Chapter 35:
Still Alive
Reagan volunteered to drive me, while Loraine and Pepper went to interrogate the Shard Sisters and Litenant Miller.
The car trip was silent and cold. Above the city's dark crown, glints of the moon shot upon us. Like the blade of a knife, the sharp, sweet sadness gutted me again as I mourned Nahlah, yet loathed Tony. Next to me, Reagan never looked at me.
After a while, she finally whispered, ". . . What happened . . .?"
"Shouldn't I ask you that?"
Reagan refused to look at me, eyes stringently and firmly on the road. ". . . Reports of the explosion reached us the ten minutes since it went off. We got there, found Tony's half-burnt body, and you nowhere to be reported seen. Patrol cops who survived or witnessed the events that occurred recalled the attempts to shoot down Runners that infiltrated their security. So, we knew instantly that it was a Runner's fault. For Tony's death, and what we assumed was your death . . ."
"Did you search for me?" I whispered coolly.
". . . Of course . . ."
"You shouldn't have."
Reagan still didn't look at me, while I wearily analyzed her tight expression.
". . . I understand your loss," murmured Reagan, who said it carefully and slowly as if ready to defend against my pounce of agony. ". . . I'm sorry. I truly am. Tony was . . . our friend."
I said nothing.
". . . We'll get those bastards, those Runners," said Reagan through gritted teeth, voice unusually low. ". . . When we do, I'll let you take up the burden of revenge."
Her strangely consoling words nurtured this blossoming thirst for vengeance inside me. Yet, I didn't reply.
When we got there, Reagan locked the door behind us and shut all curtains and doors. Next, she gestured me to follow her to Tony's bedroom, where she pulled out a drawer and took out a laptop. We sat at Tony's dining table as she typed away and gained access to his desktop. There, it took her a while to surf through folders and other files, but then she finally presented me a solitary file within a folder labeled "Cell Phone".
My heart cringed repugnantly: Tony's brief, absurd nickname for me.
Reagan said, "After Tony's death, we made it highly significant that his cause of death and everything before his death was examined. There was something wrong about when, where, and how he died. I got a hacker to break his password and found this file. I didn't mention it to the others, though."
Shit. Nahlah . . .!
Before I could do anything, Reagan clicked. Pictures of Nahlah and everything about her popped up. But just before my heart could explode from dread, Reagan slid the heavy laptop in front of me. Aghast, I stared from her to the laptop.
"All I know is that this Runner—that 'Nahlah' from Spa&Soul—takes full responsibility for his death. Her death for his. 'An eye for an eye' . . ." murmured Reagan, holding my gaze as if gratefully and respectfully sharing a burden with me. "I didn't read anything else. I had a feeling you were alive."
"Not really," I murmured, staring at all the countless pictures of Nahlah.
After a long pause of absorbing every detail, every wave of her hair, every cock of her hip, arch of her eyebrow, every awkward smile of Nahlah, I whispered: ". . . Can you leave me?"
Reagan looked at me, then silently got up and left. I heard the main door click softly, leaving me in peace, as I cried and cried over Nahlah's face.
--
I printed only the more focused photos of Nahlah out of Tony's printer, while deciding to take his laptop for "research behind his death". By the time I mournfully folded and stuffed Nahlah's photos into my pockets, Reagan hurried in.
"C'mon," she ordered carefully yet swiftly, "Pep called. We found Faith Connors."
I looked at her. I couldn't belive my ears. You'd think Faith have left the city, but she was still here. Now that my head was fresher, I regretted not asking Miku and Miho about the whereabouts of Faith Connors. But that was back when I didn't care about anything. Even back then I didn't care about Faith. Long after I betrayed her, I had no intentions of knowing anything about her, for she was the past I wanted to leave behind, the past of my Runner life.
Reagan silently looked at Tony's laptop in my grasp, then led me out to her car. We drove off toward the Shard, which was nearly done to restoration. Things were happening so fast. Black Necks, police cars, helicopters, SWAT teams, and protesting crowds were crowding the streets. It was so late at night, nearly midnight. I couldn't believe I quickly transitioned from being in the world of Nahlah to this world of pursuits, crime, justice, injustice, and darkness.
The city was loud and suffocating, like an enclosing sphere around me. My surroundings were densed with authority and civilians alike.
"Save the Runners!" roared the protestors, who pushed against the defensive lines of Blues, Black Necks, and SWAT backup.
"Why the protests so late at night?" I asked Loraine.
