The Fading (23 page)

‘Something else,’ the cop mumbled, shaking his head as he backed away a few steps and looked up to the sky.

Snowflakes. Three or four and then ten breaking away from a flock of others, cupped by the breeze, spinning, drawing into
the pocket of air between two men.

M. Sylvester’s eyes caught on them, following as the cluster spread and met flat resistance at Noel’s chest. He blinked, and
looked Noel up and down with fascination bordering on disbelief. All but snarling, he took one step forward and slapped at
the air, except in this case the air turned out to be Noel’s shoulder and the slap of hand against parka echoed dully. The
force wasn’t much, but the surprise of it caused Noel to stumble, gasping as he fell on his ass, disturbing the snow blanket.

‘What the shit!’ Officer M. Sylvester ducked back and away, withdrawing his hand as if he had touched fire. ‘What in the shit!’

Panic erupted. Noel shuffled back on his elbows, kicking, a flurry of movement flinging the snow in all directions. The cop’s
eyes bulged and he jumped to the side, hopping in clumsy steps as Noel struggled to his feet, lifting and trailing clods of
snow. His breathing was that of a man who has just sprinted the forty-yard dash, and the cop heard it all.

‘Don’t move! Stay right there! How’d you do that?’ M. Sylvester shouted, one hand on his holster, the other jabbing at Noel,
palm faced out. ‘Who are you? What is this?’

Noel wanted to scream
stop, don’t do this, please stop!
, but he knew better than to speak. His experience with Julie and Lisa at age fourteen had taught him that.

Instead, equally unwisely, he continued to scramble away, punching new holes in the snow with his invisible boots, waiting
to find out if the cop was actually going to draw the weapon before he turned and ran for his life.

Officer M. Sylvester came at him like a man trying to corner a rattlesnake, unsure whether to trap it or kill it. Leaping
forward a few steps, halting, eyes darting up and down, trying to get a mental hold on what he was witnessing.

‘I see you, fucker, Jesus Christ, don’t move, don’t move!’

The holster snapped open and M. Sylvester’s thick hand slapped at the butt of the gun, groping for it without taking his eyes
off Noel’s multiplying tracks.

‘No!’ Noel finally barked. ‘No, no, no!’ The gun flipped a switch inside him and he went from scared to furious and flat-out
terrified. All he was trying to do was go get her fucking pills, take a fucking walk across town, and now the possibility
of the gun equaled the certain end of his life.

The cop froze at the sound of his voice, mouth open, awestruck.

There was no time. Sylvester would not stay frozen
for long. Noel saw no other choice, didn’t consider but this one.

He ran full-tilt, lowering his shoulder and screaming just before he slammed into the man’s chest. The top of Noel’s head
connected with M. Sylvester’s red-bearded chin, snapping his head back. Noel toppled forward (or was dragged down) as the
cop landed on his back. He tried to shove off and run but Sylvester had a hold of his jacket and they fought against each
other, a sliding tangle of limbs and shouts.

M. Sylvester’s right arm sprang free, waving the gun.

Noel leaped to the side, reaching for the arm, wrestling it like a fire hose. Something hard and strong slammed into his ribs
once, twice, slugging him with breathtaking force, and then his right ear went numb as the punches were thrown higher. Ears
ringing, dizzy and coughing, he fell on the gun and rolled, pinning the arm for a moment before it sunk deeper into the snow.

M. Sylvester scrambled away empty-handed. Noel felt something hard like a rock against his chest, rolled off to find it was
the gun. Things were out of control, he only wanted to stop this before someone got hurt. He clawed into the snow, got the
gun in hand, but not its grip. He might have been holding it sideways when the policeman withdrew his baton and lunged, striking
the air, then Noel, repeatedly. The wooden club smacked against Noel’s back, ribs, a shoulder blade, and Noel heaved himself
across the snow, rolling and rolling as the cop knee-walked after him, grunting, shouting, cursing as the black stick came
down on Noel’s hip with a sharp
crack. He screamed in agony and rolled onto his back, preparing to surrender. He raised his fists to block the next blow,
the gun turning on the ‘air’ of his invisible hands.

Sylvester got one foot under him, and lashed out again, striking Noel in the forearm. The pain was a lightning bolt spearing
up his arm, through his neck and jaw, and shot boomed between them.

