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Ofcoursehe didn’t. I had student loans; my car was dead. I didn’t have a job, and at this rate, odds weren’t looking good for getting one. I couldn’t tell my boyfriend any of this or he’d dump me based on my lack of sanity. The only person that would’ve listened to me, who’d loved me in spite of all my faults, was dead, and even thinking of that made me want to crumble where I stood, so I forced that out of my mind. My life was falling apart quicker than cheap toilet paper in a rainstorm. So in spite of the toll guy hating me, I nodded.
“Sorry again about the touching. I promise I won’t do it again.”
The only sign that he’d heard was the slightest nod of his head. I walked to the spot he’d pointed to because he was the only way to get to the outpost.
I found a spot on the sidewalk and sat, getting as comfortable as possible. As if on cue, it began to rain.
The toll guy went into his little house as the rain began to pour down, plastering my hair to my face. I didn’t budge. I’d sit on that cement as long as I had to because this was the most peace I’d had in hours. I’d sleep here if I could.
Ten minutes went by, and he kept watching me through the window of his booth, making sure I hadn’t moved. Another minute, another check. This went on for about twenty minutes before he stepped out of his house with an umbrella and waved to me.
I walked over, stopping quite a bit short of him, afraid that an accidental brush of the hand that would send him into a rage. The two of us were already treading rough waters.
He stared at me in silence for a second as the rain made rivulets down my face. “It’s time for the bridge to open. You can go through as soon as it starts.”
“Thank you,” I said, as if I didn’t suspect he could’ve opened it as soon as I got here. I ignored the fact that he’d had an umbrella and had sat in his booth dry, not offering to lend it to me.
He nodded. I walked to the seam in the bridge, my entire being soaked, my bag dripping, and waited for it to start separating.
I’d thought I’d panic. Maybe I would’ve if I wasn’t in so much pain. Now cold and wet on top of it, I felt utterly defeated by life. At that moment, I might’ve leapt into the abyss if someone said it would help.
The bridge began to creak open, just an inch apart, and I took a step. For less than a second, I was in that all-obliterating black, and then I was standing in that strange lounge again, the pain completely gone. I sagged, taking a minute to appreciate the relief before I bothered to see if I was alone.
I wasn’t. Dice glanced up from where he’d been lounging on the couch, reading a gun magazine. He took one look at me and let out a short laugh.
“You actually lasted longer than I thought.” He looked at the clock. “Shit. Cookie won this one. Her ego is going to be bigger than this outpost soon.”
“You bet on when I’d come back?” I asked, dripping onto the floor while this guy laughed at me.
“Yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t we?”
I didn’t get a chance to answer, as Kaden walked in, holding a mug. He leaned on the back of the other couch, sipping his coffee or whatever it was, while taking me in with a slow perusal.
“Things not working out the way you planned?” There were a thousand I-told-you-sos wrapped up in that one sentence.
“No.” I stiffened so much my back cracked.
“You were so confident that you might be the first, I thought maybe you’d pull it off.”
Bullshit. He didn’t think I had a chance in hell. I bristled at his pokes and prods.
“Would you mind telling me what this place is and what is going on? Why am I getting sick?”
“You want to know now?” He sipped his coffee, making me say it.
“I just asked, did I not?”
Even when he smiled, he looked like a predator. I wasn’t sure if the chill that shot through me was from my being sopping wet or him.
“Your chemistry is changing. Until it’s completely transitioned, this is the only space you’ll be comfortable.”
“What do you mean, my chemistry?”
“Imagine you’re water.” He pointed to the door I’d come through. “There you freeze.” He pointed to another door on the other side of the lounge. “Go through that one and you boil. This is the only place that you can exist without doing either until you’ve transitioned into…something different—stronger, which neither boils or freezes. This is sort of a gray area, a buffer between Topside and Nowhere.”
He watched me as I absorbed it all, or as much as I could. Every time I came to grips with one situation, things seemed to get worse.
“Topside and Nowhere?” I asked. I dropped my dripping bag on the floor so I could use both hands to shove my wet hair out of my face and try to grasp what was going on.
