Chapter Nine
Survivor's Guilt
The afternoon had actually been rather pleasant, despite the morning's unwelcome visitors. Sabrina had seemed willing to do anything to distract herself from Eugene and Harold's arrival. She and Ruby had prepared lunch together and watched a show on Ruby's TV. Ruby was glad to see that Sabrina was making an effort to be her normal self after being so cagey in the last week.
That didn't stop her from switching over to the news, though. After they had finished lunch and the show, Sabrina had switched it over and watched the news carefully. It was as depressing as usual, Ruby found. The third body in the Ripper-esque murder's had been found in Dorset; a little boy had gone missing in North Yorkshire; a pile-up not too far from London with one fatality and three serious injuries. It seemed like there was no good news now-a-days.
Ruby zoned out a little bit, curling herself into the sofa, allowing Sabrina the time to watch the news. Her attention only focused back on the TV when a picture of Bridge was broadcast next to a stoic-faced reporter.
"…Reports that he is in critical condition at the St. Thomas Hospital with third degree burns to the right side of his face. The full extent of these injuries are currently unknown. Bridge was recently involved in the tragedy at the Epsilon Concert Hall, which resulted in…"
The TV suddenly shut off, making Ruby jump. She faced Sabrina with a questioning look. But Sabrina had put the remote down and was looking at a small notebook that Ruby had never seen before. "Why wasn't it her…? Must have been avoided… Yes… Would it have been reported? It would have, I know it." She was scribbling something but quickly finished and tucked the notebook away in her shirt pocket.
"…Sabrina?"
"It's nothing." Sabrina shook her head at Ruby and stood up. "I'm going for a walk."
"A walk?"
"Yes." With that, Sabrina started walking towards the door but Ruby didn't want to leave it at that. She stood up herself.
"Sabrina, what aren't you telling me?"
"You told me you wouldn't ask again."
"This… accident with Bridge got you all worked up," Ruby gestured to the TV. She didn't feel much of anything about it – she learned when she was small not to worry too much about celebrities in hospital. They tended to be fine if their injuries were reported on TV.
"I'm going for a walk, Ruby. I'll be back in an hour or so," Sabrina didn't even look back at Ruby as she left the room. Ruby could only watch her back, concerned.
Trenton pulled his motorcycle outside the café, killing the engine and pulling his helmet off. He took a moment to gather his thoughts before stepping onto the pavement and looking up at the large blue sign that read 'The Writing Room.' It was a modern café that encouraged you to bring laptops or other such implements while you ate. It was relatively small and unknown but was slowly growing in popularity.
The café was unusual in that it was two floors. The ground floor was made up mostly of booths flat against the wall with the main serving area curving around a corner, selling homemade cakes, sandwiches, and drinks – both hot and cold. The second floor was made out more like a traditional restaurant, complete with dark green tablecloths and serviettes. There was even a balcony which seated two tables, looking over Chiltern Street.
Trenton rested his helmet on the bike and headed inside the café, letting the small bell chime through the homely room. He headed straight for the till towards a familiar red-headed middle-aged woman. "Hey, Kate,"
"Oh, hey Trenton! How are you?"
"I'm doing good, thank you. Is Meg available?"
"Meg? Yeah, she's upstairs." Kate frowned and leaned towards him. "Hey, are you two okay?"
"Hm? What do you mean?"
"She hasn't been… well, herself, recently. You two haven't had an argument have you?"
Trenton shook his head with a small smile. "Remember we aren't a couple, Kate, but no, we haven't had any kind of argument. She's still a bit shaken from last week."
"Hmm…" Kate nodded her head in understanding. "Tragic… Well, head on up and have a talk with her if you like. We got Ryan in today so he can cover the tables."
"Thank you," Trenton nodded his thanks and made his way to the stairs. This was the first time in the week that he had managed to come out here to talk to Meagan. He was hoping, being in this kind of territory, she'd be up for talking, as she had been unnaturally quiet back at home. He had been working when she had been working as well, so today was the prime time to see if she was ready to talk. Meagan really did love this café, Trenton knew.
He reached the top of the stairs and immediately located her in the dark blue t-shirt with 'The Writing Room' written in small flowing text. He watched as she served a table. Kate was right, Meagan didn't seem herself even here at the work she loved. She would usually talk to the customers and find out all sorts of fun stories. Now she quietly just filled up their drinks and turned with a sigh. Her eyes connected with Trenton's as she turned away and Trenton caught her frown before she forced a smile.