Loraine looked at me, this strange, triumphant, yet respectful glint in her eyes. "You've been gone for so long, Celeste. Since the arrest of the Shard Sisters, there are only two Runners left. A 6 foot 17-year-old African boy named Ethan Boushard, and Faith Connors."
My eyes widened slightly. The news were certainly exciting. I took a look at Loraine's eyes as well as Reagan and Pepper's.
This was the moment they'd been waiting for. Their faces tensed with determination, yet calm anticipation.
"They have nowhere to go," said Reagan coolly, yet calmly. "This city is different, now. The last Runners are like immigrants in this new world."
"There's no way Faith or Ethan can run or hide," declared Pepper solemnly. She folded her arms, and inhaled. "After years and years, Project Icarus has finally met its triumphant deadline."
"I wouldn't be so sure," I told them sternly, folding my arms. I looked up at the Shard and the many rooftops the Runners could use surrounding it. "Running is what they do best. It takes two or more Black Necks to take a Runner on. Pressing the masses on Faith will not bring her down, I thought I told you that."
"What? You have faith in her?" said Reagan, not meaning to jeer or be sarcastic. It was a mere question.
She looked at me in this way that made me knew a separate message she tried to convey: she and I were the only ones who knew about Nahlah. But in truth, I was the only one who knew about Nahlah's existence as well as her nonexistence. And I knew she had nothing to do with tonight.
Tonight was a whole new life, torn and crippled like a page in a book.
I shook looked up at the dark sky. ". . . I want to go to bed. Let's finish this."
--
When a figure was spotted jumping rooftops five minutes from where we were, copters were sent after him. It was Ethan. The African's dark skin apparently allowed him to mingle with the darkness of the night and building shadows. His appearance sent the civilians in a loud, rebellious, yet praising applause.
Excited, a riot broke out.
"Celeste, let's go!" ordered Pepper.
The two of us followed the others as we entered a copter that was sent for us by Raine. Blues and SWAT protected us from the riots advancing toward all copters and police cars. From there, the copter dispatched us onto higher grounds with multiple other Black Necks. When we landed on the rooftop, all of us, fully dressed in our dark attires, stood behind Loraine.
"Project Icarus, initiate," commanded Loraine. "TAKE. DOWN. FAITH. CONNORS!"
We sprinted off on Loraine's command.
Below us, all forms of authority—SWAT teams and Blues—were overwhelmed by Runner supporters. It was a violent madness as blows were taken to the face on both sides. There was no shooting, surprisingly, but the protestors successfully overtook the Blues, stealing their guns or throwing them aside. However, the SWAT teams were harder to overtake, considering their heavy armor and weaponry. Civilians resistances were interrupted easily, but that didn't stop them from going around the SWAT, breaking windows of cars, lamps, and buildings of all sorts. Some rebels cheered, others roared, swaying the atmosphere of war in a new world.
--
I was back where I was.
Project Icarus.
All for Nahlah. All for nothing, now.
I had no choice but to live—to live the life that was Nahlah's, the life that she gave up for me, the life that was hers that was now mine. Live a dark, endlessly falling life, on the Edge—between what was life and death. For her sake, just like I promised her.
As I ran, feeling the wind against my face for the first time, seeing nothing but darkness and twinkles of light here and there, I realized I didn't like the idea. I didn't want to run solely for Project Icarus, I wanted to run for the Edge.
In my earpiece, I heard a Black Neck declare: "We have caught Ethan Boushard. Repeat, Ethan Boushard has been detained."
"Copy that," returned Loraine proudfully. "All PK units keep it sharp. Our top prioritory is now Faith Connors. Bring. Her. Down."
To keep Running, I didn't want that. I had been Running all my life, whether from love, to love, after a Runner, or from life. I didn't want to run anymore. Even if Project Icarus was over and that "peaceful, utopian" world was achieved, what would happen after that? Would bringing utopia to this city bring Nahlah back?
What good was all that to me when I didn't have Nahlah? I didn't have anyone to share a utopian world with.
A long search for Faith lasted for so long, I lost track of time. Darkness had engulfted time with its very presence. It had engulfed me. I couldn't see anymore; I couldn't taste, smell, feel, or hear anything worthy to live for, to run for.
I seemed to float as I suddenly found myself jumping off the Edge. And I jumped off the Edge again. And again. I stopped at the lowest rooftop, looking below me. The riots continued to tremble in the streets: I heard the beautiful, bell-like echo of breaking glass scattering everywhere; the cries of Blues being taken down by civilians fighting for the Runners; the ripping, addictive, sudden blasts of gunshots; the cry of sirens and civilians; the blur of the multiple copters reigning the dark skies.
