They continue their journey through the forest in the car. They drive upriver to the calm spot in the river Synth found and cross it. The water reaches the car's bumper, but the weight of the tank helps them keep traction on the riverbed. Realizing that they must pass through the mountains, Epsilon does their best to guide him to an area that used to be a road. Synth is very nervous driving through the old mountain pass.
"So, are these the mountains that Yonge was talking about?" Synth asks.
"No, these are the Banff Mountains," Epsilon says. "Although beautiful, since they are not near a coastline, they do not have the same climate effects as the North Shore Mountains do."
"Oh."
Synth tenses up. He thought the journey ended here; he wanted to tell Epsilon that they should settle here. Nothing is stopping him. But he made a promise to himself. Despite his stinging urge to break it, he chooses to stay silent.
They continue through the mountains across eroding roads with ancient guardrails. There are a few moments where the car gets too close to the edge, and a rotting guard rail post falls off the side of the road down the side of the mountain. After another three hours of driving, Synth stops the car near a small lake at the foot of a mountain. He pedals the generator for ten minutes, unplugs Epsilon and puts them on the car's hood. He steps out, looks at the mountain, and takes a moment to savour its beauty.
"They were here before your species reigned, and they will be here long after you are gone." Epsilon comments.
"They are magnificent." Synth says, taken aback.
"They are yours for the taking."
"You've said that several times, and the more I hear it, the more I disagree with it."
"What do you mean?"
"The world is not 'mine' or anyone else's. As you said about the mountain, it was here before us, and it will be here after us. Yes, I'm the last of my species, and I am free to do what I want, but you say it like I have dominion over this world, which is not true. I am merely one of the many animals bound to this planet that lives off its resources."
"I see the flaw in my sentence structure."
"But it is strange to think that I am alone in this world. I... I'm alone... again."
Saying the words causes Synth's perception to warp. The world suddenly feels more vast and empty. In his mind, it is no longer restricted to just the cities he's seen or the roads he's taken. He feels smaller than the ants crawling around his feet and begins to feel lightheaded. He has mentioned it before, but he has never stopped completely to think about it.
"Synth, Listen to me," Epsilon says, seeing Synth begin to wobble. "You may be the last of the species, but you are not alone. You have me. I may not be human, but I care about you."
Synth breaks out of the trance he was in.
"No, you're right." Synth says. "Thanks, Epsilon. I think I'm going to call it for the day. This place seems as good as any."
"I agree." Epsilon concours.
Synth takes the rest of the day to pour water from the lake into the tank and gathers firewood. He cooks some more deer that night. It does not take long for him to fall asleep.
Synth is climbing a mountain. He is close to the summit, but the mountain grows whenever he tries to climb higher. He hears the barking of wolves all around him. He feels the heat of a flame on his left cheek, and his right leg feels as though it is being pulled apart. He screams at the top of his lungs, but only a faint high-pitched squeak comes out. It is snowing heavily, and his arms are turning black with frostbite. He looks at the top of the Mountain and sees Yonge with the rifle pointed at him. He tries to climb down, but his hands and feet are stuck to the mountain.
"Hey, Synth!" Yonge shouts as the winds howl louder. "Maybe I'll hit my target, and only my target!"
As he loads the rifle, Yonge starts growing bigger; no wait, Synth is shrinking smaller, he gets smaller and smaller as Yonge laughs while pointing the gun at him.
"No matter what the bot tells you or what you tell yourself, YOU KILLED ME...." Yonge shouts, "...and there is nothing you can do change that!"
Epsilon hears Synth moaning in his sleep and comes online. Synth is rocking and jerking, his heart rate is elevated, and his muscles are tense. Epsilon determines that Synth is having a nightmare. Synth briefly talks in his sleep.
"Nnno, Yonge, don't, I'm szorry." He mutters.
Epsilon realizes something; although Synth thinks he believes Yonge's death was not his fault, his subconscious is not letting him let go of his guilt. His guilt may also be taking the form of Yonge, which gives Epsilon an idea. He starts playing certain frequencies of white noise. Not enough to wake him up completely, but enough that sounds and other sensations can influence his dream. Epsilon then compiles Yonge's voice recordings and starts to talk in his voice.
Meanwhile, in Synth's dream, he is now smaller than a snowflake, and Yonge brings the barrel right down in front of Synth. The massive barrel seems like a black hole to Synth.
"Time to say goodbye to your pathetic little life... Murderer!" Yonge shouts with malicious satisfaction.
Synth cries frozen tears as Yonge pulls the trigger. He closes his eyes and wakes up in a field, lying on the ground. Yonge is standing nearby, looking at the sunset.
"Hey, You're awake!" Epsilon says in Yonge's voice.
Yonge offers Synth his hand to help him up. His environment feels unreal. More unreal than any of his other dreams.
"Hey, listen, I'm sorry. Before you turn...." Synth begins.
"I'm not going to turn into a monster, don't worry." The pseudo-Yonge says.
In the dream, Yonge is wearing jeans and a red flannel shirt over a grey t-shirt, and Synth is wearing his old IZed t-shirt and sweatpants.
"I hear you've been going through some tough times." The pseudo-Yonge continues.
"Epsilon's told me several times that your death wasn't my fault, but no matter how hard I try, I can never let go." Synth responds, unaware of Epsilon's influence. "Somehow, I feel I think I could have done something different."
"Listen, life is full of moments you want to change. You did what you thought was right. Right?"
