Over the Darkened Landscape - By Derryl Murphy Page 0,47

he’d forgotten the thing. “Slow doesn’t exactly promote forward thinking, it appears.”

“We have a phone back at the station. Connects us with your headquarters.”

Mike held up a hand. “I know, I know.”

“We can call.”

“What, and tell them I took an illicit drug to come across the Line and decide to cover up a murder my best friend committed? I’d call if it was just me, but I can’t get my partner in trouble.”

They were both quiet for a minute. Outside the sun was now shining, and it seemed that most of the kids had left; only a few were still standing around.

“Did you bring your car?”

Danny nodded.

“Take me back.” Mike grinned, but he was feeling scared, and he knew it probably showed, no matter the front he presented. “I guess I’ll put in for early retirement. Maybe I can even qualify for full pension after only three days on the job.”

“Mike, no.”

“Danny, I can’t stay. I can’t.” He squeezed his friend’s shoulder. “You know it, and I know it. If I stay too long I start to age anyway. May as well be old in a place where old people are welcome.”

A long pause. “Right, then.” Danny’s voice was catching. “Let’s go.”

The drive back to the Line seemed too short. Neither of them talked, or even looked at each other, Danny concentrating on the drive and Mike just looking out the window at the buildings and kids as they went by.

At the Line he climbed out, groaning even more from the pain of the ride. He went down on one knee then, and they hugged, tight, knowing this was really going to be the last time.

He stood at the Line for a moment, looking up high into the haze, then back at Danny. “I’ll miss you.”

“Try and enjoy your retirement.” They both tried to smile.

Mike shrugged. “Maybe I’ll use my old age to go knock a few heads, make sure nobody’s thinking about crossing over ever again.”

“It ain’t perfect, but this is still some pretty goofy shit,” came another voice, quiet but definitely amused.

Mike turned back and watched as Simone staggered across the Line, carrying a syringe and the second vial of Slow, half empty. She handed them to him, turned and winked at Danny, then said, “You kiss real nice, Mike. Hurry up and take that stuff; it’s probably not enough to hold back all the years, but it’s better than nothing.” She brushed some hallucinatory thing away from the front of her face, and then sighed. “You kiss like a kid. Felt nice.”

Mike, not sure how long her hit would last, put a hand on Danny’s shoulder and forced a grin, then loaded up the syringe, found a vein, and with only one false start stuck himself.

Taking Simone’s hand, he left Templeton. The extra years bearing down on him were not as heavy as before, and the Slow kept some spring in his step. He closed his eyes, and tried to remember what it had meant to be a kid.

The Day Michael

Visited Happy Lake

The house was quiet when Michael got there. Mom was at the hospital for a late shift tonight and wouldn’t be home until midnight, later if she picked up some overtime. And considering the money from Dad was late again this month, overtime was likely.

He ignored the supper she’d left in the fridge, instead nuked a frozen pizza. After he was done with that and a can of Coke he watched some TV, did the little bit of homework he’d brought home, then got himself ready for bed. There was nothing else to do, no friends to see or talk to, and he liked reading in bed the best, anyway.

He’d found some old books at a rummage sale on the way home today, and something had made him buy them. Lucky that Grandma had sent him ten bucks a couple of days ago.

One was a tattered old sci-fi paperback, but the rest were books he remembered from when he was a kid, titles that Mom had likely tossed during one of her cleaning fits: Tales of the Green Green Woods, by Walter T. Haywood, a small hardcover, pretty beat up, and a bunch of other books by Haywood, including Culpepper Frog’s Big Day, James Jackrabbit’s Exciting Race, How Randall Grizzly Came to the Woods, and more. Just holding them had brought back warm memories, and he’d decided right then that he had to have them again.

The novel looked interesting, but Michael decided he would check

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