Regretful Love

Chapter Ten

                  

Step. Just step. Every movement was a conscious thought process: each twitch of a muscle, each pull of a tendon, each stretch of a ligament. They all had to be carefully planned and thought through, his brain issuing orders like a commanding general. Kellion Mocking knew that at some point in his life things hadn't been this way. He remembered times, running, jumping, leaping, when he hadn't needed to... to think so much. Everything had been natural and unconscious, but not anymore. Gritting his teeth, he steeled himself for the impact in his knee as his right foot hit the tarmac.

It was hot. It seemed always to be hot these days, the sky stretching away white and palest blue, empty and big and full. Sweat trickled down his face, dripping off his nose, stinging his eyes. He thought about wiping it away, but didn't want to confuse his legs by issuing orders to his arms at the same time, so he didn't.

Up ahead was the girl. That's what he called her: the girl. She'd never given him a name, not once in the weeks they'd been together after he'd pulled her out of the river when she'd tried to top herself, her story trite and classic and heartbroken, the ultimate sacrifice for a no-good nothing of a man he didn't even know. He envied her the ease with which she moved, her legs long, agile, lithe, walking as if it were no more than a dream, floating almost. Kell grunted and forced himself to keep moving, ignoring the hills, the wide vista in front of him, the steaming black tarmac, and the trickling of the river nearby.

He felt like he'd spent all his life walking like this, and probably would spend the rest of it too—not that he had that much left. He frowned and concentrated for a minute as he almost tripped. How long had it taken him to get here? A month, maybe. A month of walking and hurting and hoping. If he closed his eyes he could see her face. Not the face of the girl, but the face of another girl: Angelius. It was all that kept him going. The only reason he didn't just lie down by the side of the road right now and die.

"You all right, Kell?"

The girl had stopped and turned and was looking at him, the sun lighting her from behind like some kind of archangel or something.

He licked his lips to moisten them. "Yeah," he croaked.

She stared for a second, then shrugged, turned back and kept walking. He was grateful that she hadn't tried to talk further. He wasn't in the mood for conversation.  He was too busy thinking about Angelius: His saviour. His love. His fatal mistake.

He was aware of the irony of all this. Him there telling the girl how damn stupid she was for trying to kill herself over some damn boy, whilst here he was literally killing himself over a girl. But it wasn't just any girl. It was Angelius. A month he'd walked, dragging his frail body over roads small and big. And when he'd got there...

When Kell got there, Angelius was gone. If he wouldn't have been almost crying, he would have laughed—laughed at the stupidity, the banality, the futility of it all. He'd almost given up hope then—almost. But the girl had seen him. Talked to him. He'd come to realise that the journey wasn't over yet, that there was still more to be done. He could still find her if he looked harder, travelled further. He had a lead, another address, newer than the one he'd kept crumpled in his pocket for all these years. He was being tested, he thought; persistence would pay off. This disappearance, this second address, it was just a test to see how much he wanted to find her. Find his Angelius.

So here he was, walking, hurting inside and out, and praying to God that he had the strength to finish his quest. To find her.

Gravel scattered as his toe scraped the road, almost tripping him again. He swallowed and tried to concentrate harder, but it was difficult now. Longingly, he thought of the metal box in his pack, of the smooth entrance of the needle sliding into his skin, and the sweet, cloudy bliss of the medicine working. Maybe he could stop for just a minute. Maybe just a shot and then he'd keep going and they could walk longer, into the evening when it'd be sweet and cool.