The morning was warm and almost humid. Hunter had been right. There were insects in the air. A heavy sounding bumble bee ambled in front of MacGregorâs face. MacGregor closed the Royal Hotelâs door behind himself as the bee buzzed off into the distance. The air outside was still, the sun feeling strong on MacGregorâs face. It felt more like summer than springtime. Pollen was heavy in the air. More than a few insects buzzed nearby.
âStorms at night, sun in the morning,â MacGregor commented. âCorrect me if Iâm wrong, but this feels like May or June to me now. I can feel the sun burning my skin. I burn really easily in the sun. I always have. And I know from experience that itâs usually about the end of May that I need to start thinking about sunblock. Otherwise I end upâ¦â
âI get it,â Hunter grunted. âYes, I agree with you John. It feels very warm today.â
Her tone suggested impatience, irritability. He didnât know what was wrong. He guessed that she regretted their brief flurry in the bed. It made him angry. After all, sheâd started it.
The car, of course, was parked where theyâd left it. She unlocked the door with the remote unit. Without a word, she opened the boot and placed the rucksack into the luggage area. He groped for the boot, hoping that Hunter wouldnât close it on his hand. Finding the edge, he removed his jacket and stuffed it into the right side. He felt the boot closing and removed his hand just in time.
âFuckâs sake, Eilidh. Whatâs wrong with you?â
She didnât answer. The boot clicked shut and she padded round to the driverâs seat.
âAre you driving again?â he said.
âFunny.â
The engine started as he made his way to the passenger door. There was a sharp pang of fear when he imagined Hunter driving off without him. Then he was getting into the car. He was barely in the seat before Hunter started off. The tires screeched as she spun the car around. MacGregor braced himself against the door.
âJesus, Eilidh. Whatâs wrong with you?â
âNothing,â she said. âWeâve made a good, early start. I just donât want to waste more time.â
Again, there was something in the tone of her voice. The Miniâs engine screamed as she went through the gearbox quickly. She was driving too fast, he thought. She was putting them both in danger. He opened his mouth and drew a breath. He was going to shout at her, tell her to cool it. But then, before he could, the Mini was slowing down. Hunter said something under her breath. He didnât quite hear it.
âExcuse me?â
âFucking bollocks, John. I said The Mini was still slowing down. Hunterâs driving was less erratic and random. She was breathing heavily. There was something wrong with her breathing. It sounded like she was angry. Then, of course, he realized that she was actually crying.
âWhatâs wrong?â he said softly. âEilidh? Why are you crying?â
âIâm being emotional, John,â she said. âIâll be alright. Just ignore me.â
He felt her stabbing at the radio. There was a crackle. Just the slightest burst of static. A stray morsel of electricity bouncing around inside the dashboard mounted wireless receiver, but enough to make MacGregorâs heart leap to his mouth for a fraction of a second. When he realized that there were no actual signals, he leaned back to bump his skull against the headrest.
âStatic,â he said.
âYes. Thereâs nothing on the radio today,â Hunter said. âNobody is out there.â
He was still angry, still confused. Heâd shared part of his soul with Hunter. He felt that sheâd done the same. Theyâd shared each otherâs bodies. Heâd thought that meant something. Now, it seemed that she was ignoring all of that.
He breathed heavily, stifling his anger. âSo itâs just us then?â MacGregor said.
âIt looks like that, John. At least for the time being, it looks like that.â
The emotionless tone of her voice maddened him. He felt his shoulders shaking and his face becoming hot with anger. He didnât turn his face away. He wanted her to see what she was doing to him with her dismissive, infuriating blanking of him. After about a mile of driving he realized that she either wasnât going to acknowledge his anger or she didnât care to notice it. After another mile, he couldnât take any more.
âSo what the fuck is this, then?â
The car braked sharply. MacGregor wasnât wearing a seat belt and instinctively threw out his hands to protect himself. The middle finger of his right hand caught against the gearstick, almost breaking it as it pulled back.
âAhhh! Jesus Christ!â he shouted. âWhat the fuck are you doing?â
Theyâd been going faster than he realized. The car was still skidding to a halt, almost out of control. There was a strong smell of burning rubber. He fell back into his seat, squeezing the pain out of his staved finger.
