Charlie Huston - Every Last Drop

— And I don't ever want to die. I want to live forever, Joe. And I never want to be scared like that again.

She holds the cup in front of my face. -And if this is what it takes, well, I swore I'd do anything.

She lets go of my face and rises.

I look at the pack of smokes I've crushed in my hand. I tear it open and pick a broken Lucky from the shreds. I put it between my lips. Take it out. Put it back. And take it out again. -I didn't know.

She leans into the wall of books, presses her face into them. -Joe. Why would you? How could you? If It's crazy for me to feel stupid for not knowing what you are, it's just as crazy for you to feel shitty for not knowing I'd want to be the same thing if it could save me. Its stupid. It's all crazy and stupid.

She looks at me. -And it could get worse.

She splays her hands over several of the books. -He had doubts, you know. He had doubts about what the Vyrus is. He had

doubts about it all. And he was starting to think, toward the end, he was starting to think that the world didn't need to be remade in the image of the Vyrus, made so there are only Enclave. He had doubts. But that asshole. He's taking what Daniel believed, what was passed down for so long, and he's making it ugly and mean and dangerous.

I shake my head. -You never met Daniel. You don't know what dangerous is.

She pulls one of the books down and opens it. -He wanted a crusade. Of some kind. I know that. But he had doubts.

I get up. -Baby, we should really.

She snaps the book closed.

— The Count, he doesn't have a doubt in his empty head. He's narrow and spoiled and, Joe, he's such a prick. And he's halfway to sending those fanatics of his into the streets to start it. All he needs is something to tilt out of balance and he'll do it. Then what? People will be killed. And this place.

She holds out her arms. -It'll be destroyed.

She slides the book back onto the shelf.

— I don't want it destroyed. I don't want people killed. I don't want my friends here killed. I don't want to be killed, Joe.

She faces me. -I just came back to life. I don't want to die.

She folds her arms.

— And some of them, they believe in me. Because I was the last Enclave Daniel found, they think I'm special. And because I fasted so long. And because I'm so fucking tough. Because I am tough. I can fast longer than anyone in here. I can take the pain. I can take the cravings and the cramps. I can go deep into the Vyrus and let it deep into me before I have to feed again. So thanks, AIDS and chemo, thanks for teaching me how to be tough. Because of that, there are enough Enclave who believe in me so that the Count cant just start a holy war whenever he wants.

I nod, shake my head, nod. I look up and down.

— Baby, that, all that, it doesn't. Matter anymore. What the Count wants, what these fuckers are all trying to get, power, whatever, it doesn't matter anymore. It's all going to hell no matter what they do now. And.

I look at her, I try to cross the room to her.

And stay where I am.

— I could. I don't know. If I had a chance, the things I did, or didn't do, I could make it up to you. I could. I want. Just.

I reach. -Just come with me. Just. Now. Come with me.

A sound comes out of her, the kind of sound she made when she was dying in the hospital.

— Years. Years of my life. Years while I was dying. I spent them with you. And you, you weren't who you said you were. You weren't what you said you were. You. You. You.

Tendons jump in her neck.

— The rest of it. I could go! This place, I could leave this place. This life, I could live it with you. I could.

She grits her teeth. -But you lied to me so much.

Drops are falling around her feet. -I know what you are now.

Her fists clench, and a whiter shade shows at her knuckles.

— But I don't know who you are.

She points at the floor. -Goddamn you, Joe Pitt. Goddamn you.

She charges me, slamming me into the wall, books raining down around us. -Goddamn you, I don't know who you are.

I could say I struggle with that one, but it's not really a struggle. When there's only one thing to say, you just say it. -Baby, I'm just the guy who loves you. Same as always.

She closes her eyes, leans her forehead against my chest, my heart stops beating. -Well that counts for something, Joe.

She opens her eyes and looks up at me. -But not enough.

She pushes away. -Not now.

She kneels and starts to pick up the books. -You better go.

I watch her, sorting the books, finding their places on the shelves, reordering Daniels thoughts.

I think about the streets.

Piled high with bodies.

Back rooms crammed with them. Trucks hauling away the dead. I think about Coalition and Society and Hood and Cure at one another's throats. I think about it spreading to Brooklyn and the Bronx. I think about hunting parties of Van Helsings drawn by the chaos. And then organized hunting parities of soldiers and police.

I think about the future.

You cant hide from it. Dig a hole of your own, climb in, pull the dirt in over you, and the future will burrow up beneath you and pull you deeper.

You can't hide from the future.

But like most everything else, if you hate it enough, you can kill it.

And I hate it plenty right now.

I take off my jacket and go through the pockets, moving my few possessions to my pants. -Yeah, I got to go.

She doesn't look away from the books. -Yeah.

I hold out the jacket, the one she gave me on a fake birthday years ago. -Hang onto this for me?

She looks at it. -Seen better days.

I snap my Zippo open. -I still like it.

She takes the jacket from me.

I light up. -And I'll be back to get it.

She shakes her head. -Joe, you shouldn't bother.

I blow smoke. -Baby, you don't want me now, III go. But I'm coming back.

She shakes her head again.

Smoke gets in my eye, blinding me for an instant. -Evie. I started a war so I could see you.

I rub the smoke from my eye. -You being pissed at me Isn't gonna keep me away.

She almost smiles. But doesn't, not really.

Instead she tears some of the lining from inside the jacket. -Come here.

I go there.

She reaches up and ties the strip of black cloth so that it covers my dead eye.

— Now, go Arrghh. -Arrghh.

She nods. -There. You're a pirate.

And she kisses me.

Bitter.

But a kiss all the same.

— Whoa, whoa, that's it, you're just walking out?

I stop walking out and look at the Count. -You want to make something of it, now s the time.

He points up at the lofts.

— After all the time you spent up there with her nibs, I thought you might have got her to see some realities.

I look up there. -She sees the realities.

I shrug. -She just doesn't like them.

He frowns. -Then why doesn't she just get out?

I adjust the patch she put over my dead eye.

— Near as I can figure it, she thinks you're a psycho and she wants to stick around to make sure you don't do anything too fucked up.

He flexes his toes. One of the bones jutting from his bad foot scrapes the concrete floor.

— Make sure I don't do anything too fucked up. Bitch is begging to see some fucked-up shit she don't get out of my face in here.

I look at that ruined foot. -Know what I think every time I see you, Count?

He puts his hands on his hips. -What's that?

I scratch my head.

— I think to myself, Why the hell haven’t I killed this asshole already? And then I remember, Oh yeah, there's no rush, I can always do It another time.

He nods, cocks his head, cups a hand to his ear. -Hear that? You hear that, man? That ticking sound? Know what that is?

He takes his hand from his ear and starts swinging it back and forth like a metronome. -That's your time running out.