‘Especially after everything,’
Elle says. ‘We talk about it a lot while you’re outside, feeling the rain or
whatever.’
‘Well you should tell me,’ I
reply, staring intently at the lock. I never like to look at people when I
argue. ‘You’re my friends, I want to help.’
‘We know, Easton,’ Elle says. ‘We’ve
all been through a lot.’
I look at Elle when she looks
away. She opens her mouth a little as if she’s about to venture something, but
clearly thinks twice. I often wonder if she wants to keep looking for Penny the
same as me. She cares about me, I know that, Elle cares about everyone she
comes across and a thousand people she doesn’t, but I often find myself wondering.
Has she accepted that Penny’s lost, never to be found? I want to ask. I want to
know what she really thinks, but that’s a conversation for a braver man.
‘How do we get him out?’ I ask.
‘We have to just wait for him to
wake.’
‘We don’t have much time,’ I
say, agitated.
The door clicks. I swing it
open.
‘Who goes there?’ calls a voice.
We freeze and look around. The
voice comes from another cell further down the way.
‘Hello?’ Elle calls back.
‘Who goes there? Is anyone
there?’ The voice sounds old. She clearly can’t hear Elle’s words. ‘If you
demons some near me again…’ she starts. She loses conviction in his threats as
the words fall away.
We walk along the hall. I
imagine the echoes our footsteps would make if we were solid again. We peer
through the bars into the darkness. On the other side of the cell lies a woman.
Or what used to be one. Her hair is long and ragged, her nails inches long and
his clothes, what look like the remainder of an expensive suit, lies in tatters
on her shoulder.
‘Please let me go.’ She sounds
so tired, like every word is an effort. She knows each syllable is a wasted
plea. ‘Just let me die. Why can’t you people let me die?’
‘Easton,’
Elle says with a note of warning. ‘Close your eyes. This woman’s alive.’
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