Long Division (37 page)

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Authors: Taylor Leigh

BOOK: Long Division
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But it was never meant to be.

He pulled the trigger and my world slammed to a halt.

The
BANG!
ripped through my mind, deafening me. I saw James’s head snap back. A mist of red. I couldn’t hear the words my lungs told me I was screaming, but still I shouted his name till it hurt my insides, burnt my chest, clenched my gut.

His knees gave way. He sank. Lifeless.

My feet hit the tracks, I had to be by him, but it was then the train shrieked by, throwing me back, dividing us.

‘No! Oh God, no! No! No! No!’ I’d fallen flat. Scrambling. I could see his prone figure through the gaps in the train. Flickering by like a slideshow of photos.

‘JAMES!’ I screamed his name again. Tasted tears. The world was spinning. The whole bloody world.

As soon as the train has rattled past I was diving across the rails towards him. He didn’t move. His body lay slumped against the wall of the bridge, head back, legs akimbo, arms at his sides, not supporting him. I collapsed next to him, trying to ignore the red smear of blood down the steel. I grabbed the front of his jumper, shaking, crying. He wasn’t breathing. Wasn’t moving. And I knew looking at him now that he never would again. The life. The spirit. His beautiful mind. It was gone. All that he’d left me with was an empty, cold shell. As I gript at him, his head gently lolled towards me. I rocked back on my heels as I was faced with him.

His face looked so perfect. Like nothing was wrong. There was only one very tiny fleck of red colouring his otherwise pale cheek. His green eyes stared past me, glassy and unseeing. I reached out and took his hand in mine. A broken sob cracked through my lips. I tried to control it. I couldn’t.

I howled at the sky, still clutching at his rumpled tweed jacket, and the sky took it all. Through my tears I did not notice the time crawl by. I didn’t see it had changed. That two-thirty had come and gone, as had the InVizion agent, failed at his job to always keep Nightgood from harm. And as people gradually did arrive, as they always did, and pulled me away, sobbing, heels scraping, away from my friend, I knew we’d not come to the end. Humanity was still there, but God help me, I hated them all for it.

 

25:Remainder

 

 

Three weeks and I was still here.

The world hadn’t ended. But mine had.

I stared out at my small, grimy window. At the non-existent view I had. It was raining again. It was raining and I hadn’t moved.

Every day felt the same now. Like before. Before him.

James brought the colour back to my existence. Now that was gone. Back to the grey. Back to alone.

Sometimes, I managed to encourage myself.

Everything will be fine. Fine.

We’ll see each other again, James.
That was all I could tell myself.

But I knew that wasn’t true. I knew we’d spent the last of our time long ago. And somehow I had to recover. He’d disappeared. I couldn’t reach him, mentally or otherwise. He was gone.

A lull in the clouds made me pull on a jumper and take to the streets. I didn’t know where I’d go. Probably the park.

I had to go out, sometimes, more than I needed to in the past. I needed to see the people. I needed to see the world. I needed to know it was still turning.

James had saved everyone. And still, no one knew. InVizion no longer had the propaganda control that it had once held; for once James had ended himself, all of the devices had died as well. Their little red lights gone out; and no one could figure out how to make them work again. All of our little tumours became minor headaches; freak growths blamed on the environment. The tower was considered too dangerous to reconstruct and was demolished completely. From what I was told there was not much that could have been salvaged from its remains. The Chairman, and whoever was left on the board had slunk off into the shadows, out of sight, out of mind. It bothered me sometimes, at the very back of my mind. But they no longer had their research. They no longer had their mind. I did not know what else they could accomplish without that.

I turned into Hyde Park and ignored the footpaths as I marched onwards, huffing my breath, glad to feel some sort of movement in me that pushed back the hovering sense of dread. It was difficult most days to not give in. Not go the way James had gone. God knew I wanted to. Time and again.

But I’d survived; because I didn’t think he’d much approve. So I lived as best I could. Yet it all still hung over me. Trapping me. It was a struggle, yeah, but he’d fought for me, I had to honour that somehow. So I tried to live. I went out with Ashely on weekends; I searched for a job I really wanted.

And I wrote.

I stopped at the edge of one of the long stretches of tall grass and felt the heavy weight of loss once again press down.

Once again in my mind, as it always seemed to do, his head lolled forward, falling to my chest. The back, where his messy hair was so normally soft, was blown away. He was open, exposed. And it terrified me to see him that way. His whole body, limp in my arms. Helpless. Nothing I could do.

My hands balled into fists. I had to escape it. I had to get beyond.

And then I went racing through the grass, feeling it whip against the sides of my jeans. My legs burned as I struggle forward, trying to push the clouds behind me. Images flashed past, like the people staring at me, memories. His face. Conversations, the touch of skin, equations dancing across the walls, his green eyes glowing with the joy and wonder of the unknown.

He was smiling in my head, laughing at something. Probably some stupid bloody maths joke no one but him understood. I could see the eyes sparkling. That wide grin, those lips I’d kissed only a handful of times. I always pictured him with his hair, as it was falling now, across his tall forehead. Damn him.

At last, exhaustion hit me. I sank to my hands and knees, wracking breaths fighting their way through now breaking sobs and I broke under the weight.

Something wet hit my hand, the back of my neck, the space between my trousers and jumper, like the cool of his fingertips.
Pat, pat, pat
of rain. It was like a washcloth draped over my neck: soothing, gentle. With each heavy, uncontrolled sob that beat its way out of my body, the rain calmed. The heat of my emotions was leaving.

The rain picked up. I sank back on my calves and pressed a palm to my eyes, trying to rub away the burning red of tears.

There was nothing I could do now to stop what had happened. We’d both known, in the end, that it would happen. Perhaps, long ago, before I’d even gone to the tower, we’d acknowledged that it was the end for us. We’d held out our hope, of course, a tiny little flame, flickering, about to die, but we’d both known.

I sniffed and looked up. More dark clouds were coming in. I’d be soaked soon if I didn’t get out of it. I tried to find some sort of motivation to move.

You have to stop running. He didn’t do this for you to die with him. You’re alive.

I stood.

The seasons, I knew, would change still. The world still turn. Life was going to go on. I wasn’t the same as I’d been a year ago, how long that felt now. And yes, he’d not left me with much, but he was still there in my memory. And I wouldn’t forget.

The rain started harder and I felt it begin to dampen my clothing. I shook out my hair, feeling the water droplets fly. I’d not let him die. Not completely. Someone would listen. Someone would understand. I could find others.

And maybe, once I got his story down, he’d be alive still, somehow.

The rain pushed me back towards shelter, and I trudged, heavily, my hand tightened around a thumb drive, tucked deep into my pocket.

Perhaps, one day, his memory would live on.

 

About the Author

 

Taylor Leigh has been in love with writing ever since she learned how. She’s loved stories and books her entire life and is happy she gets to spend every day with them, since she works at a library. She loves all things science fiction and fantasy and sees a great need to put it in all she writes. She loves hearing what other people have to say about it. Please visit her on Facebook at Taylor Leigh Writes, and on Twitter @TaylorLWrites, where you can find more about her books and other ways to contact her.

Cover art by Tillieke

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