"Yes."
"Then that's all that matters. Look, if you hadn't taken the shot, the wolf would've killed me. It was a lose-lose situation from the start, and you can blame yourself for that. Do you understand?"
"I do, it's just... I miss you so much."
"I know."
Synth hugs Yonge tightly. They hold each other tight in front of the twilight, and Synth cries.
"I thought I didn't know the way without you." Synth says.
"I may have understood the road, but you knew the way." The pseudo-Yonge says. "I've seen it in your eyes ever since Winnipeg. You'll do fine without me."
"But it's not the same without you."
"It's not supposed to be. Life changes in ways you never expect. It's how we adapt that defines who we are."
"I suppose."
"It's gonna hurt like a bitch for a while, but it'll be okay. It's time for me to go."
"Can we just take one more moment to look at the sunset?"
"Sure."
They stand, arms wrapped around each other and watch as the sun reaches the horizon.
"I love you." Synth says, looking up into Yonge's beautiful green eyes one last time.
"I love you too," Yonge says, looking upon Synth's face for the last time. "I will always love you."
Synth kisses Yonge as the sun sinks below the horizon, and then Yonge is gone. Synth stands alone in the field as the stars come out. He sleeps calmly through the rest of the night. Snow falls gently on the car as he sleeps.
The next morning Synth wakes up feeling better than he has all week. The car is dark as snow has covered the windshield and windows. He powers up Epsilon.
"Good morning," Epsilon says. "How did you sleep last night?"
"Better than usual, which feels good." Synth answers.
Synth opens the door. The sky is clear once again, but there is a healthy foot of snow on the ground. He puts on his jacket and steps outside, stretching his stiff muscles. The day is cold but clear. Ice has begun to form on the lake.
"I'm gonna stretch my legs before we get going." Synth says. "If I'm not back in about an hour, you're the last sentient being on this planet."
Synth tucks his jumpsuit legs into his boots and trudges through the fluffy snow. He exhales the stuffy air of the car and breathes in the cool fresh air of his pristine environment. A flock of local birds flies overhead. He feels different this morning. Like a massive weight that he was aware of but did not care to notice was lifted from his shoulders. He feels the weight of the snow pulling on his boots and welcomes the challenge along his way forward. The pain that once dominated his shoulders now resides in the bottom of his stomach. He knows that it will never leave, but he no longer fears it. For the first time in a while, he feels good. He no longer feels the need to punish himself for his actions. For once, he can savour the day without feeling guilty for living it. He makes his way to the edge of the forest and puts his hand on the trunk of a pine tree. He feels the intricate bumps and lines in the bark and the different joints where branches left the trunk to develop their own patterns, joints, and branches. He admires the impressive architecture of the tree and appreciates the work it put into surviving this long.
"I forgive you." Synth whispers to himself.
At last, Synth releases his pain and pent-up grief. He cries once more, leaning onto the tree for support. There is no one to blame, not even himself. He has finally come to terms with this. His cold tears sting his dry skin. The tears are no longer of hatred for himself and the world. His body quivers as he weeps tears of love, tears of acceptance, and the last tears of pain. He allows himself to feel whatever comes, for he knows that it is alright. He accepts that he will continue the journey without the man he loves. He recognizes that he can do it. As the last tears fall, he feels different. The same man that went to sleep in 2732 but better, stronger, better equipped to handle the world before him. He lets go of the tree. His hand is somewhat sticky with sap. Then he takes his time walking back to the car, taking time once again to appreciate his journey. It is not over, but he is ready to face what remains. Finally, he sees the car.
"You were gone an hour and three minutes. I was beginning to get worried." Epsilon says.
"This is where the word 'about' comes into play." Synth says, chuckling as the last tears dry.
"I see."
"Epsilon, I think I've been seeing this journey the wrong way."
"How so?"
"When I made the vow, it was all about completing Yonge's journey, doing everything for Yonge. But that shouldn't be why I do this."
"Well, then why are we continuing this journey?"
"Because after all this talk, I want to see these mountains for myself. I want to build a life in this climatological Elysium that you spoke of. The point is, I'm going to continue the journey because I want to, rather than because I feel I owe it to Yonge."
"I think that is a good way of looking at it."
"I'll gather some firewood and fill the tank. It's a new day, time to take advantage of it."
Synth spends the rest of the day gathering supplies. He feels lighter and more excited than before. As he continues about his day, he feels that he can put more weight on his right leg and that he is able to take the regeneration strips off his back. He is buzzing around the car like a hummingbird.
"Hey, I noticed last night that your book is in the glovebox in case you were interested," Epsilon says, as Synth works.
Synth pauses at the bitter-sweet memories associated with that book. But he thinks:
"You know what? It's just a book. It can do anything worse than what has already happened to me."
"Thanks, Epsilon." Synth says. "I almost forgot about it."
The car has a backseat full of firewood, a tank full of melting snow. Synth and Epsilon do some final checks and adjustments to the car. As Synth sits down in the driver's seat, his armour of optimism begins to chink. He feels anxious about the road ahead. His whole life, he has always clung to the pain of his past like a blanket that shields him from vulnerability. But it's all out in the open now. He has let go of the blanket and let it blow away in the wind. He feels chills all over his body.
"Are you ready to go?" Epsilon asks.
"I think so." Synth answers.
"Do not worry. I know the road."
"And I know the way."
Synth opens the valves and drives away.