âSo what is it?â Hunter snapped. âWhat do you want to know?â
âYou almost broke my fucking finger, for fuckâs sake.â
âDo you have to say the F word in every single sentence âI fucking well but I fucking well if you donât tell me what the this is all about!â
He was surprised at his own intensity. For a moment, it occurred to him that he should apologize. He was so angry that heâd forgotten himself for a moment. And he wasnât even sure he was so angry. What had he expected from her? How was she supposed to act after theyâd made love? Did she regret it? Was it a mistake she couldnât run away from? He was embarrassed by his feelings, but the pain in his hand kept him from apologizing.
âWhat do you want to say, John.â
He flexed the fingers of his right hand. With his left, he rolled down the window of the car. All the way down. He wanted to smell the air and feel the wind on his face. He sniffed generously. The burned rubber smell overpowered nearby wild flowers and some animalâs distant, decaying carcass.
âWell?â Hunter pressed.
He cleared his throat. âLast night was just amazing. It really meant a lot to me. And now youâre acting like weâre just two strangers.â
âWe two strangers, John.â Hunter said. âYou donât know anything about me. I donât know anything about you. Weâre two people whoâve known each other for a total of about ten hours.â
He swallowed hard, blind eyes looking out the window at the infinite darkness. The sun was hot on his face, burning his skin. Hunterâs voice was calm and serene, but her breathing wasnât even. She was breathing loudly through her mouth, sniffing slightly as if she was about to catch a cold.
âLast night was just something that happened. It doesnât mean that weâre any closer than we were when Simard introduced us a few days ago.â
He turned away from the window, replacing his dark glasses. The bridge of his nose hurt from where they pressed down on his skin. âI donât even know what that means,â he said, shaking his head.
She sniffed quietly. âIt was something that happened between us because we were both stressed and anxious. It was a way of releasing tension.â
âOkay, well I can fucking just fuck if I want to release tension.â
âCharming.â
âAnd itâs worked a fucking charm, too, hasnât it? I mean, look how fucking relaxed we both are? What is it you said you did for a living, again? A fucking psychiatrist?â
âIâm a psychologist,â Hunter said.
âWhatever. I donât even know what the difference is.â
âIâm not a doctor,â Hunter said. âI work with people who have behaâ¦â
âShit, I donât really care,â MacGregor snapped. âItâs all the same to me. I just donât like being used, thatâs all. If your work is to do with the mind and all that then youâll understand.â
Hunter hesitated. It was a long pause. MacGregor wondered what she was thinking. Finally, she said: âI donât think you were used, John. I think what happened last night was good for both of us.â
âLetâs just agree to disagree,â MacGregor said. âI thought it meant something. Thatâs why Iâm angry.â
He hadnât realized that the car engine had stopped until it Hunter turned the key in the ignition. The starter turned several times and there was a smell of petrol.
âIâm sorry,â she said.
They were moving, but slowly. Somehow, the subject of was closed. He didnât feel anger anymore. He felt like closing his eyes and sleeping. He removed his glasses again and leaned back into the soft headrest, closing his eyes. He tried to clear his thoughts. Hunter had a point. Theyâd only known each other for a short time.
There was sweat on his forehead. He wished heâd thought to find some deodorant at the hotel. It was hotter outside now, maybe twenty degrees. He kept the window down, enjoying the cool air on his face. The Mini picked up speed. MacGregor imagined a long straight road. He guessed that Hunter was driving at about forty or fifty miles an hour.
âWhere are we?â
âIâm not sure what itâs called. Itâs the bridge just before Inverness. The Kessock Bridge, I think itâs called.â
âThatâs right. Kessock Bridge,â MacGregor echoed, âIs it clear?â
âMostly,â Hunter said. âItâs a dual carriageway. Iâve passed about eight or nine cars ahead of me, but theyâre all at the side of the road. One of the cars was a people carrier. It looked like the whole family was still inside it. The others were empty, but there are dead people here and there. The cars broke down and the occupants got out to walk, I suppose.â
âPoor bastards,â MacGregor commented.
âYes,â Hunter whispered.
They drove straight past Inverness without stopping. The radio was silent the whole way, not hitching on to even a pop or a crackle of static. After twenty minutes of silence, MacGregor decided it was time to speak.
âWhat do you think weâre going to find in Glasgow?â
Hunter waited only a second before answering. âNothing,â she said.
âYes, thatâs what I think, too.â
They drove in silence for another hour. MacGregor was still feeling tired and decided to close his eyes. The air had turned cooler again and his window was up once more. The radio was still searching from 88Mhz to 108Mhz. The whole commercial FM band. But there was nothing to be heard. From time to time heâd hear Hunter stab at the buttons there, keeping the radio scanning for signals that werenât there. The little carâs engine was quiet, its tires making a steady and almost hypnotic burring on the road surface.
