Page 37 of The Inheritance
“Anyway, I tell him what I saw on my phone.”
That conversation was branded into my memory. I could recite it word by word and in an instant I was right there, back on that porch, with the night encroaching onto the city and the blaze of orange in the distance, where Target was still burning hours later.
“They are saying that the anomalies are gates that lead to some other world or dimension. There are twelve gates in the US. Our outbreak is fifteen percent contained. They think they’ll have it under control in forty-eight hours.”
“Nothing is under control.” His voice was almost a snarl.
I reached out to take his hand.
He shifted away.
“I’m so sorry,” I said. “I don’t know what happened, I don’t know what you saw, but I’m so sorry.”
“I took 90 home,” he said. “The traffic stopped. Everything stopped. And then the things came. They went after the ones who got out of their cars first. Then they figured out that we were in the cars. I saw them rip a man apart right in front of me. They threw him on my car. His guts fell out of his body onto the glass. His intestines were sliding on the windshield, and he was still alive. I just sat there and watched him die.”
Roger stabbed the cigarette out on the step, crushing it.
“I sat there like that for three hours, waiting for them to find me. I didn’t know if you and the kids were dead or alive. I didn’t know if you made it home or if you were stuck like me. And the whole time I had this voice in the back of my head telling me that I needed to get the fuck out and take care of my wife and kids. I needed to nut up, get out of the car, and go find you.”
Oh my God. “You made it home. That’s all we wanted.”
He didn’t look like he heard a word I said.
“And then I thought, what if you were already dead? What if I never found you? And you know what I felt?”
I couldn’t tell if he wanted an answer. “No.”
He looked at me, and his eyes seemed feverish. “I felt relief.”
“What?”
“I felt relief. A burden lifted.”
The hair on the back of my neck rose. “You don’t mean that.”
“I do. Adaline, why would I lie about this now?”
I stared at him, stunned. What do I do with this? How do I fix it?
“The world is ending. This right here…” He held his hands out and circled the street. “This is done. It’s over. It’s over for all of us.”
“I think you’re still in shock.”
“Maybe. But I see things very clearly now. We are living on borrowed time. There will be more of these holes. They’re not just going to give up. We can’t beat them. I don’t know how much time we have left. Six months, a year, a week. Nobody knows.”
I’d gone strangely numb. A part of me knew he was talking and making words, but none of the sounds made any sense.
“I’m going to live whatever time I have left on my own terms. Doing what I want.”
He fell silent and looked at me. This was the part where I had to say something.
My voice came out wooden. I was so calm, and I had no idea why. “And what is it you want, Roger?”
“Not this.”
“Ah.”
“Not anymore.”
