Something Else

Equals

"What?" I breathe. I can hardly lift my voice enough to speak a question. It whooshes through my lips like a sudden wind; whhhhhat.

"How did he know!?" Via furrows her eyebrows. I've never seen her confused before.

"Know what?" There's that wind again.

"That we were fake! He never would have given this to a real nurse, that would be suicide!" Confused, I tilt my head. Via shoots me an exasperated look. "Think about it. Use your brain for one second!"

Ignoring her comment, I run the scenario through mentally. Old man hands nurse a note calling out one of Euphoria's most valued establishments. Even worse, encouraging her to break the rules and search for an unexplained "floor zero." He looks at her with crazed eyes as she clutches the bloody fabric. This place. Prison. I can see it now. The click of a button. The snap of a needle somewhere deep in the back of his neck. Click-snap. The sound of death.

But no. Those eyes were more than crazed. Somewhere deep within them, a spark of hope swirled in the delirium. The note was a death sentence, yes, but the words were written anyway. The right person might be haunted by those sentences. They might stay up at night, thinking of prisons and elevators. Long after his body had rotted away and the thoughts had stretched and swirled for long enough, the right person might even go looking for an answer.

What kind of person would that be? What kind of person would lose hours of sleep, lost in the folds of his mystery? A stoic nurse with graying hair and a stone-faced grimace? Or maybe, just maybe, a jumpy intern with nervous eyes, stumbling in late to use the bathroom.

Click-snap. Darkness caves in and an old man's final thought is maybe. Just maybe.

I wonder what he's thinking now. Is he still waiting for us to turn him in? For the final prick of death?

Click-snap.

Snap.

Snap.

Snap! Via claps her hands in front of my face, vying for my attention.

"Stay with me, Mills. It doesn't matter if he was an ally, he still saw through our disguise. If some old man could figure us out than so could anyone else. Was it the uniforms? Do they look fake, put together? Was our walk not practiced enough? Was-"

"Stop," I order. "He didn't know."

Her eyes widen, taken aback. I've never imposed my opinion like this before. For the first time, I've figured out something she hasn't. I'm almost giddy with the thought of it.

"So it was suicide then?"

"Yes." I expect her to brush it off and keep inspecting her plan for flaws, but she doesn't. In some strange way, I'm less of a Levorian than her, and she knows it.

Via sighs. "So I guess this note is meaningless. Just the raving of some old-"

"No," I almost laugh. How does she not see? His eyes! They were gleaming, dripping with rotting hope. My thoughts turn sour. What happened to this girl to make her lose sight of hope? How dare this world take it from her! Anger pulses then subsides in my chest. "He knew exactly what he was doing. There's nothing meaningless about it," I finish sofly. No sounds dare to echo back.

Silence. Screaming, searing silence.

For a moment, I see a change in Via. She looks at me, not as a naive burden, but as an equal with unique opinions. Carefully, she assesses my expression. "You're sure," She says. She doesn't phrase it as a question, simply a statement. I'm sure.

I am sure.

"Well then. What do we do?" She asks, her voice soft, genuine.

Did I just hear that? Something strange bubbles up in me at the question. For once, she's looking at me for direction. Again, I feel as if I'm catching a glimpse of some other person, one with equals, friends even.

What kind of life would that person lead? I glance at her crimson hair, the spiked shadows cast on her cheeks by long, feathery eyelashes. Beautiful is not a word I'd use to describe her, nor something she'd ever strive to be. Somehow though, there's no face I'd have replace hers, no voice I'd rather hear.

"I think," I say, looking her dead in the eyes. "I think we go look for an elevator."

She nods her head. We stand there in the hallway, staring at each other. Somehow, I can't seem to look away. She takes a sharp breath in through her nose and I can almost see her mind whirling.

"Okay," she says, still not breaking eye contact. Euphoria, I need to stop. Look away, it's been too long. This is weird. Weird.

Good weird- something whispers.

In a second's time, a cascade of emotions pass over Via. Confusion, fear, anger, and one I can't quite place. Then, almost like mechanical doors shutting, a familiar cold curtain slams down in front of her. She blinks and looks down, not in a shy, embarrassed way, but a stern and determined one. She shakes off my gaze like a fly on her skin.

"Are we going or not?" She calls, already three steps down the hallway.