Kieran floated in liminality for some time—not quite asleep, and not quite awake. The alcohol swirled through his veins, giving him no sleep. He could not remember the last time he had allowed himself to become as drunk as this. 

His mind raced—images of Aura, the evening, the face of the man he had killed, all mixed together. One amorphous being. And behind it, behind it all, the jagged mountains. Those that loomed light shadows upon Apex. So close, and so far. 

He had read their names in a book one. [i]Cascadia[/i]. An impassable region. Where once any family could easily cross in a few hours.

Now? It was suicide. Dense, thick forests. Glacial planes. It would be a journey without a way back no matter if they crossed over or died in the brutal cold.

Kieran’s eyes shot open and his body out of bed. He panted in his cold sweat for just a moment, before his eyes looked down.

And saw the empty makeshift bed, and knew exactly what had happened. 

The laptop, the plan…all gone. Gone with Aura. 

And funny enough? 

He didn’t feel the least bit angry. 

** ** 

Kieran took a few moments getting ready to head out. 

He splashed his face was cold water, and pulled on a typical dark, long coat for him. He laced his boots and pushed his worn body through the door.

He moved automatically—without knowing where he was going or what he was doing.

As he turned to close the door, his hands clasped around strands of hair. He jumped at first, dropping the bundle in the dark to the ground. But as he bent down to pick it up, he knew exactly what he held.

And couldn’t help but laugh. Quietly at first, but then, so loud he could feel the echo bounce from shipping container to shipping container. Throughout the muck of Port Apex.

“A meeting with the gods,” he muttered to himself.

After this, he pocketed the bundle and moved towards the only source of comfort he had on in this wretched place.

A crane—one of only a few—still standing beyond what had ended the old world. Its bending metal upon its base showed that its days were numbered, but he couldn’t help but climb it again and again as a kid.

Up here, ages ago, he had met Honeyman for the first time. He received his first mission here and had even shared his first kiss right at the top. 

As he climbed the rusted staircase and rose higher and higher into the night sky, he couldn’t shake the overwhelming feeling that he was climbing it for the last time.

And truthfully, he was.

As he reached the top—some two hundred feet into the air—he turned to see the Apex skyline.

It was a funny thing, really. A mix of antiquated buildings and wretched amalgamations that Apex Authority had attempted to construct. But without the technology of the old world, the best they could make were abominations—writhing from the ground level of Apex and standing alongside towers crumbling and bent with the wind.

He wondered what this place used to be like. His mom had told him the name once when he was young. On the night he was sent off to this place. He had tried to remember it as he drank with Aura earlier that evening, but it came clearly now to him.

[i]Seattle.[/i] That was it. He wondered what it had meant.

Whatever it was, of course, it wasn’t much these days. But maybe that could change. Maybe he was venture off to the east and one day hear stories about what came of Apex. 

But all these thoughts faded into the howling wind as he heard a gun click, and cold end of a pistol touch his temple.

“They told me to go right to your home,” Honeyman said, his voice cracking. “But I knew I’d be dead before I got the door open. So I waited. I would have shot the girl too, if I had better confidence in my aim.”

Kieran quelled the tension in his gut and turned to face his former mentor.

Honeyman looked the same as he did just a few days prior when they had last spoken. His floppy hair seemed to whistle in the wind. Nothing looked different but his eyes. Red and puffy, they avoided Kieran’s gaze and shot daggers into the metal scaffolding below them. 

“You’re going away with her?”

Kieran thought for a moment, then:

“Yes.”

“I figured as such. With the way she sliced her hair off. You don’t do that unless you’re dead either way.”

“Why are we still talking?” Kieran asked. He spoke calmer than he thought he could. “Do what you’ve got to do.”

“K, please,” Honeyman shot back. “We both know only one of us is climbing down those steps. The least we can do is talk.”

Kieran kept searching for his eyes, but Honeyman hid them—holding his pistol high to his face, making Kieran stare down the barrel. The gun shivered in his hands, and his fingers dripped with sweat.

“Let’s take a walk then, huh?” Honeyman offered. Without awaiting his response, he gestured with his pistol out to the scaffolding that lined the top spine of the crane. As he complied and paced out towards the ocean, he felt Honeyman’s heavy footfalls pace behind him, almost in synchronicity. 

