Flynn
I’m standing on the roof of my apartment. The city sprawls out before me, stretching far, countless streets, houses, condos, stores. Down below people walk along the sidewalks, alongside cars in the street. They travel through alleys, from their car in the parking lot to a store and back again. And beyond that: the rest of the world. Yet it doesn’t feel like there’s any more world out there than the one I live in. It doesn’t feel like there’s anything outside the walls of Santa Espera.
I didn’t sleep last night. My body is exhausted, but my mind keeps racing. Reliving the events of last night over and over in my mind.
When the facility went up in flames, I felt part of me go up with it. The Bullets part. The part that was stuck in the past, stuck wanting only to goof off, joke around—stay put right where I felt the most comfortable, which was no place at all.
But last night I made a decision. I’m getting rid of that part of me. It sloughed off me like a skin, and afterward I felt so … free. So alive.
The police came. Firefighters too. I guess somebody called the inferno in. I rode away when I heard sirens approaching. Saw their flashing lights coming up from down the street. I slid back into the shadows, took the circuitous paths around them. Didn’t want to let anybody know I was there. The police cruisers and fire engines passed me by. When I was on the outskirts I stopped, listened to the men and women yelling at one another, the loud fwoosh! of the fire hose, trying to put out the flames.
My heart was pounding like mad. I zoomed out of there, sped around, feeling more alive and exhilarated than I have in a long time. And within all of that was the thought of Trista. Trista! The one for whom I did all this. I decided that this will be my penance. This will be my gift to her: the destruction and dissolution of Will Silver’s plans and investments. All done in the dark, on the down-low. If I can’t assist in taking out his life, then I can take out his livelihood instead.
I rode the streets up and down. I had nowhere else to go. My work wasn’t done yet—it wouldn’t make sense to call Trista and tell her all about it. Besides, it was the middle of the night. And she’d find out soon enough, one way or another.
As I drove my bike I saw things differently. The streets, the buildings, all the people in Santa Espera. Things could be different. Better. We can clean this place up. People slept on bus stop benches, beat each other up in alleys. Drug addicts killing one another, robbing innocents. It could be better for them. They’re just trying to survive in this fucked up city that Will Silver has made.
After about an hour of riding I realized how hungry I was. I hadn’t eaten anything since that late lunch in the Thirsty Sister with Katie! So I found an all-night diner and went in, getting a club sandwiched with fries and a coffee. The coffee was probably a bad idea, but I knew I didn’t feel like sleeping anyway. My brain was working overtime!
As I sat at one of the tables, dipping my fries in ketchup and drinking my coffee, I watched as people came in and out of the diner, walked down the sidewalks. I thought about their lives. What it was like being them in this city. How did they get by? These, the types of people who would be out wandering the streets in the middle of the night on a weekday. Did they have actual jobs? Did they do part-time work, or freelance their time? Maybe they gambled or just did gigs to make ends meet. I recognized some of the passers-by as druggies who’ve purchased product from the Slingers.
I wondered how they would have felt if they knew what I was planning. Wondered, if I told them, if they would even know what I was talking about. I mean, everybody in this city is aware of PharmaChem. It’s impossible not to be. But how many people know who Will Silver is, by name? How many people know that their boss’s boss might report back to Will? Or that it’s their boss’s boss’s boss? Almost everybody, every business, in this city is connected to Will Silver in one way or another. He runs this town. Like a puppet master, he engineered this city to be exactly what he wanted it to be. And now he’s going too far. Now he’s bitten off more than he can chew, and he has to pay for it.
Eventually I got bored, so I paid for my meal and got back on my bike, riding away again. The coffee pumped its caffeine through my veins, and the wind in my hair combined to make me feel like I was flying.
The sun was starting to come up. People were opening up their shops, getting in their cars to drive to work and start the day. I didn’t want to be around these people—and so many of them!—so I headed back to my apartment. I didn’t really want to go there, but I didn’t have anywhere else to go.
When I got here I walked up to my place, but just as I was about to put the key in the lock I stopped. Inside there were memories of Trista. Her essence, her influence, everywhere. I didn’t want that right then. So instead I turned and walked away, down the hall. I got to the stairwell doors, went in, and started climbing up instead of going down. I arrived at the rooftop doorway and pushed it open, to be greeted by the brilliant streams of colorful sunshine, just starting to say Good Morning to the day.
And that’s where I stayed. I don’t know how long I’ve been up here. It’s got to have been hours. The sun is far past the horizon already. Nobody has come up to join me. I’m all right with that. Thankful, even. The solitude is good. It’s good to get my head clear. I’m coming down from the coffee high. I can feel my muscles getting weak. Wobbly. And my thoughts are dragging a little. But I can still think.
Trista. She’s never far from my thoughts. I’ve got to keep going. Got to continue the work that I started last night. Those drugs … they can’t be made anymore. Will has to be stopped. I’ve got to stop him. Trista will thank me. She’ll know what I did. And when she does, I hope she wants to be with me again. I look out to the east, towards the desert. The place where I helped save Trista’s life last night. The place where she was almost raped and killed. The place where her attempted rapist is buried, dead and gone.
Ahh … I feel dizzy.
The sun is beating down on me. I blink, my mouth feeling like cotton. It’s only now that I realize how hot it is. I’m still wearing my leather jacket. I pull it off and it sticks to me. Have I been sweating this entire time? What time is it?
I pull my cell phone out and open the display to see. It’s just before noon. Fuck. My body feels weak … shaky. My head is swimming. I should go inside. I turn and head for the rooftop door, opening it up, stepping inside. It feels cool, relative to the outside. I have to grip the handrail as I make my way downstairs to my floor. Open the door to the hall I walk through, finally unlocking my own door and stepping in.
It’s quiet inside. I hang up my leather jacket, walk over to the bathroom and go pee. After washing my hands I step back out, head into the kitchen to get a glass of water. That’s when I see the dishes from our breakfast, sitting in the drying rack. That was a million years ago, that breakfast. The day we thought we might finally have Will Silver. But then it all went to shit.
I have to get her back. I have to keep doing my work.
I take a glass down from the cupboard and fill it with water, chugging it all. Then I fill it up again and take it into the bedroom. The bed. The sheets are still rumpled, the pillows holding the indents from the weight of our heads.
She’s everywhere. Everywhere I look, there she is.
There’s a hollow in my heart that I desperately want filled. I did this to myself. I could have stayed. But not when things were unfinished. Trista has her own way of doing things, and I’m going to show her that I have mine. Setting my jaw, I place the glass of water down and take off my boots, flopping down onto the bed.
I pull the cell phone out of my pocket, setting the alarm for ten o’clock. That should be enough time to sleep, and then it’ll be dark. Dark enough to continue my work. Dark enough to slip along unnoticed. By the time all this is done, I’ll have made things better. I’m doing this for Trista. I just hope she appreciates it.
I close my eyes and slip off to sleep.