Page 111 of White Noise

I stand on the sidewalk for a second because I genuinely forgot what it felt like to leave somewhere without Silas allowing it.

I got out.

The thought puts a stupid smile on my face.

Then I start walking.

I buy a paper subway map with cash, which earns me a look from the guy behind the counter, but I would rather look technologically illiterate than carry anything Silas can use.

I take the subway downtown, switch lines once, get off somewhere I didn’t originally plan to, and walk until the ache in my legs starts distracting me from how often I’m checking every screen I pass.

At first, I expect him everywhere.

Security monitors.

Phones.

Digital menus.

Screens inside taxis.

Advertisements glowing above storefronts.

Every one of them makes my stomach tighten, but none of them change.

A convenience store monitor shows four grainy camera feeds and nothing else. A woman beside me scrolls through videos on her phone without a flicker of static.

The display inside the subway keeps announcing the correct stops instead of telling me I belong to a fucking monster.

The farther I get from home, the easier breathing becomes.

That scares me too, because hope has already made me stupid once.

Still, I let a little of it in.

Maybe distance matters.

Maybe the condo was part of whatever connection Silas built around me. Maybe the devices there gave him enough access to keep reaching through, and getting outside finally put something between us.

There is only one way to know.

If I’m going to test whether he needs screens, I might as well do it somewhere drowning in them.

Times Square is the dumbest possible destination.

Which makes it perfect.

By the time I reach it, screens cover everything. Entire buildings glow with advertisements. News tickers crawl across signs.

Tourists hold phones over their heads while traffic displays flash above the street and videos thirty feet tall roll across the sides of buildings.

If Silas can use anything near me, this place should make him fucking unstoppable.

I walk straight into the middle of it.

Nothing happens.

I slow down.