Final Appeal
“There’s a bed table at my side and a boxy TV floating in the corner. Moonlight streams through the knit curtains, casting a slotted pattern on a narrow single bed. A hospital room. I lie there a minute, flat on my back, taking inventory. I am alive. I am safe. I wiggle everything, and everything works. I hold up my hands in the dark. There are bandages on some of my fingers. My face aches, the skin pinching like it doesn’t quite fit. I can only imagine what I look like. My fingers go instinctiv...ely to my cheeks. The surface is rough underneath, cottony. More bandages. I hear myself moan, remembering slowly how I got to be here. It comes back to me like a gruesome slide show, with hot white light blinding me between each freeze frame. Ben, entering with the gun. Click. The suicide note. Click. The cudgel at the window. Click. Independence Hall at my feet. Oh, God. Poor Ben. I hurt him, and he died a horrific, painful death. And Armen, dead too. Even Faber, beaten to death. It’s too awful to dwell on.MoreLess
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