‘Try what again? You’ve
butchered my equipment.’
‘My friend knocked one of them
together in about fifteen minutes,’ I reply. ‘I’m sure you’ll manage.’
‘What your friend knocked together was a way to make the
dead visible to the living, that’s child’s play compared to what my device
could do.’
I turn to him, still gripping
his arm. ‘But still, you built one before, you can build one again, this time
preferably without the surprising side effect of turning yourself into an atom
bomb.’
He scoffs. ‘You’re exaggerating
a bit there. My little mishap would have destroyed the house at worst.’
I move away from him, not even dignifying
his response with a reply. He won’t try and run, I’m not even sure he knows
how. Right now he’s trapped as a ghost, just like the rest of us.
I enter the living room and find
it deserted. I cast around for a second, at a loss for what to do.
Think, where would they go?
‘Oh surprise, surprise,’ Teague
says, sauntering into the room. I wonder does he know how to travel, could he
leave if he wanted to. I know if I leave him he’ll just follow me. It’s like
he’s an extremely clever bad penny. ‘Friends abandoned you, they always do.’
‘Oh great, a sob story, you
might as well start singing. I’ll provide the violin.’
Teague twists his face into mock
laughter, aimed in my direction. People say that maths and science are the
universal language, I’m beginning to think it’s sarcasm.
What were we talking about
before I touched the scorch-mark?
‘Think of the possibility,
Easton, please,’ he says. ‘What if letting go meant something more than you
could possibly imagine?’
‘I can imagine quite a lot, I’m
good like that.’
‘Unlimited knowledge,
understand, a way with the world!’ He sounds like a zealot, peddling his
fanaticism on a doorstep.
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