Downfall by S.D. Wasley

  ****

  I arrived at the ruin in daylight for the first time. No other cars, but Cain’s bike was parked off to the side of the ruin. It gave me a jolt, gleaming blackly like that in the afternoon sunlight. I decided against going down to see him for the time being. I was nervous of being alone with him. Instead, I explored the ruin, ignoring the warning buzz of the electrical tower.

  Hopefully Cain was asleep down there but I stepped as quietly as possible just in case. If this ruin had once been a house it was unlike any other house I’d ever been in. There was a long, narrow central room flanked by rows of smaller ones that were too tiny to be of any practical use. Even with the complete absence of a roof, and the crumbling downwards of its stone walls, there weren’t enough windows in this structure for breathing―let alone living. It was a relief when I stepped out of the back of the building into a wide field. I inhaled the clean air. The electrical tower looked almost like it had grown up out of the center of the summer-dried field―a giant metallic tree. I picked my way through rubble and tufts of grass but stopped, startled, when chaotic screeching commenced in a nearby tree. It was just a flock of cockatoos squabbling over blossoms.

  Then I saw him. Beyond the electrical tower, deep in the yellow grass, what I’d thought was a shadow was Cain. Maybe it was leftovers from the birds’ shrieking, or maybe the sight of him, but I panicked. I had to force myself to walk toward him. He wore a faraway expression, as though listening to something distant ... perhaps the roaring of the wind or ocean.

  “I thought it was you,” I called. I needed to say something meaningless to get rid of that scary look on his face.

  Cain smiled. “Sprung.”

  “Yep.”

  He was on the ground, knees pulled up. I stopped before him, and pretended my heart wasn’t trying to beat its way out of my chest.

  “What are you doing out here, Cain?”

  “Waiting for you.”

  “Liar.” My voice trembled, so I tried to cover it by shooting him a smile. “I saw how surprised you were to see me. What are you thinking about, out here all by yourself?”

  “I was thinking about the time I came off my bike when I lived in Revel City.”

  I crouched down beside him. “What happened?”

  “A truck changed lanes in front of me but the driver didn’t see me, so he clipped my bike. This is what they tell me. I got knocked out as soon as I hit the ground and I don’t remember much.”

  “I guess someone called an ambulance?”

  “Yes. I went to the hospital with internal injuries and they had to operate. I was lying on the operating table, my eyes closed. I felt no pain but I could hear them talking, the doctors and nurses. Liz, too. I heard her through all the voices.” Cain’s expression went dreamy and almost painfully beautiful. “I felt like I was drifting away from myself. I could still hear voices but they weren’t doctors’ voices anymore.”

  “Sounds like the classic near-death experience,” I said. “Was there a bright light?”

  Cain smiled wryly. “Then it all came together again. I woke up the next day covered with bandages and intravenous drips.”

  “What did they tell you? That they’d had to resuscitate you?”

  “No.”

  “Then you didn’t die on the operating table. It wasn’t a near-death experience. It was probably all a hallucination brought on by the anesthetic.”

  He watched me in perplexity, as though he didn’t understand why I might say that. I felt a little faint as he gazed at me. It wasn’t especially warm but maybe I’d overheated or something. Cain rose to his feet and I followed suit, trying not to show how unsteady I felt.

  “Liz would have told you if you’d died,” I said.

  He took my hand, making the slightly wobbly world grind to a halt around me. “Do you want to come for a ride on my bike?”

  “Are you a better motorcyclist, yet?” I tried to joke but my heart was going mad.

  “Much better,” he said without a trace of laughter.

  “Okay.”