The cop rocked back on his knees as his neck opened at the throat. A spume of dark blood arced forth, splattering the snow
and Noel’s legs. After the first few heavy spurts the surge filled the wider wound and drained down the cop’s jacket in a
sheet. He reached for his throat, choking on his own blood, and the baton fell in his lap. He balanced on his knees for a
few seconds, then fell to his side, the blue-clothed body coughing and thrashing violently. The snow piled up into his beard
and open mouth as the flowing red melted a small canyon down through the white powder.

By the time Noel threw the gun aside and crawled over to turn the man on his back, removing his parka to use one of the sleeves
as a compress, Officer M. Sylvester’s teary eyes were glazed over and did not blink as more flakes caught on their lashes,
shrinking with the body’s evacuating heat until they dripped and flowed into the sockets like reversed tears.

‘Julie! Open up!’ Noel beat an invisible fist against Julie’s front door.

A female voice called from the other side, growing louder as she neared. ‘… are you
still
sleeping? There’s a man. He’s yelling.’

‘Julie! Open the—’

The door was yanked open, but it wasn’t Julie who stood glaring at him, then frowning in confusion when she realized there
was no ‘him’ here. This girl was taller, with highlighted brown hair, the bulging lip-jaw orthodontia of a child sucking on
a wedge of orange after a soccer game, and blocky black-framed glasses. With the navy skirt, matching blazer, hose and heels,
she had the affect of someone’s stern mother, and maybe that was the kind of roommate she was. Marna. Probably on her lunch
break.

He didn’t have time for a proper introduction.

‘Julie!’ Noel called past her, and Marna yelped in surprise, her glasses slipping down her nose. He pushed past her and she
yelped again as he bumped her against the door. ‘Where is she?’ he bawled, forging on through the living room, into the kitchen.

Julie staggered out of her bedroom, bleary-eyed. ‘What? Why are you shouting?’

‘Here’s your pills,’ Noel said, and a small brown prescription bottle with a white cap spun into existence, planting itself
in Julie’s hand. He released her wrist, took the other and slapped her keys into the other palm. ‘I need a ride. Right now.’

Julie said, ‘Why’d it take you so long? I was worried—’

‘It’s an emergency, trust me on that. Can you drive or should I ask Marna?’

Marna had pinned herself to the wall and was fumbling her glasses, these things that might have just played a nasty trick
on her. Hearing her name, she gave up and looked to Julie as if a ghost had just tickled her under the chin. Her mouth opened
but all that came out was a little squeak.

‘It’s not what it looks like,’ Julie said to Marna. ‘I can explain.’

‘I … I’m late for work.’ Marna shimmied over to the coffee table, snatched up her purse and bolted out the door.

Julie stared after her numbly, probably calculating how her next conversation with her roommate might go.

‘I’m in deep shit,’ Noel said. ‘Take your pill and let’s go.’

Julie turned toward him, eyes searching.

‘Now!’ Noel yelled, and she jumped.

‘Okay, okay, my coat.’ She ran into her room. ‘Where’s my coat? My keys?’

‘I put them in your hand,’ Noel said.

‘You drove? How did you drive?’

‘I took a chance. I couldn’t afford to walk all the way back. You needed your pills and I need to get home. The police are
looking for me. Or will be soon.’

She came out of her bedroom, hopping on one foot as she pulled the second boot on. ‘The police? What are you talking about?
What happened?’ Booted, she rushed toward the door. He caught her arm, pulled her back into the kitchen.

‘Take your medicine first.’

She did. They left.

‘It’s better if you don’t know,’ he told her in the car. She was driving fast up Baseline, after he told her to go the long
route, away from the park. ‘And slow down.’

‘You told me to hurry.’

‘Not so much that we get pulled over or crash.’

She slowed a bit and they barely made it through the yellow light at the 28th Street overpass. ‘Where do you live?’

‘On Canyon. Between eighteenth and nineteenth, but you’re gonna take Broadway down to that little hook that goes by the high
school so we can go in the back way.’ He doubted they would have any evidence or leads that could point to him so soon, but
that didn’t matter. He needed to sneak in and get out fast.

Julie focused on the road, hands twitching around the wheel. ‘Why can’t you tell me? You can trust me.’

‘This is bad, Julie. Really fucking bad.’

‘Are you hurt?’

‘Someone else is.’

