Intercepts

by T.J. Payne

I do not know how long I have been here. Been like this. Unfeeling. I am no longer tethered to the concept of space and time. I remember that I am somebody. Or was somebody. But I do not remember who.

And down she dug. Through skin. Through muscle. Through tendon. Through bone.

She could not run from this woman. She could not force this woman away. She could only confront the woman.

She was naked, but there wasn’t an inch of flesh coloring on her. She had peeled off most of her skin, which hung from her flailing body in large shredded chunks.

They didn’t just kill him. They wanted to hurt him. It was a fury and viciousness that didn’t exist in nature. That is what we have created, Hannah thought. Something outside the bounds of nature.

“Physical pain is fleeting. The mind closes it off, as best it can. But some pain runs deeper. Some pain lingers. It sticks to you in the darkness, and the mind cannot push it away. Pain such as the pain of watching your family suffer. And the pain of knowing they suffered because of you. That pain will never leave,” the voices said in unison. “Consider it not a punishment, but a gift. The pain will be your foundation as you swim in the black. It will be your light. Use it to find your way, Joe Gerhard.”

She looked down at Moby sitting intently on the floor. The dog’s ears were perked and her head was cocked to the side. She had seemingly also heard something, but Riley detected no fear in the dog’s reaction. Just familiarity.

The voice was her secret. She assumed it was her subconscious guiding her toward the best, most rational decisions. It made sense. But she liked to believe that it was something more. A guardian angel. Her parents had gone to Heaven — or wherever people go when they die — and now they protected her from afar.

But Aguirre actually admitted that the name “Bishop” suited her better.

WTF?!

“Because… because despite his extensive injuries… he’s always smiling.”

The smile a proud father would have as he gazed upon a daughter who just graduated high school and had been accepted into a very good private college. A daughter who had endured so much, and yet overcome it with a remarkable strength and self-confidence. A daughter who had every right for self-pity and crippling remorse but refused to indulge in such emotions. A daughter whose father had failed her, but despite those failures, she had become a better, stronger person than he ever was. A daughter he would love forever, across all physical bounds of the earth.

He would find his daughter always. He would watch over her, as he promised her mother he would. He would love and protect her until his final breath. It was a smile of pure bliss.

He hoped it would soon pass because he was experiencing the worst headache of his life. Strange.