Chapter 20. Meridian

She was running – fleeing, really. She was sprinting down the hall, ignoring the shouts of Jack and her father behind her, ignoring the startled cries of SG personnel when she bumped into them or just pushed them out of her way.

She took the elevator and wished she hadn't. It was too slow, gave her too much time to be still, and she didn't want to be still. She couldn't be. She needed to go, to be away from here, to be as far from this place that smelt like death as she could get.

I don't know why we wait to tell people how we really feel.

The elevator pinged open and she was off, sprinting past the two guards stationed at the entrance even as they shouted after her. She jammed her helmet on her head and leapt onto her bike, the back tyre spinning and spitting gravel as she revved hard. She was past the gates before they even had time to close them.

Why do we wait to tell people how we really feel?

She pushed the bike hard, opening up the throttle. Rain pelted down, battering her leather jacket and splattering against her visor, and she could almost pretend it was the rain that blurred the road in front of her. She rode endlessly, with no destination in mind, only knowing that she couldn't go back to the base, and she couldn't go home. She weaved around passing cars, speeding down the straights just to feel the adrenalin coursing through her. She knew she was going too fast, taking corners too wide, but she didn't care. She was numb; she was numb and yet, somehow, she still had this horrible, aching hole in her chest.

Why did I wait?

She hit the gas, the engine roaring beneath her as she sped up the mountain pass. The road curved around a sharp bend, a vertical cliff wall on one side and a guardrail and a strip of trees on the other side the only thing between her and a steep drop. She was pushing 70 and she rounded the corner too sharply and suddenly headlights blinded her and she swerved, barely missing the truck barrelling down the hill. Her bike skidded out from under her, and Sam tucked and rolled as it slid across the wet bitumen and crashed into the rock wall.

Her heart pounding, Sam could only hear her own breath for a moment, echoing around in her skull, before faint shouting broke through. Groaning, she rolled to her hands and knees, realising the truck driver had stopped and was now running towards her.

"Are you alright, miss?" He shouted over the pouring rain.

Sam sat back on her knees, mentally checking herself. The left side of her jeans were torn in places, her leg had bad gravel rash, and her left shoulder ached, but she didn't think anything was broken.

"I'm okay!" She called back to the driver, holding her thumb up as he approached. The man helped her to her feet, still voicing his concern.
She waved him away, convincing him that she was fine, that she had someone on their way to come get her. She hobbled over to pick her bike up off the ground, waving at the driver as he returned to his truck and continued downhill.

Sam sighed; her bike was scraped all up the left side, and the front wheel cover was broken in places. This would cost her a new body kit at least. She wheeled the bike over to the treeline and leant it upright against one of the sturdy trunks. Sam sat down heavily next to it, wincing as she leant against the tree. She carefully slid off her helmet, tenderly touching the bruise on her temple. She pulled her, thankfully unharmed, phone out of her pocket. Her instinct was to press #1 on her speed-dial, but now that number would never answer. Her hand shook, her thumb frozen over the keypad. He was gone, and he would never answer again.

He was gone, gone, gone and Sam was all alone.

She dropped the phone in the mud, her knees drawing up to her chest and her arms wrapping around her head as she buried her face and cried.

Aching, painful sobs wracked her body and her throat closed over, choking her, but she couldn't stop. She couldn't stop the onslaught of tears, nor the cries torn from her lungs – all she could do was dig her nails into her bloody knees and let the rain soak her to the bone as Daniel's death slowly ripped her apart.

I guess I hoped you always knew.