This was it. He stared at his feet, only inches away from that horrible, horrible drop. There was a buzzing in his ears, drowning out everything else. His skin tingled with anticipation. The wind howled around him, loud, but strangely distant. It was threatening to push him over the edge.
No, not on his watch. He would only go on his own terms.
He scooted back over the dusty surface, kicking aside a pebble or two. He was not scared. Just... respectful. After all, it was that one step that would end his life.
He took another step backwards. No, not yet. He turned his back to the cliff and sat down, legs crossed.
And waited.
***
The girl ran. She ran and ran and ran as if her life depended on it. Maybe it did. A part of her was about to die. With her arms and legs pumping and muscles burning with exhaustion she flew along the streets, barely dodging the people to her left and right. Somebody behind her cursed as she jumped over him. It really was true what they say: fear can make you fly. And boy, was she afraid.
She left the city behind. Asphalt turned to gravel turned to earth. The soil glowed red in the evening sun. Her jacket tore on one of the bushes to the side. She didn't stop. Not much further now-
There.
"What the hell are you doing?" she screamed at the figure sitting calmly just a foot away from the steepest drop she had ever seen. The man opened his eyes.
"Hello, Charlotte. It is a rather cool evening to meet you here outside."
"Don't give me that crap! You sent me that text. What do you mean you're going to die?" Her voice had not broken at that last word. It had not.
"Exactly what I said." Still the man seemed like tranquility incarnated. "I'm going to die." He got up to his feet slowly. "Either from that tumor in my head or the death sentence. Or now." He took half a step backwards. Charlotte dived forward, but stopped in motion when the man held up a hand.
"Can't you hear them?" He knocked his head to the side. "The sirens."
The girl froze, stiff as a poker.
"I killed them," the man said, his first and last silent tears caressing his cheek. He moved back another inch.
"Goodbye, Charlotte." And with those words he took that one last step.
The girl lunged herself after him, making her greatest effort ever to reach his arm, jacket, fingers-
But no. He fell.
Eternity later, cowering at the edge of that blasted cliff, frozen in shock and eyes wet she whispered.
"There was no one else there, Harold. Nobody."
+++
On that day, September 16th, Harold Manning, serial killer and brother figure to one Charlotte Lewis committed suicide by jumping off Temple Peak. His case was one of the longest and most challenging ones the NYPD ever had.