She moaned. ‘It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have let you go.’

‘I got sloppy, wasn’t thinking. I got trapped, and there were other ways I could’ve handled that. None of this is your fault.’

‘I’m so sorry,’ she said. ‘What are you going to do? You shouldn’t be alone, not while you’re still …’

‘I have to be.’

‘You can’t drive. Let me stay with you, at least until it stops.’

‘It’s never going to stop,’ he said.

‘Yes, it will. It will, right? I don’t have to know what happened. Just let me help.’

‘There’s always going to be another – watch the light!’

Julie hit the brakes and the brakes locked up. The road had been plowed but was still covered by half an inch of glossy, compacted
snow. They began to slide, the Honda’s rear end kicking to the left. The intersection of Broadway and College loomed like
a narrow doorway – braking cars on the left, a crosswalk about to be filled with students on the right, and one open but narrow
lane in the middle.

‘Let up, let up!’ he said. ‘Just go!’

‘Oh, my God!’ She traded brakes for gas.

The Honda righted itself. The light turned red. Noel reached across and jammed the horn. Students leaped out of the way as
the Honda sailed through and more
horns popped off around them. A lumbering dump truck braked in the intersection on Julie’s side and they missed being broadsided
by several tons of steel and sand, by inches.

‘Okay, okay, we’re okay,’ Noel said.

Julie was too rattled to speak.

‘Almost there,’ he said. ‘Easy does it. I’m sorry.’

A few blocks later she said, ‘What do you need at your apartment?’

‘Money. My truck.’

‘But where are you going?’

‘The mountains.’

‘“The mountains?”’ What, you’re going to live off the land?’

‘I don’t know! I’ll figure it out. Staying in Boulder is no longer an option. Not ever again.’

Julie stole a glance his way. ‘Did you – is someone …’
dead?

‘Yes.’

She didn’t ask him any more questions until they got to the apartment.

‘You can go now,’ he said as she nosed into the rear lot, back by the dumpsters and the tree-lined creek.

‘How much money do you have?’

‘Enough for a while.’

‘How much?’

‘I don’t need your money, Julie.’

‘How much!’

‘Sixteen, seventeen thousand.’

‘How did you—’

He cut her off. ‘I don’t have time for this.’

‘All right.’

He got out. She turned the engine off and followed.

‘No, uh-uh, back in the car.’

‘I’ll leave in five minutes,’ she said. ‘Or when you do. Just let me come inside for a minute.’

‘What for?’

‘I have to pee.’ She clenched her knees together.

Noel shook his head, not that she could see it, and let her follow.

‘Oh, my God,’ she said, covering her mouth.

‘What?’

He came back from the bathroom, where he had just fished the Ziploc baggie full of cash from the toilet’s tank, to find her
staring at his re-manifested clothing on the bedroom floor. One sleeve of the parka was streaked with blood. His pants and
socks were soaked with it.

Noel said, ‘Oh, shit, I almost forgot. I have to take a shower.’

‘A shower?’

‘If I reappear when someone’s around. I’m probably covered with that.’

Julie sat on his bed, dazed.

He came back and crouched, setting his hands on her knees.

‘Go home, Julie. Please. If you want to help me, forget what you’ve seen. I never found you the other night. You know nothing.’

‘I want to know what happened to you,’ she said.

‘What happened to me? Okay. This is what happened to me. It happened a long time ago, it’s happening now, and it’s going to
keep on happening as long as whatever this thing is wants me. I’m a fucking monster, Julie. There’s no other word for what
I am. I ruin lives.’

‘Don’t say that. It’s not your fault.’

‘No? How about, I took a walk through the park this morning and now a police officer is dead. That’s his blood, and he’s gone.
Now you need to leave before someone finds me and you get hurt, because I might be able to live with this, but I can’t live
with the next one getting hurt or killed being you. Do you understand?’

She didn’t respond.

‘Your mother is paralyzed because of what I am, and I can’t change that. But I can leave before it happens to you, too. I’m
going to shower now, then I’m going to put on clean clothes, line my car windows with trash bags, and pray I don’t get pulled
over before I get into the foothills. Now, be smart and go.’

She was crying again. He started to rise and head for the shower, but she found his hand and squeezed. He tried to pull away,
but she wouldn’t let go. She stared up at him, touching his face to locate him and speak with him.