"Trent? What are you doing here?"
"Hey, Meg. Well, actually, I was kind of hoping we could talk?"
"…Here? I'm working, man, you know that. I can't just-"
"Kate said I can cover," a tanned young man suddenly said from behind Trent with a smile. "So no worries Meagan."
"Ryan…" Meagan nodded reluctantly. "Alright, Trent, let's go out back." Meagan quietly led him back downstairs and through the employees only door, which led into the kitchen. The two staff members looked at her and Trent with bemused expressions as they left through the fire escape, which some of the staff used to take a smoke break.
As soon as the door started to close, Trenton started to talk. He didn't want to give Meagan a chance to somehow worm her way out of this. "I'll get straight to it Meg… We need to talk. You haven't been yourself since Epsilon. You haven't wrote a thing, you haven't talked to me, you're not even enjoying yourself here… I'm worried, Meg. You can't just shut yourself out. We talk about problems, we always have."
"There's nothing to talk about, Trent, but thanks for your concern," Meagan smiled. "Really. I appreciate it."
"Come on, Meg, you know me better than that. You just aren't… you."
"I just need time, Trent. What do you want me to say? I barely escaped dying a week ago. I barely escaped not existing any more. Either of us existing any more."
"To be fair, we'd both still exist… People'd mourn us."
"Not helping," Meg fumed and for a moment Trent saw more of the Meg he knew there as she pouted. "The point is the concert hall was a harsh reminder that things are… temporary."
"Come on, Meg." Trent smiled warmly. "You know what I say about thoughts like that – there's no point to thinking them. Thinking about death is like thinking 'Why is the sky blue?' or 'Why do we need to pay taxes?' It just is and we just do, there's no point."
"Mmm… Those are very philosophical questions. Why is the sky blue, indeed." Meagan showed that smile again, which let go of some of the tension Trenton had in his shoulders. "Look, Trent, I'm sorry I haven't talked to you about it. I just… don't like talking about close calls to death. You know I had that phase in school where I just couldn't see the point."
"Mm," Trenton nodded. That had been a dark time for both of them. It took Trenton all his will to help guide Meagan through those feelings that made her feel so insignificant. Damn her mother all to hell for that one.
"But thank you… I guess… I guess I did need a little talk. I'm sorry for avoiding you. Best friends are great for talking to but… sometimes there's things that aren't great for talking about… like periods."
"Great…" Trenton smiled. "Just what I needed to think about."
"Heh," Meagan playfully punched his shoulder. "I'm feeling better already. I think we're due pizza for dinner today. Up for getting some?"
"Take-out or supermarket?"
"Duh, take-out."
"Meat or vegetables?"
"If you think I'm going to eat a pizza without meat I will throw you off our balcony." Meagan grinned. "I really ought to get back to work though before Kate thinks up some new rumours about us sleeping together. Thanks, Trent."
"No problem, Meg. Keep at it." Trent looked at her with a smile, glad to see she was showing the real side of herself. Meagan held the door open for him, allowing him to go through. She watched his back, her smile fading.
Why was is so damn hard to tell him the truth?
"Phew…. Come on, come on, you can do this, you can do this…" Corey muttered to himself, standing on the doorstep of the small house. "You've done this twice…"
Corey had been making the rounds of visiting his friend's homes. Knowing they were gone… it took Corey a lot to get through that. James… Gordon… Carl… They were his best friends. He had grown up with them and now… Corey shook his head.
He hadn't even known they were gone for a while. The police had more intense questions for him as he was accused of pulling the fire alarm. Eventually they found that no, he wasn't a terrorist, and no, he didn't have a history of arson. Once the reports came in about the malfunctioning lights and the old building, they had let him go with a warning not to go pulling any more fire alarms.
Corey had finally managed to gather his courage today, to make his way to the parents' homes. He wasn't sure what he expected to talk about but he had wanted to… say something. Do something. The three of them had helped him so much through school it would awful not to try.
If it hadn't been for James, Corey would have been bullied for his goofy looks, no doubt. Thankfully Corey had met James on the first day of school and got his friendship since then. The first bully who had made fun of Corey got a fist to the face from James and funnily enough no-one else decided to make Corey a target. The strong James, the cocky James, the confident James… Corey would never hear that arrogant laugh again and that hurt the most.