Standing there on the Edge, I watched this "utopian" world bloom from the depths of darkness, knowing another new world would eventually reborn from the ashes. I just didn't want to know what kind of new world.
A door burst behind me. A group of random protestors, mostly men and a few women, pointed at me.
"There's a Black Neck! Get him!"
"Save the Runners!"
"Bastards!"
I turned around, standing there on the Edge, looking at their angry, pain-twisted faces. An awkward, bobbing mass of unknown faces aimed to kill me, charging.
And one of them pushed me.
Gravity pulled me so quickly and darkly, as if I was falling by a long black curtain: the flapping, quick scream of the wind whistled in my ears. I went limp, heart thudding, then holding its breath, waiting.
The worst pain I have ever physically felt bruised throughout my being like I had been boxed many life times. I felt crushed. That awful silence of pain took over, until I finally gasped out a choking cry of anguish. Pain weighed against me, ripping my bones and muscles apart, tearing through me as though I were cloth, sinking in slowly like a knife. I felt dead, yet in alive in my suffering.
I was still alive.
Underneath me, the earth moved; bones cracked, joints stabbed into my back and the nape of my neck; there was moaning. Choking and gasping shuddered below me.
Finally, the person rolled out from underneath me.
I rolled my head to the side, looking up at a blurry portrait of a dark silhouette.
Finally, after struggling to get up against a wall, she looked over her shoulders at me, trembling from the pain I gave her for landing on her.
My mind swayed.
. . . Nahlah . . .!?
"NAHLAH!" I gasped loud and clear, tears choking me.
I threw my protective mask off, sat right up, and gawked.
Then, she kicked me in the side. I gasped, as if holding the pain, as if hoping if I held my breath I wouldn't feel it. As I lay there, clutching my stomach, she towered over me in panicked pants.
". . . You . . ." she began, breath shuddering in total repugnance.
That wasn't Nahlah.
I gasped, ". . . Faith—ack—?"
Faith stood up, a blast of city lights exposing half her face. There was the familiar tattoo and solemn, iron frown. I was still gasping from the pain, grunting to hold my cries in.
"How'd you . . . what'd you do to NAHLAH!?" she growled, alto voice gradually raising.
She glared at me, darkening the eye tattoo. Standing closer, she peered right over me; I noticed through my painful state that her hair had grown slightly longer. As the painful minutes passed, I couldn't say anything. I just waited. For anything. For another kick, Nahlah, or even death.
Then, Faith stepped backwards and sunk into the darkness.
She didn't kill me . . .
I rolled onto my front, pressing quaking hands flat against the cement that should have taken my life.
Why didn't she kill me! I thought furiously. If the Edge didn't kill me, why couldn't she?
She could have killed me—right there, in that alley, while we were both alone; me vulnerable, weak, and unable to live on.
An anger pulled at my heartstrings. I found myself slowly and painfully supporting myself onto my hands and knees. Grunting, I attempted to get up from my knees, but my body buckled under the merciless ache of my bones from my fall onto Faith.
Then, I turned around and followed pursuit. As soon as I were to get on the rooftops, I knew I could find her eventually. I remembered her style, her way of the Runner's Vision, how she saw escape routes.
As I desperately searched the darkness for a familiar moving shadow, I pressed against my comms: "I have found Faith Connors—I am in pursuit, I repeat, I am in pursuit."
Pepper replied to my news, shouting, "All units merge with Post and take down Faith Connors!"
Reagan shouted, "We're tracking your comms right now, Cel. We're sending reinforcements. Get her!"
A quick flicker caught my eye. Up ahead, city lights flashed Faith's familiar lean outline. Without thinking twice, I leaped the Edge in pursuit.
--
It suddenly felt like a long journey, an odyssey, as I gradually gained on Faith. The more I kept up the pace, the lighter I felt; the more focused things felt around me. I didn't even have to stop and think how to calculate a jump or climb. I just did it. No thoughts. The Runner's flow returned to me: so simple, swift, yet light and free. For a moment, I actually forgot I was chasing a Runner and ex-comrade. It was too second-nature to me. That was how much I tuned the rest of the world out, along with my efforts.
If only life was like this . . .
Faith was still a great distance ahead of me. Every now and then she would drop behind the dark horizons of a building, then I would see her in a lit alley, street, then onto another rooftop again. I followed her on and off staircases, rooftops, and porches; I swung poles, vaulted over wired electrical fences, boxes, buildings, wall-ran trucks, slid down pipes or crashed through doors to catch up.
