End Game

Under the sky

Tim was right. It didn't take much. A hardware store supplied ladder, rope, and tools; a rental company the getaway car. At Min's suggestion they also acquired pairs of overalls and hardhats.

They waited until the darkness was as well established as it was ever going to be. Not very dark at all: the sky above low and oppressive, clouds having rolled in unnoticed through the course of the evening. A sky that would have lacked stars even on the clearest of nights – in a city this light-polluted – it now emitted a pale glow, a false dusk destined to last all night long. As if heaven, affronted by the expanse of human artifice arrayed below, had chosen to turn her back on humanity – to deny us her splendor, instead leaving us to stew in our own waste heat and secondhand daylight. An abandonment of hope, or merely a deferral of judgement?

A drive around the block confirmed that all was quiet. They parked the car one street away from Husk's warehouse, outside a neighboring building with an adjoining roof. As they came to a halt, Tim looked across to Min. Her face, too, was illuminated by light pollution, in this case from the dashboard.

He looked back at the building, its blank façade, mentally preparing himself for what they were about to do. "You don't have to do this," he said. "You could be lookout. Warn me if anyone comes. That would actually make more sense."

"Nice try, but no. If you're going, I'm coming to."

"You're not scared of heights by any chance?"

"Would I tell you if I was?"

"Oh right. Pride." A thought occurred. "You know what they say comes after pride?"

"Is this really the time to be reminding me of that? Speaking of sins and their consequences, how come you get off so lightly?"

"Huh?"

"Gluttony makes you fat. Lust results in – I don't know – sexually transmitted diseases and demands for child support. Pride, as you've so tactfully reminded me, comes before a fall. But sloth? All sloth seems to lead you to is more sloth. In which case, why are you even here?"

Tim shrugged. "It's like I said the other day. The punishment for sloth is that you so rarely get to indulge in it. Believe me, I'd rather be somewhere with my feet up ..."

"Gotta be done?"

Tim nodded. "Gotta be done," he agreed.

For a time neither of them moved.

"Have you considered that Husk might be right?" said Min. "I mean, if you're looking for an excuse to just let things ride ..."

"That it's okay after all? To release a virus into the world?"

"We don't know that that is what it is. There must be more to it, otherwise why the coffins? I was thinking of what Emmy-Lee said ... How Husk thinks the world is too full of people. Perhaps his plan is something more benign. I don't know ... take everyone off line, so to speak, for a few years. Leave a few smart people behind, give them the breathing space they need to fix up all our problems. He says he wants to save the world. Maybe he's telling the truth? We could be messing with humanity's last chance for survival."

"Dunno," said Tim. "Let's go and find out."

*

They got out of the car and unloaded the ladder from its roof. Resisting any temptation to furtiveness, trusting to their overalls and hardhats – the universal uniform of people who have a right to be where they are – they unfurled the ladder and placed it up against the building. Min went first, Tim watching from below as the soles of her sneakers ascended rung by rung. He waited for her call, then followed, conscious of his gear-laden backpack as it tugged upon his shoulders.

The ladder ended just a fraction short of the top, making the transition onto the roof a scary one, although not especially difficult. Min was waiting for him, taking in a view made up largely of the surrounding rooftops. He joined her and for a moment they listened to the silence, an action that only served to draw Tim's attention back to the oppressive sky. In the stillness of the air it was as if they were not outside at all, but rather in a vast indoor room – with a ceiling that hung low and foreboding. It was a ridiculous notion that Tim pushed aside by rummaging through his backpack for the flashlight.

As he did so, Min fiddled with her phone, placing it in the breast pocket of her overalls and securing it in place with tape.

"You ready?" Tim asked. Min nodded. "Okay then, lights, camera, and ... action."

Torchlight leading the way, they set off for the hole, the descent into which they were now committed.