But there was one person I couldn’t forgive: myself. All this time, I’d known better than to be on the path I was on, but I’d pretended not to. I’d lied to myself constantly so I could keep going and never have to confront what I was. I’d said my problem with killing was simply aesthetics. I’d told myself that I was best alone and had nothing to gain from being around other people. And when I’d slaughtered the people at the conference, I’d told myself I was being righteous, when I was just indulging myself. My logic told me I had nothing to apologize for, but why did I always turn to it to justify myself? What was I fighting against? So what if I couldn’t naturally feel that an action was right or wrong? I could still see the horrors of what I did. I could see the effect I had on people. And I chose to close myself to it. I chose it.
Even now, my logical side told me I was agonizing over nothing. The world was pointless, and it didn’t matter what I did, because the end was always the same. But I didn’t care what that part of me had to say anymore. Look what it had gotten me: a miserable, meaningless death. Of course, it had never promised me any better than that. So why had I devoted myself to it? Why was I such a fool? Why didn’t I even try to find something more in the universe? Was it all because I was scared to confront what I was? What I’d made of myself?
Of course, the realization didn’t matter now. It was too late; this was my end. And there certainly was no father coming to embrace the prodigal son who decided to change his ways. He was the one who shot me.
A flash of lightning showed the silhouettes of trees far above me, the only witnesses to my imminent death. And the rain pelting my face was the only feeling I had left. I was going to die quite inanely, unmourned, and alone, my only comfort being that I didn’t deserve any better. What was there in this life for me to hold on to, anyway? Everything in my life was so empty now. Except one thing. That brief feeling I’d had when Diane told me she loved me—when I saw that she meant it. I couldn’t understand what it was, but I wanted to hold on to it.
Diane. The police had her, and she was an easy target for Nystrom. For Anthony. I had what I deserved, but I didn’t want her to suffer anymore. It just didn’t seem right.
I looked up as the lightning flashed again. “You have to protect her!” I called out. Did I believe in God now? I didn’t feel like thinking it through—I just wanted Diane safe and had no other options left. “You can’t let them hurt her anymore,” I pleaded, my voice now more subdued. “Please.”
Soon the rain lessened. I thought maybe it was a sign that He heard me. At least I simply chose to see it that way, as it provided some comfort. So I closed my eyes and waited for the end.
But I was so scared.
You’re just slipping into oblivion, I told myself. There’s nothing to fear. It was no use, though. I felt more alone than I ever had in my whole life. It was becoming an all-engulfing despair, a misery that felt never-ending. Was this the hell Diane had mentioned? Was that where I was going?
Frightened, I opened my eyes. I saw her face one last time. Heard her call my name. She looked scared. It pained me to see it, especially knowing that it was my fault. “I’m so sorry,” I called out to her. “I’m sorry for what I did to you. Don’t be sad, please.”
And then she slapped me. “Rico!” she yelled again, this time louder.
I looked again and saw not just fear but also determination. “You’re real?”
“Yes, Rico.” I could feel her hand touch my face.
“How’d you find me?”
“I started tracking Dip’s signal when he connected to the computer in my headquarters. And then we saw the explosion. What happened?”
I smiled. She was okay—she’d somehow gotten away from the police. “You need to get out of here. Others may come.”
“We’ll leave with you. Now what happened to you?”
“Shot. Also poisoned, I think. Can’t move.” My vision was fading still. I did my best to stay focused on her face.
“Verg, I’m going to need you to come help me move him. Can you land over here?” she called into a radio. “He’s been poisoned—I’m not sure what. We need something for it.” She looked at me. “Hang on, okay? Our ship is in a clearing nearby.” She had kind eyes filled with concern for me. Despite it all, despite being the last person in the universe who deserved it, she still cared for me.
“I’m so sorry for what I said to you. For hitting you. I was trying to protect you. To keep you away from me. I’m nothing but death. I didn’t want you coming back for me.”
“Yeah, that was really stupid.” I could see she was holding my hand though I couldn’t feel it. “The least we mass-murderers can do is stick together and try to help each other climb out of the holes we dig, okay?”
“I should have listened to you. I ended up helping them with my big show. It was exactly what they wanted, what they knew I’d do. I should have listened to you about so many things.” It hurt me to think she had seen what I’d done at the capitol, that she saw fully what a monster I am.
“Don’t worry about that. You know the syndicates. You can help us figure out what to do next.” So there was some utility in her coming for me, hoping I would be an asset in the fight against the syndicates. I couldn’t have expected her to come out of mere concern for me. Not after what I’d done to her. This made more sense.
“I’m sorry I tricked you. I’m sorry I tricked you into saying you loved me. I’m sorry I made you look like a fool.”
“Love doesn’t make me a fool. You may think you don’t deserve love—and I have been there, too—but it is stronger than any of our actions. I love you, okay? Not who you pretend to be, but who you really are. Do you believe me?”
I really wanted to believe. “You love everyone, though.”
She smiled and stroked my hair. “But I’m here now with you.”
It was hard not to think of her as a fool for coming for me, for not leaving me to die as I deserved. Especially after seeing what I was and after what I had done to her. But I wanted to believe her. I wanted to think I was someone worth her time and concern. I couldn’t, but perhaps she saw something I was unable to. Her loving face did not reflect any scorn for what I was. I so wanted to reach up and touch her, but all I could do was stare at her as my life faded. “You’re very beautiful. I don’t know if I told you that. Women like to be told things like that. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
I hoped she would smile, but I saw tears streaming down her face. “Hold on, Rico. I didn’t find you just to watch you die.”
“No. Don’t cry…please. Please, Diane…” I could feel my mind fading; it was painful to keep my thoughts together. “Be happy. Please smile. Please be happy. You deserve that. You’re not like me. You’ve already given me more than I deserve.”
I could tell my final moments were here. I’d had a lot of ideas of what my death would be like—sudden and violent, slow and pointless—but never in my wildest imagination had I thought I’d die with someone actually shedding tears over me. And even more preposterous would be that my last thoughts would be for the happiness of another. It was absolutely absurd…but somehow it also made perfect sense. I couldn’t quite understand it, but it’s like everything I was looking for was right there. I’d wasted my life pursuing nothing, but there was something in life of real value, and it was here right now, hovering just out of my grasp. If only I had more time to understand. But it was too late now.
I felt myself being lifted. Diane went out of view, and I tried looking around for her, but I couldn’t move my head. Then everything got brighter—maybe lights from inside a vehicle—but even the brighter light was fading along with my life. I saw what I thought was a man standing over me, and it looked like he injected me with something, but soon the all-encompassing darkness overtook me, and I lost view of him, too. Without thinking, I called out, “Diane!” I didn’t know why. I was alone my whole life, but now I was terrified of being alone.
I couldn’t see an
ything, but I heard her voice. “I’m here, Rico. Don’t be afraid. I’m here.”
I made my best attempt at a smile and relaxed, ready for the world to end. Yes, I realized now that I had wasted my life—had never even tried to make much of it, really—and given another chance, I would do things much differently. But death was mere moments away, and there was nothing I could do about that now. Instead, I decided to try and enjoy my last few seconds, feeling the presence of someone who actually cared for me standing by my side, strange miracle that it was. More than her presence, though, I thought I actually could begin to feel her hand squeezing mine. And then my final moments of consciousness turned to panic. Believing I needed to change my life and “better” myself were lovely idle thoughts before death, but what in the world was I going to do if I somehow lived?
All rights reserved, including without limitation the right to reproduce this ebook or any portion thereof in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2014 by Frank J. Fleming
ISBN: 978-1-5040-0742-9
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