Page 157 of Gone Before Goodbye
Two days later, Charles Lockwood calls her. “Oleg is in a coma. But that heart is still beating in his chest.”
BEAT… BEAT… BEAT…
“Thanks for letting me know.”
“Also The Vineyard—the whole operation—has been shut down.”
“Good.”
“No great loss,” Charles says. “Oleg never kept the best scientists and researchers in the end. The best scientists and researchers may complain about the rules and protocols, but they understand why they’re there. They want to work in the sunlight, not cut corners in the dark. That’s the part Oleg never understood.”
“I appreciate the call,” Maggie says. “Take care of yourself, Charles.”
“Let’s stay in touch,” he says.
“Yeah, I don’t think so,” she replies, but he’s already ended the call.
Maggie’s phone rings again. The caller ID tells her it’s the payphone at Vipers.
“Porkchop is back,” Pinky says.
“I’ll come up tomorrow.”
She disconnects the call and steps outside into the crisp night air. She takes a deep breath. This time of the year, the neighborhood always smells of freshly cut grass and backyard barbecues. The Burroughs family—Mom, Dad, Son, Daughter—sit on their front lawn. They all wave at Maggie. Maggie forces up a smile and waves back. Someone across the street is blasting a surprisingly touching Nick Cave ballad. His voice is raw and vulnerable as he repeatedly reminds a loved one that he’s waiting for them.
Maggie blinks, swallows, and lifts her phone into view. With a shaking finger, she clicks on the griefbot icon. The app comes to life.
Marc’s face appears. He smiles at her.
“Oh man, Mags, it’s good to see you.”
She stares at the screen. Nick Cave is singing to that same lovedone to sleep now, sleep now, take as long as you need. Maggie closes her eyes and makes herself listen to the rest of the lyrics. When the song is over, she takes one last deep breath and heads back inside. When she enters the kitchen, Sharon looks up at her.
“We need to delete this,” Maggie says, pointing at the app. “For good.”
The train pulls into Penn Station.
Pinky waits for her out on 33rd Street. They drive in silence to Vipers for Bikers. It’s closed. Pinky unlocks the door and lets her in. And there, pacing in the room alone, is Porkchop. No Zen-like patience today. He doesn’t have his sunglasses on. He turns and looks at her with shattered eyes.
“You told Pinky you know,” he says.
Maggie nods.
“Tell me.”
“I saw your passport.”
Porkchop takes a deep breath. “When?”
“Right before Nadia showed up.”
They both stop.
Nadia.
“I had to let her go,” Porkchop says.
“I know.”
