They talk about how brave I was. How noble. How touching gesture it was. How scared they all were when they finally got there, not sure if either of us had survived.

They talk lot. Most of that talking so full of shit that they’re standing knee deep in it.



She turned twenty last month. They threw a party for her. A party she never took part with. Said she spent that evening much rather up on the roof by herself. Just thinking and feeling.

When they all were downstairs getting wasted, I snuck up to the roof. I don’t know if she knew I was there. If she did, she didn’t mind. I just sat there, few steps away and watched her watching the lights in the distance.



She was so cold that night. Cold and dead on my arms. Couldn’t hear her heart. Couldn’t see pulse ticking on her throat. She felt and smelt dry and brittle. Like dry leaf. Hollow and empty husk. Used up, just waiting to be disposed with the rest of the litter and debris covering the base of the machine she had been strapped on.

I was going to leave her. Leave all the shit behind and return to the road. Road’s a cold lover, but I have shagged with her long enough to learn all her little quirks.

I was going to leave her. But I wanted to do something first. To give her something she had gone along so long without. Touch. Skin on skin. Even if it was late, and she was dead already, it didn’t feel right to just discard her there.



They think I did it on purpose.



I was just going to stroke her cheek. She looked so cold. Wanted to give her some warmth. Wanted to shield her from the winds Storm had called. Even if she was dead didn’t mean that she should have been cold and uncomfortable.

When I felt the pull starting, I was too surprised to let go. Letting go didn’t even occur to me before I felt her stirring against my chest, pushing me away. Even then I tried to grab her harder, because her cheek still felt so fucking cold, and there was still warmth left in me.



She’s always cold, like the road I abandoned for her. They blame the machine. Say that it hurt her even more than they first realized. They blame even me. Telling that I’m keeping her isolated. That’s a load of shit.

She’s always been cold. Ever since her mutation kicked in. Cold and alone. Her choice. Her decision. I’m just guarding the perimeter.