The End Came With a Kiss (24 page)

"Katherine does that." I say, unable to hide my confusion, though I realize the heaviness of what Harry is sharing.

"My wife never fought," he says, welling up with emotion. "Not like that wife of yours in there is fighting. I've never seen anything like that. My wife wouldn't have lasted two minutes in that room."

James nods in agreement, his lips and chin tight, his countenance set.

Is it true? Is Katherine different? I've hoped it. With all my heart I've hoped it.

"I've seen hundreds change," says Ashlyn, softly, "and Harry's right. They don't act like that, Ben. Even when they're harmless, or they respond socially to someone being near, it's empty, like a wooden marionette. They can't be guided. There's no communicating with them. But the way your wife listens to your voice, it's startling. It's like she's in there, fighting for all she's worth, fighting to get into a loop. Not like the others. Not for herself. I think she's doing it for you."

I struggle to keep my composure and bring a shaky hand up to comb through my hair. I’ve never given up believing that she’s alive in there under that dead skin, but hearing them confirm it after all these weeks of blind hope is almost more than I can bear. My breath stops in my throat, and my eyes begin to burn. But I fight the emotion.

"That woman loves you," says Harry, tears breaching his eyelids. "I wished my Carol had loved me that much."

"Well it’s not over for your wife either, Harry. We're going find her. And we're going to bring her back."

He nods somberly, not bothering to wipe at the wetness on his cheeks and upper lip. "I believe it. I believe we will."

Lau clears his throat. "Is this a good or bad time to tell you I have a mixture?"

I wipe harder at my face and straighten. "It's a good time, Lau," I say with a firm sniff.

He dismounts his lab stool and comes toward me with a vial in his hand, utterly oblivious to the emotion in the room, which is typical for him. "I want you all to know that medical science history is being made here today. If this were a normal workday, I would be..."

I interrupt. "Lau. We're in a little bit of a time crunch here."

His brow crinkles briefly, but quickly livens again. "I was working on an experimental antacid solution, but our vision for the product was a simple acid reflux fix, we never imagined we could use it to balance the pH level in an entire..."

"Lau. Please!" Is he entirely unable to share this cure without boasting about his accomplishment? "We'll get you an award later. Get to the point."

He frowns. "This will cure your wife, but in order to cure her in the timeframe needed, I put dangerously high quantities of three substances, one of them being the p227 compound. And since we don't have any monkeys to test this on, I can make no guarantees that this won't kill her. I'm sorry." The last two words come out mechanically, as though he’s only saying them because his mind calculated that it would be appropriate.

He holds the solution out toward me.

Ashlyn snatches it from his fingers. "Then I'll take it first," she says.

"What? No!" I say, grabbing for it.

She pushes an elbow out, protectively. "Hear me out."

"Ashlyn, I won’t allow you to put your life at risk."

"I’ve seen things, ugly things, Ben, things that I helped make happen. And I lied to myself. I told myself that it was all for a higher purpose, that after all this pain, the world would be different. I've seen so much death, so many horrible things that I have to live with. Don't make me live with this. I won't be able to bear it if your wife dies because of me."

I study her features. Her normal cocky self-assuredness is gone, replaced by regret and desperation. Harry was right. She's been honest with us this whole time. And if this act of selflessness will help her on her road to redemption, how can I possibly steal it from her?

"You sure about this?" I say, dropping my hand.

"Don't worry about me. You just keep your wife alive. Okay? Promise you'll do that for me."

The room feels like it’s expanding as I stare at her lips. Those are the same words I have spoken to Katherine over and over throughout all this. How strange I should be the one responding to them.

"Promise me," she says again.

"Yes," I say with a sharp blink. "I promise."

"Good, then it's settled."

"Do I have anything to say about this?" says James cautiously.

Ashlyn refuses to look at him. "I wish you wouldn't. I don't think I'm strong enough."

He steps in close and looks down at her turned face. "I'm not going to ask you not to do it. I just want you to know something."

Her eyes take a chance and look up at him.

"I don't care what you think you've done, or how many you think you've hurt, this is who you are. This is who you've always been. You're not a monster. You're the kind of person who is willing and able to do the hard things for a greater purpose, and I think you're amazing."

Her eyes drop. "Yeah. Well I don't feel amazing."

He smiles. "That's only a feeling."

27

Twelve hours. That's how long Lau believes it will be before he knows for sure Ashlyn will survive the serum. That's how long I have to keep Kate from breaking. But things are not getting better, they’re getting worse. Though she is fighting to settle into this new environment, she’s increasingly more aware of it. I don't think she’s capable of tricking her mind into believing there are exits in this room, and without exits she can't complete the loop.

I switch out the sedative I've been using, but the new one only adds another fifteen minutes, at most. The hours that stretch out before me seem dauntingly impossible at this rate. If Katherine is unable to slip into a longer loop, I may have no choice but to use the serum early.

The living room loop is a failure. I try propping her in a chair with a table and a brush in front of her; she flips the table and goes into a rage within seconds of waking. I lay a broom in her lap to see if she will slip into a household routine, she shoves it away immediately and begins to melt down. After several of these failed attempts I am forced to go back to the living room sequence. Even though she sometimes doesn't even make it to the flashlight, it’s still longer than anything else I've tried.

We work on it for several hours, and Lau goes through every substance he has. Although there is some effect when a new sedative is tried, Katherine quickly adapts. The effect is down to a frightening three minutes. I am now convinced it is impossible to make the twelve hour window.