Together they walked out over the black, lapping waters two hundred feet below. To the edge of the crane that dangled over oblivion. 

Kieran placed a hand on the ice-cold guardrail at the end of the line. He turned again to face the barrel.

“What gave us away?” he asked.

“Only two people know your password for the black seal. You, and me. I have to say, you got sloppy. I trained you better than that.”

“Circumstances changed quickly,” Kieran replied.

“So did alliances, I assume,” shot back Honeyman.

A moment of silence between the two of them passed. 

“So is this your ticket into A?” Kieran asked. “Turning me in?”

“Turning you in, yes,” Honeyman. “Killing you gets me to B. I’ll settle for B.” 

Kieran couldn’t help but laugh. And funny enough, Honeyman joined in.

“How did you let it go this far?” he then asked, his tone suddenly, sharply dark. 

And to be honest, Kieran didn’t have much of an answer for that. A short time ago he had a system, a plan. The means to survive. 

But as he looked past the barrel of the gun, past Honeyman, and the crane, and the city skyline…towards the distant mountains and their apexes illuminated by the night sky, he realized something.

Should Aura come back, and should they make it out alive, he wouldn’t have the means to survive. 

He’d had a reason to hope.

And as he looked back to Honeyman, the man between him and the mountains, they locked eyes once again.

And suddenly, Kieran understood.

His chest panged, and before he knew it, he was crying. 

“Hey now,” Honeyman said. “No reason to cry, K. They’ll treat you well before your execution.”

“I’m sure,” he eked out. His voice cracked and moaned with the crane. “And you’ll like A. Pretentious lot they are. You’ll fit right in.”

The wind howled again at them. Honeyman’s pistol was shaking even stronger. Kieran watched as he placed his finger on the trigger. Then Kieran widened his stance. 

“How much time will I have?” Kieran asked. 

“Hours, at best,” Honeyman replied. “Aim to be out by noon. That’s when they’ll be ready for you.”

Kieran’s face burned with a white-hot rage. “Is that all you’re worth to them?” he asked. “[i]Hours?[/i]”

“Nevermind it, boy,” Honeyman nearly whispered. “It doesn’t matter now.”

The two men swayed. And for eternity the world stood still.

[b]“K…do it.”[/b]

And so he did.

A shot rang out just past Kieran’s left ear as he pushed the pistol out of his way. And in one foul motion, Honeyman was tossed into oblivion.

The sounds of the wind and waves hid his crash into the sea. 

And one man descended the scaffolding with a pistol in his hand, alone.

** ** 

Kieran returned home and feigned sleep a while longer—still in his clothes underneath the covers. He awaited for Aura’s return, and couldn’t help but feel relief as the door opened and Aura returned to bed. 

He waited another twenty minutes before sitting up. 

As he searched with his eyes towards her side of the room, he could see Aura’s sleeping form resting on the floorboards, beneath the sheets. Sharp-edged yellow hairs stuck out from the sleeping form. Absentmindedly, he twirled the black strands still is his pocket as he watched. 

He rose silently and began to gather a few things—rations he had stolen from armed men. Tablets designed to purify water until they arrived at glacier-fed rivers. Things light enough not to cause suspicion but good enough to use until they could find items to survive on the other end of town. 

There was a whole city between them and the mountains, he thought to himself.

He did make one exception, however. He opened a small drawer by his bed, and moved a few belongings aside. 

Underneath it all was a handful of chocolates. 

[i]If we survive to next week,[/i] he thought to himself, [i]at least she’ll have some chocolates.[/i]

** ** 

He waited as long as he could until the sun began to shine into the room, before opening a wayward curtain and shining the right directly upon Aura.

He waited until she moved, then rose, and finally, made eye contact with him. 

It was apparent that both of them had had what was possibly the worst night of their lives. Her eyes shone from recent grief, just as his did. 

“Good morning,” he said. He didn’t wait for a response.

“You probably already know this, but…” he trailed off, thinking for a nice way of phrasing it. 

But then again, there wasn’t really a good way to phrase it, was there?

[b]“I think it’s time we left Apex. For good.”[/b]