If it hadn't been for Gordon, Corey doubted he would have made it through the exams. Gordon was so smart, not only in schoolwork but in personal matters too. He knew just what to say and when to say it. If Corey had an issue with homework, no problem, Gordon would not only tell him the answers but explain them as well. If Corey had an issue with girls, Gordon had it covered. He would advise Corey in the best way to romance that particular kind of girl. Kind Gordon, smart Gordon, skilled Gordon… Never would that intelligent smile grace his face again.
If it hadn't been for Carl… Well, Carl hadn't really given Corey anything to go through life with but Carl was probably the most friend-like of the three. He was the one with the gadgets. The one with the gaming consoles, the one who hosted the bad-ass rounds on Mario Kart, or the intense matches of Mortal Kombat, or the strategic gameplay of Command and Conquer. It wasn't only video games – Corey and James had witnessed one of the most intense games of Chess between Gordon and Carl that had them on the edge of their seats. The fact that Carl had actually made Chess interesting was unbelievable. But no more. No more would Carl be able to tell him what cheat codes to use in a game, or what walkthrough to use, or what hidden paths could be found…
Corey squeezed his eyes shut and forced himself to take a long breath in and then out. It was Carl's father's home that he was standing outside right now. He had already visited both Gordon's parents and James' parents and neither had gone well.
Gordon's parents had been respectful enough but firm. They needed time alone in their grief. They recognised that Corey was a good friend but they just weren't able to talk to him in this time of mourning. They had promised to call him later, though.
James' parent's, on the other hand… He hadn't even seen the mother. His father, though, a notorious drunk, had already had far too much to drink. He was practically falling over but had slipping into a rage upon seeing Corey. He had screamed that it was all Corey's fault and had roared bloody murder. Corey had barely avoided the fist that had flew his way and had to actually run off the property.
Hopefully it would go a little bit better here at Carl's.
The door opened and Carl's father, Graham, stood on the porch. The older man looked worn out but still showed strength. Corey supposed he shouldn't be surprised since his wife had died early on in Carl's life. It was another death close to home, though, and it showed.
"Corey Walker…" Graham smiled softly.
"Mr. Gretsch. I… I just wanted to visit… I… I wanted to apologise from the bottom of my heart about what happened to Carl."
Graham took a breath. "Thank you, Corey. But there isn't anything to apologise for. It wasn't your fault. It was just a… just another accident."
"If there is anything I can do-"
"I appreciate the sentiment but there isn't anything you can do for me, Corey. Carl is with Lyla now. Perhaps it's time for me to join them but… that isn't what they would want. Please… I need time to be alone. It's still… raw… in my heart. But thank you for coming. I know Carl appreciated you. You and the other two really helped him through school."
"He helped us, Mr. Gretsch. Honestly."
"I'm glad to hear that. I'll… see you later, Corey. Thank you, again." With that, Graham gently closed the door. Corey sighed. It could have gone better but at least he hadn't been running through the lawn.
It was so rough to see how the deaths of his friends had affected those that they knew. Corey knew that life would never be the same without them. He couldn't think negative, though, he couldn't. He knew exactly what they would say:
"Don't beat yourself up man, shit happens. That's life for ya," James would say with that grin. "Look on the bright side – you haven't got me to stop you for going after my sister! Though I will haunt you forever if you even look at her!"
"It's actually a good thing to experience death so young. It'll help you in the future when the inevitable happens to those that you love. It may be very hard for you now, Corey, but it'll make you a stronger man," Gordon would say with a reassuring hand on his shoulder.
"We always wondered who would outlive the others," Carl would say while tapping away on his phone. "We just assumed it would be when we were in our eighties sitting around a coffee table laughing at stories of our grandchildren. So, congrats."
The hard thing was that Corey knew that was exactly what they would say. There would be no blame, no regret, nothing. They would want Corey to go on and Corey hated that. Why did he have to the one to survive? He wasn't smart like Carl, wasn't skilled like Gordon, wasn't confident like James… He was just… just a what? Just a joker, that's what he was.
Corey felt these feelings on his shoulder and had to sit down on the curb outside of Carl's house. He pulled his beanie down over his eyes, clutching the fabric tightly between his fingers. "I'm… I'm so sorry, guys… I'm sorry…"
He could almost feel them standing around him, with sad gazes. Their stares weighed down on his shoulders and head, forcing it between his knees. Drops splashed against the tarmac and Corey lost control. All that grief, all that pain; it welled up within his heart and forced itself out as he sobbed through his fingers.
All alone, Corey had only one question running through his head:
Why did he have to the one to survive?
