The Edge of No Tomorrow

6 | Violet

I linger at the bus stop in the early morning. I have no way of knowing if Kayden checked on Atlas.

I'll never know.

I could check on them and try to convince them to take this burden from me. But I don't.

My head angles to the left, checking to see if the street is clear—before I remember, and cross the street without bothering. The man with the sign is back, standing in the same place as before.

I approach him. Underneath the doomsday message, a new sentence has been added. The handwriting scrawls off the cardboard, making it illegible. "What does that say?"

Lowering the sign, the man turns to me. He's maybe a head taller than I am, his cheeks blossoming with rosacea. "The world is ending."

"Yeah, but what about under that?"

"Oh." He flips the cardboard around, sighing. "It says: Leave while you still can."

I nod, sticking a hand in the pocket of my sweater. The distant buzz of thunder echoes in my ringing ears. Thick clouds inch across the grey sky.

"I see. But you haven't left," I say.

A smile sprouts onto his face, revealing straightened white teeth. He sets the sign on the uneven ground and leans on the edge. "Neither have you."

A pause. I need to leave today; I know that. Two days is all I have left. The exact time of the satellite crash, I don't know. My hand clasps the boat ticket and brushes against the money I've stuffed into my pockets.

"I've seen you on the bus before," the man says. "Before the announcement."

I nod. The sky flashes white. A zap of lightning hits a pole in the distance. The wires hanging from it are exposed and swinging wildly. "I'm from around here. My name is Nina."

"Cyrus," he says. "I'm not from around here."

"Oh, really? Where are you from?"

He gestures to the road with his thumb. Glittery violet nail polish covers his nails. "Zaradara. It's a small town about five or six hours away. Really small. Here is where the hospital is. I take care of my mother. She's in the psych ward—was, I should say. I took her back to her house. That's... that's where she's happier."

"I'm so sorr—"

"Don't worry about it. You didn't know," he interrupts and smiles again. "I have to take care of her. Make her feel comfortable. Keep her safe."

The thunder rumbles again, and I count the seconds between the sound, followed by a flash of bright light. It illuminates the windows from the surrounding apartments for a millisecond, as if I could pretend nothing has changed; that people inhabit those homes, making dinner and singing along to music, cradling children and talking about the awful day they've had at work, and the weather, and traffic, and normal things that have gone like the lights have. As if I could pretend I still recognize myself in the mirror.

Why can't you just go back to the way you used to be?

I swallow, and the words get stuck in my throat.

"I think that's your ride," Cyrus says, pointing at the bus approaching from my left.

"Yeah, it is." I can barely hear myself. "If you could leave, would you do it?"

Cyrus' hands tighten against his sign. "If the circumstances were different, yes. I would. I don't know many people that would say no. But leaving would be worse, so I stay."

The bus arrives at my stop. I step forward, then hesitate. A cloud above my head breaks open, shedding a raindrop on my eyelash. I blink to brush it away.

"I'm sorry," I repeat. It sounds so hollow—so lifeless—but I don't know what else to say. I don't know what else to do.

"Don't be," Cyrus says and picks up his sign. "Nobody can save everyone."