Faith eventually brought me through a door. I chased her all the way through. Just as I burst through the door leading back outside after her, a shadow jumped over my head. The moment the Black Neck landed, I kept Running ahead. The Black Neck caught up, by my side within seconds.
"Go, Cel," huffed Pepper behind the mask. "This one's yours. We've got your back."
I didn't answer. I picked up my legs so that only my toes lightly tapped the cement. I relaxed my arms, focused "pulling" at my abdomen and sliding only my shoulders, as I sped ahead. Pepper was close at my heels. We gained on Faith, who took a sudden sharp turn to the right, sliding down a pipe. Pepper and I remained persistent, choosing a quicker route to her as she leapt another Edge.
Ahead of us, by the light of the rooftop's lights, we saw another Black Neck jump, land, and lunge for Faith with a taser.
She got struck, but stumbled and kept pulling herself far from danger.
"Shit!" cursed Reagan as we caught up next to the Black Neck.
Ray veered to my left side, Pepper on my right, as we pursued Faith. While I vaulted another wire, Pep slid through hole in a wired fence, and Reagan executed a wall-run over the fence. Faith was still a ways ahead of us.
"Don't worry. We have her surrounded," said Loraine on our comms. "As we hope, if she keeps running that way, she'll eventually be at the Edge. Copters will await her off the Edge with armed SWAT cops. Blues will swarm the interiors while we flank our PK units on either side. With you, Ray, and Pep on her tail, she'll have nowhere to go."
"Perfect!" huffed Reagan. "Let's go."
My comrades slightly turned to look at me, nodded, as we sprinted side-by-side.
And ahead of us, as we leapt a few rooftops, we saw Faith skid to a wary halt. Racing to catch up, we gradually slowed down, for a copter emerged from the Edge in front of Faith, two SWAT cops aimed at her. She swiftly veered to the right, but four SWATs met her with their guns. She veered again the moment she saw them, but Loraine led back-up Black Necks to a halt. Again, Faith wheeled the moment she saw them, but when she turned, the three of us stood there.
"The last Runner," called out Loraine, smiling grimly. "What an honorable title. Is it worth dying with?"
Faith looked at me, glared, turned, and charged toward the Edge and the copter.
"Give it up, Connors," shouted Loraine, "you don't have to die—!"
Faith was still Running, though.
Instinctively, I burst forward in pursuit. Reagan and Pepper followed, while the SWAT cops in the copter shot at her. We were close on her tail, me in the lead.
"What is she doing—STOP SHOOTING BEFORE YOU SHOOT OUR BLACK NECKS, YOU IDIOTS!" roared Loraine.
Clever move, Faith: she was willing to use herself as bait to lure us into the bullets meant for her.
"CEASE FIRE!" bellowed Loraine. "PEP, RAY, CEL—!"
It was too late. Reagan was thrown back like a rag by the bullets, while Pepper toppled heavily bit by the rain of bullets. I got hit in the arm, while Faith took a bullet in her side and a gash along her arm; her blood sprayed freely in the wind of the copter's blades onto my attire.
The final leap of Faith.
She soared over the blades of the copter, rather be taken by the Edge than by Project Icarus. I soared, too. I followed her over the blades of authority into the fall of freedom.
That very three seconds of soaring, feeling like a thrown tennis ball reaching for the sunshine and blue sky, set me free. All burdens, all sorrows, and all fleeting memories of happiness and pain, washed from my body as if I had been purified. The lightness of dusk-colored air greeted me—its emptiness enclosed me like blooming wings, ripping at my clothes, at my hair, at my face. The wind was so merciful, like that of a lover's kiss, cool along my skin. Like Nahlah's lips.
That second of freedom suddenly turned into a rolling gut-feeling that flipped as I gradually fell.
Could you believe it? It was as if Faith knew that hanging platform from a crane was there the entire time. But I knew better as the Runner following her: that was pure luck.
That moment of lightness pulled me down heavily that I thought I was going to die. Instead, I landed behind the Runner two seconds after she did a tuck-and-roll with an outcry of pain. Then, she dragged herself a little further, holding her leaking side, and jumped again onto the rooftop of the building on the far other side.
"GET HER, CELESTE!" shrieked Loraine.
Her shriek reminded me of the fact that both Reagan and Pepper had been shot. I didn't know their outcome, nor would I ever. Their very existences evaporated from my thoughts like receding water.
I landed behind Faith, whose last efforts were drained from her last leap that ensured her safety. The moment she knew she was on another rooftop, she crumbled to her side, coughing, covering her bloody wound.
Behind us, the wind chopped at our hair as the same helicopter emerged. The SWAT cops aimed their guns, but I pulled out mine and fired at them, then the helicopter itself. A bubble of fire roared furiously at its side, tilting the helicopter, wounded, downward. It crashed into a skyscraper.
