Ellis must have sensed his power. He smiled.
“Oh, don’t worry. I’ll tell her you died quickly and with honor. I won’t give her the gruesome details. I’ll visit her in person, hold her hand while she cries…eat some more of those damn fine cookies…”
That crossed the line. Alex met Ellis’s eyes squarely for the first time.
He was done listening.
“You really think you’re a victim, Ellis?” His voice was still croaky from the smoke. “We all have shit to deal with. When I was growing up, my dad drank. A few years ago, he lost his job and was so down about it, he’d get high and then come home and take it out on my mom and me. One time, he was ragging on me…my mom tried to stop him, and he beat her so badly, she nearly died. He got a five-year sentence, but my mom…she was never the same again. It broke something in her, and she left. My abuela took me in but is too sick to work and can’t afford to look after us. I work three part-time jobs to pay for our food and rent, and even then, sometimes it’s not enough. But you know what? You were right about one thing. It is a real home. A shit one, but a real one, because I love my abuela, I love my mom, wherever she is…and, god help me, I love my dad—even though I would giveanythingnot to.”
Tears of frustration filled his eyes. He could hearthatsong playing in his head, all the anger, the rage and desperate frustration. Look wherethat had got him. Too much pain in the world. Too much hurt. You could only do your best. Grace.
His next words were quiet, almost whispered.
“I get so angry sometimes.So angry.But I can’t choose what my dad did, or my mom. I can’t control what happened to my family, but I can choose not to be bitter. I can do that. That’s my choice. Sometimes, that’s all I have. So, you want to sit here and have a pity party—you go right ahead. No one cares about you, Ellis, because you don’t care about anyone else. If you don’t have a real home, it’s because you never made one. Don’t you see? Living with all the anger, surviving by any means necessary, doing the things you’ve done…that’s not strength. It’s not how long you live that matters—it’showyou live. It’s what you do with the time that’s given to you, however short.”
He’d said his piece. He was done.
He looked back out across the line, away from Ellis, away from the Motel Loba. A deep feeling of heaviness settled over him. Exhaustion. If he could just close his eyes and let this play out. Once and for all.
“Nicely played.” Ellis’s voice cut into Alex’s thoughts. “You almost had me. Right up until the end.” Ellis stood abruptly and walked over to the death machine, swinging his long legs over the top. “I’d never pegged you as a manipulator, Alex. Always thought you were a bit clueless to be honest. But that speech—that was masterful. Do the right thing, Ellis. Make good choices, Ellis. Did you think that would make me change my mind? That I would do what? Spare you? Sacrifice myself? Die with honor? Fuck that.”
Ellis’s hand was back on the wheel. His fingers twitching restlessly.
“You see, the problem with your lovely speech is…I can’t do the right thing, or make a cookie-filled home, or even make my dear father love me if I’m dead, now, can I?”
Alex didn’t bother turning to look at him. He locked his eyes on the horizon.
“Whatever, Ellis. Do what you have to do. Tell yourself what you have to hear. Let’s get this over with.” He closed his eyes. “Just do it.”
The longer this took, the harder it was. Thoughts kept sneaking into his head, messing with him. Little chinks of hope or memories, pieces of who he was, kept rising up. Fear of dying, of ending like this, tore at him. He didn’t want to die. He wanted to live. Desperately. He knew that as surely as he knew anything in this moment. But he couldn’t make that choice. He could only choose grace.
Hold on to yourself. Hold on to your truth.He had to. It was all he had left.
He listened for the sound of the wheel turning, a gentle creak as the rope extended and started to pull. But there was nothing. Still nothing.
“Just do it, Ellis.”
Any second now. The wheel would start. He felt the sun on his face, one last time. He breathed in the cooling air, the salty desert wind. If he licked his lips, he could almost taste it. One last time.
Still nothing.
What was Ellis waiting for? What?
Why wasn’t he dead yet? It didn’t make any sense. He was the last. After he crossed the line, the game would be over. Ellis would be free to go. The victor. There was no reason to stretch this out. No reason to keep it going. Unless…
Alex suddenly laughed.
“I’m so stupid. Of course, it’s obvious, isn’t it?” He shook his head. Why had it taken him so long to figure this out? “You can’t kill me yet, can you? There’s a reason why I’m still alive. The game isn’t over when I cross the line because I’m not the last one…” Alex paused here. Could he say it aloud? Did he dare? “She’s not dead…is she? Ana’s still alive…”
“I don’t know,” Ellis said quietly.
The way he said it—Alex believed him.
“You didn’t find a body. You didn’t find Ana.” Alex’s mind was racing. “Jesus, she made it! She figured out the code and made it into the bunker. She’s alive!” He started laughing so hard he broke into a fit of coughing. He didn’t care. There was still a chance. Still hope.
“I said,I don’t fucking know. She probably burned to a crisp in the fire. Just because I didn’t find a body, doesn’t mean she’s not dead.” Ellis jumped to his feet and kicked at the dirt. He looked furious.
Alex was still laughing. He knew Ana. If there was no body, then she was still alive. She was too smart to die like that. He had to believe that, to believe in her.
