Death of Innocence
Day 16
Third Precinct, Lower Manhattan, same day
He'd stepped back into the trees, shadows where the eyes couldn't see. Wasn't finished with it yet. Not here, at this place. Something to do with the light.
November. The days getting shorter and shorter. Winter soon and the shortest days of the year. Something sad about that, here. Triggered him to go there in his mind. Re-live it, one more time.
When he'd looked again at that spot across the street, that corner, where the two stains had merged to one – racing away from them that night – her there in his arms. Never saw her last breath, he thought. Was it there, in his arms?
He breathed into the thought.
Nothing came for a little bit. Like clouds in his mind.
Then the sounds started to come.
Voices. Rolling of the wheels on cement. Bump of the gurney up over the curb. Someone down at his side. Speaking, but he couldn't make sense of the sound. Then up, in a world of pain in the air. Exhaled, all the way down to his bones. In and out of his senses after that.
Bump of the gurney again. Back of the ambulance, this time. Rolling him in. Had him sitting up a bit when he opened his eyes. High off the ground in the back. Doors were open, so he could still see.
Working on her. Chest compressions. Flatline on the monitor.
Saw their faces. Grim.
Remembered thinking just before the doors slammed shut: "Couldn't we stop? Right now? Roll it back? For God's sake, Joss. For my sake, too: won't you lie with me for a while and let's just forget about this world?"
Last look at the tracing, doors closing… Flatline, still…
The tears leaked down his face. Unstoppable then.
Last thought, as they laid him back on the gurney. And the ambulance started to roll. And the siren coming up, like a wail in the night:
"Please. Don't go where I can't follow."