Dark Matter Swallowed
It all fell apart so rapidly that I nearly missed it. There was nothing left to do but run again and hide. I found a nice hole and just stayed there for a very, very long time. Until I felt ... I don't know. Safe is a ridiculous word. I'll never be that. Gone or dead are my only options now. I felt 'gone'. I feel gone. Hoping.
They have it all, whomever it was that found us. But this is all old news and sometimes I can pretend it wasn't real. I have become someone else and the other two mes are gone. Work, gone. Friends and associates, gone. Resources and contacts, gone. Not gone are the millions of reasons some very smart and powerful people want me dead. Not gone, knowledge and the creations in my mind that they would love to get from me. Not gone, fear. It has been allowed to dwindle over these several years.
Something recent brought me out of hiding. For the first time in forever, I was moved to help someone. Drama is hard to ignore. Nauseous compassion.
I saw some men run off the road while I was out watching the sunset, taking photos of birds and shit. I saw the whole thing from my vantage point, even took photos.
One car screeches to a stop and a guy gets out. He starts shooting a gun at a second car that comes around a blind turn. That second driver hits the breaks and there's smoke and glass and bullets flying all over the place as they return fire. Driver in the first car floors it in reverse and rams them off the road and down the gully. His friend is still shooting as he gets to the edge of the road, looking down at the wreck. He fires a couple more times and yells "Rich says f*ck you and die." He gets back in his car and they are gone.
I sit there in my blind for a while wondering what I should do, if anything. I take a peek through my telephoto, snap a shot. I climb down, 30 or so meters plus the ten from my perch. I have an ounce of humanity left, I guess.
I am close enough to hear the hiss and tick of the metal and smell fuel, and I wonder if the whole thing is going to blow us all to hell. I think I mumbled just that when the driver says something I don't understand. He has managed to drag himself partially out of the car, which is wedged sideways in the trees. He is stuck in the brush and just laying there, breathing hard. The other one is still in his seat belt and looks dead but then he opens his eyes for a sec.
The passenger is most in need so I climb inside. That is when I hear the phone, still in the hand of the passenger. Someone is yelling, "goddammit, what's happening?" I tell him his friends need help and tuck it into the passenger's pocket, still on.
I feel bad about leaving them, but they have guns and badges and someone trying to kill them. Not my kind of party. I apply what little first aid I can and hang around until I heard sirens. I wonder if they will live? Is it care of curiosity?
Oh, I also left the SD card.
They have it all, whomever it was that found us. But this is all old news and sometimes I can pretend it wasn't real. I have become someone else and the other two mes are gone. Work, gone. Friends and associates, gone. Resources and contacts, gone. Not gone are the millions of reasons some very smart and powerful people want me dead. Not gone, knowledge and the creations in my mind that they would love to get from me. Not gone, fear. It has been allowed to dwindle over these several years.
Something recent brought me out of hiding. For the first time in forever, I was moved to help someone. Drama is hard to ignore. Nauseous compassion.
I saw some men run off the road while I was out watching the sunset, taking photos of birds and shit. I saw the whole thing from my vantage point, even took photos.
One car screeches to a stop and a guy gets out. He starts shooting a gun at a second car that comes around a blind turn. That second driver hits the breaks and there's smoke and glass and bullets flying all over the place as they return fire. Driver in the first car floors it in reverse and rams them off the road and down the gully. His friend is still shooting as he gets to the edge of the road, looking down at the wreck. He fires a couple more times and yells "Rich says f*ck you and die." He gets back in his car and they are gone.
I sit there in my blind for a while wondering what I should do, if anything. I take a peek through my telephoto, snap a shot. I climb down, 30 or so meters plus the ten from my perch. I have an ounce of humanity left, I guess.
I am close enough to hear the hiss and tick of the metal and smell fuel, and I wonder if the whole thing is going to blow us all to hell. I think I mumbled just that when the driver says something I don't understand. He has managed to drag himself partially out of the car, which is wedged sideways in the trees. He is stuck in the brush and just laying there, breathing hard. The other one is still in his seat belt and looks dead but then he opens his eyes for a sec.
The passenger is most in need so I climb inside. That is when I hear the phone, still in the hand of the passenger. Someone is yelling, "goddammit, what's happening?" I tell him his friends need help and tuck it into the passenger's pocket, still on.
I feel bad about leaving them, but they have guns and badges and someone trying to kill them. Not my kind of party. I apply what little first aid I can and hang around until I heard sirens. I wonder if they will live? Is it care of curiosity?
Oh, I also left the SD card.
posted by Ginni at 12:46 PM
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