When I am able, I check on Ashlyn. She’s not doing well. She can't stop sweating and is continuing to fight through violent tremors. Lau believes they may be seizures. James is by her side, dabbing a cold cloth on her forehead and cheeks. There is worry in his eyes, but also strength.

I return to Kate with my doubts and fears multiplied. Even if I can get her to the twelfth hour, even if Ashlyn recovers, how will I ever get her to loop while having seizures and cold sweats?

Suddenly I realize something. I've been looking at this all wrong. I'm not looking at twelve hours, I'm looking at twenty-four! I dig my nails into my scalp and pull on chunks of hair.
THINK, BEN. THINK!
There has to be a solution here! But if there is, it flees from me like a frightened mouse. She isn't going to make it. She’ll soon be awake permanently and there will be nothing to keep her from spiraling into madness. Will it break her? Is there no coming back from that unresponsive state? There are so many things I don't know, so many things beyond my control.

She’s waking again. I walk her through the routine. We make it to the flashlight this time, but again she is aware of the walls that confine her.

"You don't need to search the house, Kate. You don't need to search it this time. Stay here with me."

She is trembling like a leaf.

"Katherine. You don't have to search the house. Skip that part."

Her breath starts its fluttering.

"Listen to me, Kate. I'm here, in the middle of the room. You don't have to check the house. I'm here! In the middle of the room. I've
always
been here, Kate. I've never left you."

She takes a step forward and a groan climbs up from her belly.

"Fight it, Kate! You don't have to do that part. I'm here in the middle of the room. All you have to do is come to me."

She takes another step and the groan becomes a growl.

"Please, Kate. I can't save you if you won't help me."

The growl is growing. Soon the creature will take over. I pull the tranquilizer gun from my waist. Her shoulders are hunching.

"KATE! YOU PROMISED!"

Silence engulfs the room.

There is no growling. There is no flutter of breath. Only the sound of my heart beating in my ears.

"You promised," I say again. This time, more gently.

She turns, and her hand is out in front of her, groping in her darkness. As I watch her fingers scrunch into that familiar half fist, tears push unrestrained from my eyes. She’s doing it. She’s moving to the next part of the loop.

"That's it," I breathe. "That's it, honey. I'm right here."

Her hand swings back and forth and she manages to get it to my side where it needs to be in this sequence of motions.

"Yes," I say. Overwhelmed. Tears streaming now. "I'm right here. I've always been here."

We are in sync now. Her other hand comes up onto my chest, but she does not draw in close. The mixture of emotions I have seen so many times before dance in her features and glint from her eyes. Fear, uncertainty, sorrow. Then the stronger emotion pushes these away, and now, for the first time, I understand what this other emotion is. In the fear of that day, when we found each other in the dark, she was looking at me with relief, because she knew that, no matter what, she could trust that I would be there, that I would never leave her.

Her lips move and I hear the words in my mind. "Tell me this is going to be all right."

"We found the cure," I say, barely able to get the words out. These are not the words I said that day, but I want her to hear them.

"What if I don't want to be cured? What if I don't want to live with this pain?"

"We will find beauty in these ashes."

Her eyes smile and her lips form the words, "How do you do that?" But the next sentence is quick as always, and I wait patiently for her to slow down. Her chin tightens, and there is a great sadness in her eyes. "It hurts so bad, Ben."

"We will get through this. Just promise me you'll fight."

"I'll fight," she mouths. Her eyes come up and lock onto mine. "For us, I'll fight."

"We've found the cure, Katherine. It's almost over, but I need you to fight."

"I'll fight," she says again, with airy emphasis.

"No matter how hard. You fight. And I’ll be here fighting with you. To the end."

Her body begins to tremble. This is my cue to say the next line. But I don’t. I don't ask her to make her promise, because it would signal the end of the loop, and I need her to stay awake longer. I need her to stay here with me. But will she finish it on her own?

It is strange that I should see it this way. For Kate, the loop should be complete. She doesn't need me to ask her to promise. She doesn't need me to say anything. Her loops are internal. But this one is different. I can sense it. She is waiting for me to make my demand. To tell her to promise that she will fight, even though, on the day I asked it of her, she never responded. She was afraid it was a promise she could not keep. Yet every day since her death, since her loop began, she has made that promise. Does that make this loop different? Is my question as vital to her as the need to see me standing in front of the house waiting for her return? Is my role in this necessary? I've never not said it.

I watch and wait, but her words never come. She continues to stare, shivers making her torso and neck tremble randomly for several minutes, but then, as though a switch is flicked, she simply stops, her eyes still focused on mine, mouth slightly open.

Did I break her? Did she see no way to continue and give up? Panic surges in my chest as I reach out to grip her, but her hand stops me. Her fingers gently squeeze my forearm, reassuring me that everything is okay.

Oh thank God!
She's still here. She's still conscious. But what is this? Is she looping?

I shift my weight and as I do her fingers squeeze my arm again. Her face is no longer fixed. There is movement in her eyes. She’s looking at me. Studying my face. She’s locked in a process.

Her cheek lifts and her lips tighten and release. Her eyes run down to my lips and back up again. Her head tilts and realigns. I watch her for a long time until I begin to see it. There’s a pattern. This isn't a single process. I'm seeing her whole loop playing out in a matter of seconds. Her entire loop has become a micro loop. I wonder what scene from our life together is playing out over and over in her mind? What was so important that she could make it her entire loop?