To Be A Killer

Chapter 7: Walk Of Life

"Go out to Runner Three," Sarah says. "Get Carina back."

"Is there really no chance?" Sam asks.

"I always thought you'd be here."

"We're here," Paula whispers.

"I'll be waiting."

"...the minute Van Ark smashed that machine."

"Clean through the temple."

"I have you."

"Last thing I want to do is come back..."

Sam places his hand on my shoulder, and I open my eyes, bringing me back to reality. I look at his face, seeing the concern in his eyes. "Five, are you ready?"

Sarah laughs. "Five's always ready."

"Have you... got it?" Janine asks.

"She always comes prepared."

"You know," Amelia says, looking out at the open gates that are clear of zombies, "I think this is a rather good idea. Why not do this properly? The Ministry was very willing to supply the guards to keep the area clear, especially given the very useful leads you've been able to give us about Comansys. Yes, it sends the right message. They have to draw up a quick memo about it when we get back."

"We don't bother with memos, do we, Five?"

"Do you know where we're going?" Jody questions, brushing back a small strand of hair from her face.

"When do we ever?"

Paula looks down sadly. "She was a good person."

"Sometimes."

Owen nods. "She showed me the ropes, bruskly."

"That's the way you needed them shown."

"She hunted down murderers and torturers," Louise says.

"When I had to."

"She died saving a lot of us," Janine says, her voice sounding clogged. She closes her eyes for a short second, and I know it's an attempt to keep from crying.

"Careful, Janine," She says in amusement. "Save some for later."

Sam's hand leaves my shoulder, and I feel a bit colder. "This is it then. I've got the ashes. We've got the map of where she wanted them scattered. New Canton is keeping our path clear. Are we ready to go?"

Everyone nods and gives a word of confirmation, and I find myself doing the same. I sound so... lifeless-dull. No one notices it though.

"One thing I've learned, Five, is no matter when you go, you're never, ever ready."

"Let's go," I whisper, and we run.

Our steps aren't very loud, but they pound into my head. It feels as if there's a weight on my shoulders. The weight of the world-that's what most people say. I think the weight of grief is much heavier. It's been months, but right now, it feels as if it could've been yesterday.

I still remember it-her dying with me at her side. I remember the last smile she gave to the world that is nothing but chaos and pain. I remember that heart wrenching moment when Paula said, "She's gone."

I try not to show the pain on my face, and I can tell some of the others are doing the same. Of course, there are no smiles, but there are no tears either. I'm not sure Sarah would... would've, I guess we could say since she's dead-well, kind of dead since she still likes to speak to me... But I'm not sure she would've wanted us to cry over her.