“Thank you,” she said, her breathing laboured. “I’m sorry. About your car. I hope I didn’t hurt you.”
“Don’t be sorry. We’re not hurt. What’s your name?” I asked.
Her eyes shone with tears, and when she inhaled, a wheeze carried through the open window. “Brynn.”
We were the last people who’d ever know her name.
“We need to get out of here,” Tim said.
“I know, I know.”
She fell into another coughing fit, and I backed out of range, hoping to God my mask was doing the job the endless government commercials had convinced us it would.
When the noise stopped, she slumped against the steering wheel, spent.
Walking away from someone in need went against everything I believed, but based on all I’d seen and heard about Ultimus, she wouldn’t live to see the next hour.
In her current state, that might be a blessing.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Tim said, “but we’ve been exposed for too long. There’s nothing we can do.”
I pressed my lips into a firm line. She’d either fallen asleep or unconscious. I couldn’t tell which one. With her head turned toward me, her features were relaxed and peaceful now she no longer had to struggle with the full-body effort of coughing.It was the most serene I’d seen her in the short time we’d known her.
“I’ll remember you, Brynn.” I patted the roof of her car, then turned away and filled my lungs with air. I had a text to read and a phone call to make. “Let’s go home,” I said to Tim.
“Now you’re making sense.”
I’d just taken a step toward my damaged car when a cyclist whizzed by. There was no warning, no sound. One second we were alone, and the next, he wasright there.
Just as surprised as me, the rider snapped out a curse and tried to swerve, but it was too late.
I didn’t have time to dodge him or make any decision at all.
Tim called out my name.
The cyclist sideswiped me and sent me tumbling onto the road. My head hit the unforgiving surface with a thud, and I let out anoof,too shocked to feel anything, let alone pain.
Stunned, I tried to rise, but the world around me spun, creating a confusion of colours that swiftly narrowed to a pinprick.
A breath stuttered from me, and I lowered my head.
Seconds later, there was nothing at all.
Ten
theo
Istood alone in my usual spot beside the boundary wall, doing intermittent checks for Sadie’s car while coverage of the protest played on TV.
We were ten kilometres from the city centre, so any trouble wouldn’t touch her and Tim, but a shitload of people had turned up to share their anger at the government.
The clouds were almost black, the mood agitated. Most of the crowd wore masks and bandanas, but some had chosen full face helmets and other more creative forms of protection. The mass swirled around the front of the State Library, waiting for a man holding a bullhorn to give them the green light to move.
“This isn’t going to end well,” I muttered. The skeleton crew of police wouldn’t have a chance in hell of controlling the situation if it exploded.
“Theeooo.” Ellie’s voice rose from the street below.
I leaned over the wall and spotted her walking along the footpath with Owen, both wearing masks and carrying plasticbags from the service station down the block. She waved, her ponytail swinging in time with her steps.
