Page 64 of Wild Fever
"If you're not going to celebrate your life now, when are you?”
38
Kara and I sat on the beach, the teal waves crashing against the white sand, the sun looming large above the horizon. The amber ball painted the sky in multiple pastel colors—orange, pink, and blue.
We sipped the bubbly from the beakers, our toes in the sand, trying to live in the moment.
"I’m not going to say this is the best sunset I've ever seen, but it's not bad," she said, then took another sip. Her full lips wrapped around the Pyrex.
"Don't give up just yet,” I said, trying to remain optimistic. “You'll see plenty more.”
"Don't write checks your ass can't cash, Deputy."
“It ain’t over till it’s over.”
She paused, staring out over the ocean. "Let's be real. Even if he finds something, do you really think he's going to be able to synthesize some kind of antidote in time?”
I shrugged. "I don't know. But what's the alternative? Give up? You don’t strike me as the kind of person who does that easily.”
Kara looked at me. "How much do you really know about me?”
"I read your file, remember?”
"Manipulative, emotionally detached, lethal. I'm surprised you agreed to help.”
“Maybe you're a good manipulator," I said.
She laughed. “They train us to be that way, you know? Stay disconnected. Don't get too close. Keep sight of the objective. Do this kind of thing long enough, and you start to justify all kinds of unacceptable behavior.” She paused. “Is that why you got out?”
“It’s a long story, but I prefer less ambiguous situations.”
“This is pretty ambiguous, don’t you think?”
"Let's just say this falls solidly in the gray.”
She chuckled. "That just might be the understatement of the year.” Kara took another sip of her champagne, then said, "I've done a lot of bad things. I've killed a lot of people. Never up close and personal. Always the cowardly way. Clean ops. A pill, a poison, long distance. I never had to look into their eyes. Never saw the moment where they realized this was the end. It's ironic to think that's how I'm going to go out. Somebody who doesn't even know me killed me. And they won't be around to see the fruits of their labor.”
"I'm not a priest. I can't absolve you.”
"I'm not looking for absolution. I'm not sure what I'm looking for. I'm not sure what I even believe anymore. I think whatterrifies me is that I’m going to close my eyes, and that’s it. Nothing. Just lights out. The big dirt nap.” She paused. “Sometimes I think hell would be better than nothing.”
“Trust me, that’s not a place you want to go.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You sound like you speak from experience."
“Let’s just say I died once. It was a profoundly moving experience.”
She laughed. “I would imagine so.”
“I got a second chance. Somehow I’m still here.” I shrugged. “It wasn’t my time. I had things to do. Lessons to learn.”
“What have you learned?”
“I’m still trying to figure it all out. But I was headed down the wrong path. I made a change. One that I hope has put me on the right path. I know I’m never going back to the wrong place,” I said with conviction. “It’s never too late to turn things around. Nothing is set in stone.”
“So, you’re saying there’s hope for someone like me?”
“If we lose hope, what do we have?”