âYouâre everything to me, John,â Carol Anne said, softly. âYou always were and always will be.â
âThatâs so nice,â he said. âReally, thatâs just so great.â
He knew it was a dream. Vaguely, he realized that this wasnât real. But he didnât want to end the dream just yet. He had a feeling about what was going to happen next and he wanted it to happen. If it went wrong, then he would decide to end the dream and wake up. But there she was, just as he remembered her. The cute twinkle in her eyes. The lopsided pirateâs smile, almost sad but not quite. Her freckles and long brown hair. Those big eyes, so inviting and warm. Her natural beauty.
âOh God,â he said, âIâm so glad youâre here. Everythingâs so bad now. Everythingâs so bad since you went away. I want you to come back. I want you to be here with me now. Or I want to be there with you. I just want us to be together.â
The boundaries of the dreamâs fragile reality wobbled. He tried to relax, knowing that once he awoke sheâd be gone. It had been years since heâd dreamt of her. Years since heâd seen her smile. Those eyes. The only girl heâd ever loved.
âWe can be together,â Carol Anne smiled. Her eyes twinkled. He could see the stars in them.
âYouâre so beautiful,â he said. âYour eyes are just so beautiful.â
He was looking into her eyes, but he was somehow looking into the stars. He was looking through the great void of space. And then he was looking into an endless velvet darkness. A soft blackness that wrapped itself around him.
âCarol Anne!â
âIâm here. I can see you.â He heard her voice all around him, inside him. Still, there was only blackness. The blackest black. Blacker than anything heâd ever seen or known.
âIâm blind,â he whispered, âI canât see.â
âYouâre not blind.â Carol Anneâs voice was inside his head, vibrating deep into his soul. âIf you really try, you can see me.â
He had the sensation of falling. But he couldnât be sure if he was falling down or soaring upwards. He realized that the latter was true. He was moving upwards, accelerating into the dark and becoming a part of it.
âIâm scared,â he muttered.
âWe understand.â The voice sounded like Carol Anne, but not the Carol Anne he remembered. The dream had become unpleasant. It was time to wake up, he thought. He couldnât see Carol Anne anymore. He wasnât sure where she was or where he was going. There was only darkness and he was moving faster and faster into it.
âIâm sorry I let you go.â He felt tears welling up in his eyes. âIâm really sorry I let you go.â
âI know,â Carol Anne said.
He was flying ever upwards. Moving faster than a rocket. He was staring above himself, but there was only the infinite blackness. But then there was something else. The tiniest dot of blue, far in the distance. His body continued to accelerate through the nothingness and the tiny blue dot was now a shining blue marble. And in the next breath it was the size of a ping pong ball. He realized that it was the planet Earth, his home. He was moving towards it at the speed of light, perhaps faster. And the Earth was just so beautiful and so very blue.
He was beginning to wake up. He didnât want to, he realized. He tried to relax, but consciousness was creeping back. He knew it was too late. Knowing, in itself, was one of the problems with waking-up. The real world once more pervaded his mind, flattening his memory of the elusive and oh-so inviting dream world. The dull rumble of the Miniâs tires was the prevailing thought in his mind now. That, and the fact that the blackness all around him was real again and no longer imagined. And he was no longer falling or flying into it. He was just trapped within it. Imprisoned in the darkness, forever.
The Miniâs wheels rumbled over the road surface. There was a light pattering of rain on the windscreen. Hunter flicked a lever on the steering column. The windscreen wipers moved once, swishing away a few droplets of water.
âYou nodded off,â Hunterâs spoke kindly, softly.
MacGregor felt a great sadness. Carol Anne was lost forever. Everyone was lost. It was the end of the world, the end of hope itself. He felt a tear trickle from his left eye down his cheek. He smoothed it into his skin with the back of his hand.
âWeâre just north of Perth. Almost half way there.â Hunterâs voice seemed to have a new optimism that was obviously fraudulent.
âOkay.â
âYou were asleep for about two hours.â
He didnât know what to say to that. Now fully awake, he realized that he was still angry with Hunter. He wasnât in the mood to converse with her.
âI know I said that you donât know me and I donât know you.â
He turned his head in her direction but didnât speak.
