make sure your younger readers  DO NOT get into this book.

A SNEAK PEAK of Empty Shells

“If you don't mind, I'd like to grab a quick shower.” He asked, eyes just reaching full open and blinking at the morning light spilling in her windows. The clock on the oven said 7:15. He was almost never up this early. Even with everything that had happened over the last few days, even with it being unconscionably early in the mind of a professional athlete, she still managed to be a vision of beauty in his eyes. He put one arm around her and kissed the top of her head. She giggled like a little girl. To him it was the sweetest sound he had ever heard.

“Go ahead, but make it quick. No one likes cold eggs. I think I have a tee shirt that'll fit you. On the jeans though you're out of luck.”

He started toward the bathroom, calling back over his shoulder, “I'll manage.”

In the bathroom he stripped out of yesterday's clothes and started the water. He squeezed a stripe of toothpaste onto his finger and did the best he could without his toothbrush. He slid behind the opaque curtain liner and stepped into the stream of hot water as the steam started filling the room, fogging the mirror and loosening his aching muscles. He knew he should hurry, but he lingered with the water pouring down on his shoulders and neck just a bit longer then he should have. He hitched the water to as hot as it could go, and it was almost enough. It was impossible to get a good shower anywhere but home, but it was better than nothing.

He looked around at the full half dozen bottles and tubes that littered the tub edges but was unable to decipher which one was soap. He settled for “All Natural, Deep Cleansing Body Wash.” He lucked out and was able to find one that actually said shampoo. He couldn't figure out what most of the others were. He chuckled and shook his head.

Girls.

He had forgotten to ask about a towel before getting in. As such the only thing within reach was a hand towel. He noticed that his jeans were folded on the toilet with is underwear and a clean shirt on top of them. When did she come in, he wondered? He hadn't noticed, but she'd left the door open most of the way when she left. He was smiling when he put the hand towel to his face, drying as best he could. When he lowered the towel he was facing the mirror. That's where he saw the girl, standing still in the door way.

It wasn't Lauren. That wouldn't have sent the spike of fear through him the way this had. She stood, unmoving in the door, with her steady gaze fixed on his in the reflection. He didn't move his head to look directly at her, instead focusing on what he was seeing in the mirror. He did lower the hand towel to his waist in a somewhat late display of modesty. The girl didn't budge as he struggled mentally with what he was seeing.

Shouldn't the glass be covered with steam? How could it be perfectly clear, with this girl looking at him? It was early, he couldn't process the images. How come she looked so familiar? Had he seen her before? He was sure he had. But where? What the...

Then the image behind her shifted. It became a corner store that he frequently stopped at when he went hiking up in Litchfield County. He remembered it plainly, the white front porch made it look more like an old house than a country store. As he digested that image, it changed again. This time to the head of a trail into the woods. The country store, Hannigan's was it's name, his mind playing catch-up just a bit too slow, was just visible in the distance down the road. Then the image changed again, gliding along the trail like a balloon on a breeze, only faster and with intent. Coming to a stop with at a small stand of white birch, the trees forming a lopsided arrow leading off the trail and into the woods. For the first time the girl moved.

She brought her arm up slowly. Her elbow didn't bend and the motion displayed a rigid stiffness that Ben could understand after the night on Lauren's couch. She pointed into the woods directly in line with the trees. Straight back. Her face didn't change, but somehow her eyes begged him to go to this place and follow those trees.

He knew where it was. It wasn't a long drive, an hour maybe. He looked at the vision in the mirror, feeling sad, suddenly recognizing her as the girl on the phone that had brushed past him in the sports store. The one that reminded him so much of Kara.

“Alright.” He said softly. “I'll go”

Her eyes softened at the pledge. Then her body sagged, her mouth opened and vomited clear water all over the floor, her eyes rolled back to the whites and her body took on a bluish cast as it seemed to float briefly in the air. Still the clear fluid gushed from her mouth.

Fear screamed in his mind as bitter cold ripped through him. “Jesus.” He exclaimed, stumbling out of the shower to try and catch her before she fell, his eyes finally tore from the mirror and looked into the doorway in the real world to see

Nothing.

He looked back to the mirror and it was completely fogged over with steam. His head swiveled back to the doorway in disbelief, then again back to the mirror. He nudged the door closed and slid down onto the floor trying to slow is racing heart. After a minute he stood and pulled his clothes on.

He had just made a promise to a dead girl. He knew he had to keep it, even if he couldn't understand it. As he stepped out of the bathroom, unconsciously stepping over where the image of the dead girl had vomited ice water on the floor, he called out, “Hey Lauren, how would you feel about going hiking with me this afternoon?”

Whether she went with him or not, he knew he was going.