Eternal Winter

The vultures might as well be circling overhead.

I often think back to the day I met my husband and wonder, if we had never met, then maybe the world would not be this harsh, desolate, gray that it is now. Dying slowly, quietly. The thought ruminated in my mind as I heard a slight wheeze in my chest.

That sounds arrogant, I know, like the world’s fate somehow revolved around me and the people that orbit me, but when it came down to it, I knew that this--all of this--was my fault.

“Get over yourself, Ali.” My sister would have told me, if she was still alive. “We would have found a way to kill ourselves one way or another, with or without you.”

The truth was, I’ve always known my husband was special. Intense, intelligent. He felt too much, thought too much. We both took those silly personality tests and I would joke that his type was just one tragedy away from becoming a villain or a hero.

Well… tragedy struck.

I saw it coming from miles away. My husband was always the nihilist, drawn to oblivion, fascinated by it. After many years of trying, I finally had to accept that there was no reason, no solution, I couldn’t save him from his personal addictive abyss, not when it was a deep rooted fault in his wiring. For a while our love was good enough to keep it at bay, two brilliant young scientists, in love, ambitious. I loved him and loved him and loved him, hoping it was enough.

And it was. Until it wasn’t.

The more I think about it, we were two people that never should have met, simultaneously perfect and absolutely wrong for each other. Two radioactive atoms that combined would have caused mass destruction, and that, we certainly did.

How I wish I didn’t push him as much as I did. As much as I loved him I couldn’t stop myself from encouraging his ambition, I couldn’t let his brilliance go to waste. It was just humanity’s bad luck that a brilliant man could be so broken.

There was a persistent pounding on my door. I was surprised it took this long, honestly. The gun in my hand felt heavy. I wondered idly if maybe, just maybe, because the universe liked to fuck with me, that it was empty.

But no, of course it wasn’t. It had a full cylinder. Six bullets. I have only used two.

“Dr. Kress.” A loud booming voice from behind the door called authoritatively. “We have a justification order. Open the door in the next two minutes or we will open it for you.”

A justification order. Pretty words for an ugly thing. “He’s not here.” I called out, my voice steady, my eyes wandering to the red stain on my shoe. It wasn’t a complete lie.

There was a brief silence. A softer voice answered. My heart ached because I recognized it. “Open the door, Alina. You know how this ends.”

I lowered the gun. Damn it. Of course they would bring her. There was no way I could kill myself now, not in front of her. She deserved better than that.

I let them break down the door.

It was Theresa who entered first. My dearest friend, my executioner. Her expression was blank even as she clocked the gun in my hand. She didn’t look surprised. She was always the best at poker faces. When she finally spoke her voice was kinder than I deserved. “Alina.”

“I had to.”

A pregnant pause. Theresa regarded me gently. “Where is he now?”

“Does it matter?”

“We need to officially… prepare it for processing.” Empty, detached words. But I knew she must be hurting then. She was right, this could only end one way.

I stood there silent for a moment. Theresa gestured to the guards beside her. Leave us, she seemed to convey the words silently, and they scuttled obediently away.

She turned back to me. “Why, Alina? You could have just waited for us to take care of it.”

I stared at her for a moment then laughed mirthlessly. “Oh. You don’t know. It’s too late, Theresa. He’s already done it. It’s already happening, as we speak.” I sat down, resigned. It was getting harder to breathe. “I did him a mercy.”

“Like you did all of us mercy?”

I eyed her warily. “Yes.”

“That wasn’t your decision to make. Or your husband’s.”

I sighed. “If he was right... then it's the next step in our evolution.”

Theresa shot me a look. "You know he was mad, Ali."

"I know."

Theresa’s face softened, shed her mask as an authoritative guard, and sat down beside me, like we used to, when we were just friends, talking late into the night. About boys and make-up and silly things.

Back when things could still be silly and innocent.

“Will everyone be affected? I feel fine.”

“Eventually.” I leaned back, it wasn’t easier to breathe that way, but I was getting very tired. I tried to smile, the muscles in my face aching in protest. “You’ve always been the strongest one of all of us, Theresa.”

“How long would it take?”

“For me? Hours.” I coughed, a wave of nausea coming with the action, the taste of iron in my throat. “I’ve been in the lab with him, you know, logged a lot of exposure hours. Unfortunately for the rest of the world, it could be months. Maybe years.”

Theresa considered this. “Why?”

“Rebirth.” I said automatically. Theresa stayed silent and I sighed. “Revenge.”

“For you daughter?”

“For everything.” It was odd that I wasn’t crying. I must be completely dehydrated, my lips and throat were so dry it hurt to speak. “The world was cruel to him, you know. Our daughter was the only thing that kept him grounded, tethered him to this world. When she passed… it broke me. But Adam... it didn’t just break him, something died inside of him and started to rot.”

“That's not good enough.” Theresa said.

“No.” I closed my eyes. It was taking too much energy to keep them open. “It’s not.”

“Did you kill him?” Theresa asked.

A painful wheeze escaped my throat. “He was dying already.”

“And now the world dies with him.” Theresa murmured.

There was the pop of gunshots in the distance. Sirens in the streets below wailed.

Theresa opened her mouth as if to ask another question, then she seemed to change her mind. She looked at me for a second before turning to face the wall, her eyes unfocused, deep in thought. “I know you loved him.”

I stayed silent, closing my eyes. It was becoming painful keeping them open. There were no more words to be said. I could feel my racing thready pulse begin to slow down, my heart was giving up the battle. That was it, it seemed to tell me, as it beat slowly, erratically, that was all I could do.

Every cell in my body burned with pain, a breath caught uncomfortably in my chest. Then... there was nothing, and I was grateful.