Escape from Paradise

Chapter 17: Love is Gone

Larry strode through a dark, windy avenue. All the strange events of the day had become insignificant memories, distant and surreal. The incidents when rewound and repeated in his memory appeared as vivid as if they would be happening at the instant, yet everything in these memories appeared dull and pointless, far away and detached, utterly failing to reproduce the strange emotions he had experienced. When he closed his eyes, he saw William being squeezed into a single point together with the whole over-sized building, he heard the midget's laugh and words but the memory was no different from a flyball game of two second-grade teams. It was as if the anger, the surge of power, and the overwhelming feeling of being alive had never passed through him.

The influx of information if attempted to digest on his own would overheat Larry's mind. He had to share it with someone and the only one capable of understanding him was Diana. Of course, at first she would try to simplify and dumb down his statements but Larry knew that he had learned enough facts to persuade her into believing his unbelievable story. A look at the issue from a different, trustworthy and honest perspective here was a must because in Larry's eyes all newly learned facts had become a mess where good from evil and right from wrong was indistinguishable. He realized that he, Jessie, and William had different motives justified from their own point of view. He knew precisely what his and Jessie's motives were but what about William? The ugly thing did not possess that nobility, chivalrousness and fighting spirit of Jessie's nor did he appear much interested in anything else but Larry's end. What might have been his true motives?

As the people retreated to their homes for the night, the shower weakened and the sound of falling raindrops was substituted by the increasing wind currents whistling as they passed the thin alleys or rushed along the treetops. A branch fell in the distance. Larry turned around and saw only an empty avenue of swinging shadows. It was not the first time he had to check if no one followed him after he had left the train since after encountering William, tiny drops of fear stirred the uneasiness inside Larry. He now knew that life and all things, including him, had an end and there were people willing to end him. They had checked for his weaknesses before. It was only a matter of time before they test him again.

When Larry placed his hand on the door-handle of Diana's apartment building, he stiffened as this particular movement brought back the memory of Jessie's empty house, the incredibly heavy door, the scene with the violent robot. He pulled the handle hoping with all his heart that it would open lightly, just like always and it did.

"Good evening, Sir." an enthusiastic robot greeted him from behind a reception table.

"Good evening," Larry replied. As he passed the floating machine, which thoroughly followed visitor's steps with its empty eye sockets, he paused.

Seeing visitor's hesitation, the robot asked, "How can I help you?"

"I'd like to know the names of all guests who had come to this house today."

"Tom Brown. Gable Winterfield, Jessie Green, Larry Smith."

"What?" Larry asked with great surprise. "When did Jessie Green arrive?"

"An hour and seventeen minutes ago."

Larry darted toward the stairway breathing heavily, asking, "Is she still here?"

"No."

In great leaps, skipping two or three steps, he rushed to the third floor where he saw a wide-open door to Diana's apartment. 'No, no, no, no, no," he repeated slowing down. The hope of seeing his loved one evaporated with every step and vanished the moment he stepped through the doorway.

The room was a wreck. Scattered on the floor lay broken chairs, pillows, shattered vases, a cracked computer monitor, a torn bathroom curtain and other items ranging from a hair comber to a window knob. The dreadful blobs of dark red stuck on the various shards lying on the floor reminded Larry that humans bled. He felt sick just by looking at the blood. Never before did the spilled human juice appear so horrifying. In fact, no wound or broken limb he had seen had ever induced such sickness as the tiny red dots splattered all over the corridor and the room.