“Hey Munchkin”. Only she could get away with murder, calling Isaac that. He loved her more than living. Aya made him feel alive and human. Made him forget the killer that he was…is.
She put a hand to her stomach, smiling nervously, dancing pupils. “I think we’re a family now”.
Heartbeats crashed into his ribs like waves in a storm. He’d wanted this for so long, but not like this. Not with what had been done, what still needed to be done.
Aya looked at him with hurt open eyes, waiting for something. Anything.
Dread. All he felt was dread.
Mr. C wasn’t sure he had a heart, he ditched his organics centuries ago, but he could feel it beating now as he trembled on his knees.
Whatever she was now, stood behind him, dressed in white. Thunder. 'She' shot a hole into the ground. It went deep, and he could see…faces…flames.
“I-I know you”.
“Don’t say my name unless you know the price of it” she said.
He didn’t want to, but he could feel the word climbing out his throat. “Death”
Mr. C felt the boot on his back. The fall into hell was a long one.
The cold metal ring against her neck made her tremble. She knew at the other end of it was a trigger and a killer.
Eve understood she should be terrified. This is the man who killed her mother, broke her father. This is the man that made her whole life an endless, insufferable today.
“I have waited a long time for this girl”, said Mr C.
Eve bellowed out a chesty laugh, “Haven’t we all”.
In an instant, Eve snatched the ring from her necklace, and placed it on her finger. Transformed, she held a pistol to Mr. C’s head.
Outside these walls the sun never sets. Swinging back and forth through thin ashy clouds like a thrubile in church. Whose hand is on the chain, holding up the sun, Isaac could not say for sure.
It’s narrow cast shadows flicker on the surrounding desert like a candle against a wall. It’s unforgiving heat burning the sins of countless yesterdays. To Isaac, this whole world felt like a church undone.
In this last city, out of reach of the sun and it’s holder, we hadn’t learned our lessons. Confession was the last thing on anyone's mind here.
Except Isaac’s…Except Isaac.
Isaac thought he knew.
The certainty of currency. The sureness of a coin. It's a weight in his palm. A familiar face. A tail to balance debts. The grooves on it’s thin side were always there to rub in his jean pocket when hard words and hard times were coming.
Watching it spin in the air made him want to die.
In that moment, as it spun, and fell towards his hand, Isaac was sure he could feel time moving through him. He wanted to reach out, touch it, but Isaac knew the moment had passed.
What’s in a coin?