"WHAT THE HELL!" cried Loraine in shock.
I quickly turned, reached down, and supported the wounded Runner up. I forced her weak arm over my shoulder, while I carefully pulled at the belt hoops of her cargo pants to keep her up. She coughed and cried out in pain, while I slowly walked us further from sight.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING, CELESTE!?" screamed Loraine.
". . . What I should have done long ago," I grunted into my earpiece, trying to drag Faith from gun sight.
"CELESTE—Pep and Ray just got shot—because of her—Tony died—because of the Runners!" Loraine's words were a frenzy of confused hurt and anger. "CELESTE! I have no control over this, I can't save you from this—they'll shoot you!"
.". . . I shoulda been dead long ago, Raine, as a Runner . . ." I murmured, tightening my grip on Faith.
"CELESTE!" she roared.
A helicopter suddenly rained in on us just as we dragged ourselves behind protective walls on the rooftop. Before I could pull out my gun, the copter was shot again. Startled with a jolt through my heart, I looked up.
Miho stood up from a nearby rooftop, cocking her gun. I looked at her in disbelief, to which she returned with a smile of hope and gratitude, especially when she saw Faith.
Then, nearby from another rooftop, another gunshot exploded. It took down three Black Necks who had emerged stealthily from another rooftop adjourning ours. Miku joined Miho, reloaded her gun, and fired three bullets at the glass windows of the building Loraine's team stood on.
I watched as the huge shards fell slowly like icebergs. Sparks of the sunrise, which I just noticed, winked off the glass, reintroducing the Mirror's Edge. Those glints suddenly reminded me of the life I left—the Edge and my life with Nahlah—and the life that would remain with me.
"DAMMIT, Cel!" begged Loraine in fury. "GO, GO, GO—SHOOT THEM ON SIGHT!"
"People are Runners, too, Raine," I told her calmly. "Faith is a Runner, Tony was a Runner, I'm a Runner, and so are you. We all run. From things, from life . . ."
"CELES—!"
I ripped my comms out and threw it over the Edge.
"Let's go," said Miku, aiming her gun warily at our enemy on the other building across from us.
"E?" said Miho into an earpiece.
"That's Ethan," said Miku, urging me along. "He grabbed a track. He'll take us out of here and we can patch up Faith."
While Miho helped me with Faith, Miku kept our enemies at gunpoint, even though they were far away.
As I supported Faith, Miho had been looking at me questioningly and warily. However, I sensed the warmth from her expression. I ignored her as I looked down at Faith, gritting her teeth to bite in the pain gutting her in the side—at how she was still able to live despite everything she'd lost. She had lost her mother, her father, me, then Merc, then nearly her sister, and who knows what else.
We retreated in silence. Light flurries of memories of Nahlah burdened my very awakening. They were fleeting memories, sometimes like the broken wings of a bird staggering in the air away from me. Like the simple sight of an empty bottle melting into the warm sunlight in the sea, away from beach in Mexico, the memories of Nahlah suddenly lifted my very heart, as if my heart had been given wings. It was a beautiful, sad heart-tearing thought not to be able to claim that beauty that was mine, but I knew I would see it again.
Nahlah . . .
Because of you, I lived. I will keep living.
You taught me to love something, besides Running, running from something to love—and it was you. Thank you. I will miss you—I already miss you. So, so much. I hope you're happy, wherever you are. I'm sorry for everything.
I'm sorry I can't think of anything else to say or atone for my mistake of losing you.
I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry . . .
I love you . . .
Faith tried to walk upstraight, but I told her to be careful, while Miku urged us to go faster.
What else could I possibly lose?
I looked at the dawn of a new day, yet a day like any other day.
. . . How long have you and Faith known each other—since of your employment as a Runner? I need to know everything you know. I need to know what you feel—I need you to know how I feel:
I'm sorry, Nahlah. This is the best I can do.
Faith winced, but the sisters held her strong.
Well, Nahlah . . . what now?
"Hurry," exclaimed Miku.
. . . This isn't good-bye, Nahlah. Sooner or later, I will join you. I dunno when, but soon. But when Faith could have killed me, she saved me. So, I need to save her first . . .
"It's against the city, Cel," urged Miku.
P.S. I love you.
I listened to the Runner's grunts of effort to live on, and held onto Faith.
AUTHOR'S COMMENTS: I'm sorry everything had to end this way. But I needed to remind everyone that this was about the Mirror's Edge--Hope and Faith.