CHAPTER 3. The Zone of Alienation
1186 Words
Ron beside me gave a quiet huff, nudging me with his elbow under the table. He knew I was usually calmer, but today I was on edge. Every minute in this stifling room felt stolen.
«Alright, Walker,» the commander nodded. «We'll record it as a 'critical lag.' We'll reprogram the block by tomorrow morning. Dismissed.»
We stood up. The chairs scraped against the floor. I was the first to head for the exit, ignoring Ron's questioning look.
«Where are you rushing to, Hector?» he shouted at my back.
I drove slowly, not like my usual self. The road snaked past endless barrens where the shadows of cacti and the jagged ridges of distant mountains flickered amidst the orange sand. This was my territory. Harsh, silent, intolerant of the weak.
I swapped Beethoven for Sade. Her voice, smooth and viscous like evening mist, filled the cabin. I allowed myself to relax. I let the tension bleed out of my shoulders, giving vent to the feelings I had been shoving deep beneath my flight suit all day.
I pulled over near an old gas station and bought a glass of fresh-pressed juice; the icy liquid burned my throat pleasantly. I climbed out of the car, hopped onto the hood of the Mustang, and just froze, watching the sunset. The sky over the Mojave had turned into an inferno: gold bleeding into blood-red, then into a deep, bruised purple.
I thought about how I had lived my whole life for speed and for myself. I thought the sky was the ultimate meaning. Но sitting here now, I began to realize: life is damn beautiful when someone else appears in it. When meaning isn't found in altitude, but in the fact that someone is down there on the ground. So that there's a reason to return from every hellish sortie.
I pulled out my phone again. The screen was blank. No notifications, not a single missed call. Damn, why am I so anxious?
A slight sting of disappointment pierced my chest, colder than the ice in my juice. Maybe she got scared? Or maybe to her, I'm just some random passerby who tossed her some cash?
Then again, I am a stranger. She isn't obligated to call or ask how I am. Her caution is perfectly normal for a woman.
«Time to go home,» I said aloud to myself. «Don't go expecting miracles on the very first night.»
I jumped off the hood, crushed the empty cup, and cranked the engine. The Mustang gave a dissatisfied growl, as if sensing my mood. I flipped on the headlights, cutting through the encroaching dusk, and set a course for my empty «burrow.»
I entered the house without even turning on the main lights. The living room was bathed in semi-darkness, diluted only by the blue glow of the audio system's display. I pulled the phone from my pocket and, without looking, tossed it toward the sofa. The smartphone landed with a dull thud against the cushions - a dead, silent piece of plastic and glass. No one had called.
I didn't take off my T-shirt. I wanted to feel the fabric grow heavy and sticky; I wanted it to get in the way, fueling my irritation.
I walked over to the power rack in the corner of the room and gripped the dip bars. First, I just hung there, feeling my spine stretch after a long day in the cramped pilot's seat. My joints popped. I took a deep breath, forcing out thoughts of her. Of how Hal smiles. Of how they felt so close sitting in my car.
A sudden lurch - and I went up. One. Two. Ten.
I worked to the point of collapse. Pull-ups, wide grip, making my back burn. My arms turned to lead, my triceps quivered, but I didn't stop. I hammered my back and shoulders as if my life depended on it. Every movement was sharp, painful.
Twenty minutes later, I felt the sweat start to pour from beneath the dark fabric of my shirt. It darkened at my chest and back, soaked through with salt and heat. Drops rolled down my temples, stinging my eyes, but I only clenched my jaw tighter.
This was the essence of me. If the sky provides no answers, I seek them in exhaustion. When the muscles fail, the brain finally goes quiet. My head was no longer filled with her hair, her tears, or the scent of rain. There was only me, the bars, and the salty taste of sweat on my lips.
I dropped to the floor, breathing hard, leaning my hands on my knees. A few heavy drops fell from my shirt onto the laminate. I glanced toward the sofa. The phone screen was still black.
«To hell with you then, Shadow,» I rasped into the void of the room. «Fly alone. It was always easier that way.»
But my hand instinctively reached to wipe the sweat from my face, and my gaze kept returning to that spot on the sofa where my pass into her world lay.
I stepped into the shower, and the cool streams began to wash away my bitterness and heat. Right under the water, I stripped off the soaked T-shirt, discarded my pants and underwear, throwing them in a heap on the floor. I braced both hands against the tile, head hanging heavy. The water glided over my body like silk, trying to bring relief, filling the void that was expanding inside me.
I lifted my face to meet the flow. Water flooded my eyes and mouth, washing away the sweat and the invisible dust of the day. In the hiss of the droplets, I finally felt a sense of relaxation, but the thoughts... the thoughts weren't going anywhere. They circled in my mind like vultures over a scorched prairie.
«Why am I so naive? Why have I turned into this soft, blubbering kid?» I asked myself, the voice of reason sounding merciless.
Why do I even hope that life will ever be honest with me? That it would suddenly become merciful? It never gave me what I actually wanted. It gave me steel wings, it gave me power over gravity and supersonic speeds, but it never gave me love. As if it's my karma - to always remain in the exclusion zone. To be alone at fifty thousand feet and to be alone in this empty bathroom.
Maybe it's better this way. No attachments - no pain. No expectations - no disappointments. If you're alone, you don't have to check your phone every five minutes, waiting for a call from a woman who has probably already forgotten your name.
I turned off the water. The silence that rushed into the stall was almost physically painful. I stepped out, threw a towel around my hips, and walked into the dark living room.
My eyes fell on the sofa. In the darkness, a blue light suddenly flashed. The phone.
- Writer