âDonât be angry with me because of that,â she said. âI didnât mean it the way it sounded.â
âIâm not angry,â he lied. âAnyway, letâs focus on what weâre trying to do here. Weâre going to Glasgow to find your dead husband and then Iâm going to find my dead flat mate. And then⦠and then what? Then I guess weâll just figure it out as we go along.â
âThatâs very cold, John. Iâm sorry that youâre angry with me. Like I said, weâll get to know each other as time passes. Itâs likely that there wonât be anything in Glasgow for either of us. But we have to do it. For closure.â
He grunted indifferently. âClosure. I suppose for you, yes. I donât have anything to close. I shared more with you than I ever did with Jackie.â
The weight of his words sank in then. Hamish was still a part of her life, regardless of the state of their relationship. You didnât just forget someone once you fell out of love with them.
âIâm sorry about Hamish,â he said. âIâm sorry for you.â
âYes. Thank you.â
He expected more, but Hunter didnât say anything else. He was trying to think of something else to say, but then Hunterâs driving became unusual. She seemed to be slowing down and turning the car at the same time. The tires were biting into gravel and dirt. She was leaving the road, he realized.
âWhat are you doing?â
âOh my God!â she said. âOh my God. Itâsâ¦â
She screamed. The car was coming to a slow halt, turning to the right.
âOh my God. Oh I⦠I donâtâ¦Oh my God!â
âFuckâs sake Eilidh! Whatâs going on?â
âThatâs the Forth Road⦠no, itâs the Forth Rail Bridge. Itâsâ¦in the sky. I mean⦠the Rail Bridge itâs being lifted into the sky.â
MacGregor had never crossed the Rail Bridge, but heâd seen it many times when driving across the nearby road bridge. The iconic Cantilever Bridge was a famous Scottish landmark.
âWhat the Being lifted by what?â
âNothing. Itâs just⦠itâs just rising into the air.â
âShit. How far are we from it?â
âTwenty miles, perhaps more. I donât believe what Iâm seeing. Itâs just rising into the⦠oh my. Now itâs turning on its end. Itâs turning on its end. Some parts of it are falling awayâ¦. Falling down to earth. I canât see the ground. Itâs on its end and⦠it looks like itâs being⦠itâs being unraveled.â
âHow do you unravel a one and a half mile long steel bridge?â MacGregor said.
âI⦠I donât know. Some of the metal looks like itâs falling away. There are just two long sections left. Theyâre being twisted. Itâs like somethingâs tying them into knots, John. I really canât believe what Iâm seeing. Oh shit!â
âWhat?â
âItâs dropping. Whatever was holding it up just let it go. Itâs gone. Into the Forth Estuary or onto land somewhere I donâtâ¦â
She stopped talking. The Mini shuddered for a moment. MacGregor realized immediately what he was feeling.
âHoly fucking cow,â he said. âThat was it hitting the ground, wasnât it?â
Hunter didnât reply. She was leaving the car.
âWait!â he shouted after her.
âI need to see something,â she shouted back.
He might have stayed put, but when she closed her door he moved without thinking. He was out of the car in a second and making his way around the bonnet towards the driverâs side. He flinched as a heavy drop of rain slammed against his forehead.
âEilidh!â he shouted, âdonât leave me!â
âI just need to see! Iâm not leaving.â
She was moving away from the car. He stumbled towards the sound of her voice, flicking open his cane. The cane opened swiftly, feeling different in his hand than he remembered it.
âEilidh!â
âIâm here. Iâm just looking at the sky. Iâm trying to see whatâs up there.â
He was beside her now. He reached out his left hand and she grabbed it tightly.
âIâm sorry,â she said, âI needed to look up at the sky. Before it went away. I thought there would be something up there. I donât know what I was looking for, but thereâs nothing there. Thereâs nothing in the sky.â
âWas it really the Forth Rail Bridge?â
âDefinitely. For a few seconds I could see the shape of it. But then it became contorted. It began to fall apart. But it was being twisted and tangled. Like something was playing with it.â
âWe should keep going,â MacGregor suggested. He didnât have a real reason. He just didnât want to be standing outside. Somehow, he felt theyâd be safer in motion. Hunter might have agreed with him as she began to drag him back to the car.
âThereâs nothing up there,â she said. â I donât know what I was expecting to see. A big hand. A flying saucer. I donât know. But thereâs nothing there.â
âOkay.â
She started the engine and the little car moved off.