I, Immortal

Chapter Thirty-Five

The vial and syringe sat on a shelf in my living room for three days before I dared come near it again. After leaving Lulu's home, I had promised myself to wait until I wasn't half-crazed with grief before I took the serum. I wanted all my wits about me, as impossible at it seemed to be. Some part of me still wished I had administered the serum to Lulu while I had the chance, but I didn't regret my actions. I had slowly accepted that I couldn't keep her in my life, but I could still honor her dream for me. But I didn't feel ready, and so I hesitated and let the days pass. The first day after the visit, I cast a glance at the little bottle and hurried out of the room. I needed more time to think and heal and calm, and a day was not enough. The second day came and I refused to step foot in the room where the vial stood. On the third day I took an afternoon walk through the neighborhood. The warmth of the sun on my skin, and the breeze wafting the scent of pine through the dusky air seemed to clear the chaos from my mind. I felt alive, peaceful. Ready. Soon, I promised myself at the end of my walk, Soon I'll take the serum.

Now I stood in the living room, listening to the ticking of the clock on the wall as I stared out the window. I stood leaning up against the wall, a glass of hot tea in hand, which was mainly for calming the jitters as I anticipated what was to come. I was hesitating again, and I knew it but for now I was satisfied to watch the cars driving down the street, their tires rumbling across the concrete. A white Mini Cooper caught my eye after a string of darker-colored cars. It drove slowly up the street, as if the driver was lost or unsure of his destination. The clock sang out the half-hour chime, and I turned my gaze away from the window. The vial still stood on the shelf, waiting for me, daring me to muster some courage and take the serum.

I straightened and set my glass on the sill. I didn't make a move right away, still seeking perfect calm before I took up my mission. Another five minutes passed before I crossed the room to the shelf where the vial was. I reached and took the little bottle in my hand. The sapphire blue liquid splashed up and streamed down the glass sides like raindrops streaming down windows. It was beautiful, hypnotic. The tension inside me weakened, instantly replaced by peace. I slowly rolled up my sleeve, traced my finger across my arm until I found a vein. My heart pounded in my chest as I remembered the awe I had felt when I had awakened in the hospital bed after the procedure. Not long now before I would feel that power inside me again. I drew a deep breath and picked up the syringe.

Airmid's voice interrupted.

"Sir, you have a visitor."

Glancing out the window at the street, I noticed the white Mini Cooper, the same one which I had watched driving aimlessly up the street, had parked at the curb outside my house. A little dog sat in the passenger seat, scratching at the window. The unlocked picket gate which fenced in my yard swung gently in the breeze, tapping against the latch.

I stared at the ceiling. "Who is it?"

"Unknown." Airmid replied through the intercom, then added as saucily as a robotic voice could muster, "You have not yet set up a printpad in this residence."

"Because," I mumbled, "A printpad has been the least of my problems."

"Sir?"

"I'll get the door." I heaved a sigh and looked at the vial in my hand. "One last delay." I muttered the quick promise, set the vial and syringe on the table, and walked to the door.