Page 171 of Not Quite Dead Yet

‘It’s OK,’ Jet said, voice weakening too, forcing it out. ‘I know, Billy. It wasn’t you. It’s OK, I don’t need it anymore.’

It wasn’t important.

‘But you did it, you solved –’

‘– Shut up, Billy,’ she whispered, reaching for his face, finger finding the dip of his chin.

‘OK,’ he whispered back, his tears falling down her cheeks too, closing the distance.

‘Billy,’ Jet said, while she still could. ‘There’s letters. In my pocket. For everyone.’

She blinked.

Everything slowed down.

‘Jet?’ Billy’s voice echoed above her. ‘Jet. You’re back.’

‘I’m here,’ she said. ‘The letters, Billy. You have to make sure everyone gets them. They’re in my – my –’

‘– They’re in your pocket, I know. I’ll make sure, I promise.’

Jet shifted, body peeling away from her, neck too stiff, made of metal not flesh. But she wanted to see his eyes.

‘Billy.’

‘I’m here.’

Here.

Right where they started.

No blood this time; it was all on the inside.

Billy holding her lifeless body. Again.

Nothing had changed.

Except.

Everything had changed.

She blinks.

‘Not yet, Jet,’ Billy is saying. ‘Not yet.’

‘I’m here.’ It’s her turn to say it.

‘I’ll finish this for you, Jet. I promise.’

He promises. He presses his warm hand to her face, strokes his thumb across, stealing her tears.

Jet lets him have them.

Blinks.

‘Come back, Jet, come back.’

She’s here. Opens her eyes.

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