Regrets (Dead Challenge)
By Leslie
"I am dead. The inevitable cannot be changed," Sloan states defiantly to herself, squeezing the steering wheel firmly before stepping out of her car and walking over to stand in front of her mentor’s grave marker. November is quickly approaching and the rain has been falling for days. Strangely enough, she finds it comforting...a hidden rhythm among the scattered droplets that distracts her inner voices. Inner voices that remind her of her failures, her mistakes, her fate.
"I wish you were here, Ann," she whispers, kneeling down to clear off the fallen debris from the marker. It’s been slightly over a year since her death, but the weather has already taken its toll on the engraving. Absently, Sloan traces the letters of Ann’s name with her fingers before placing a small bouquet of calla lilies upon the grass.
"They’re your favorite," Sloan says, her voice harsh with emotion as she wipes her hands on the legs of her pants, which are nearly soaked, before standing up. "I’ve lost everything, Ann," she confesses, the stress of the past few weeks finally becoming too much for her to bear. Tears begin to sting her eyes and she squeezes them closed tightly to clear her vision. "I have never felt so empty, so alone. I never imagined it would turn out like this. I was stupid, naive. Even after everything you’ve taught me and everything I’ve read, I was still determined to believe that co-existence was possible; that we could achieve peace."
She hastily pushes the wet ringlets out of her face and stares out over the soft hills of the cemetery. "So many lives lost. It’s only the beginning, Ann." She shakes her head with regret, the voices in her mind becoming louder, more persistent. "Kewley’s comet was a signal. The new species has openly acknowledged their existence to the world. I fear the subtlety of their attacks will soon be lost."
Sloan stands there quietly for what seems like an eternity, until a strange sensation climbing up her spine finally pulls her out of her reverie. She brushes it off absently and continues with her confessions. "Walter’s dead and it’s all my fault. When I discovered that it was his actions that led to Tom’s kidnapping, I said some awful things. He just stood there, Ann, never fighting back. He set up a meeting with his boss the next day to negotiate Tom’s release and she shot him."
Sloan covers her mouth with both hands as she begins to cry. Then, gaining some composure, she continues, knowing this is something she can no longer keep inside. It’s eating her alive.
"All I cared about was getting Tom back...at any price. I tried to convince everyone that we needed him on our side if we were going to succeed, but I was lying. I loved him, Ann. He was a member of the new species--a chameleon, a killer--and I loved him. There were so many things I wanted to say, so many things we could have shared. I couldn’t bear the thought of never seeing him again, never hearing his voice. I knew it was dangerous, but I let Walter go anyway. I was being selfish."
Her voice fades as she slips into another reverie...memories of Tom flashing through her mind. His smile, his laugh, his quiet strength. Every essence of him preserved in her memory forever. It’s the only thing that keeps her from falling over the edge, losing all sense of sanity...despite what the others might think. "I couldn’t follow the others. I couldn’t leave Pasadena. If he is still alive..." she trails off, sensing another tingle moving up her spine. Her heart rate soars. "This could be the end," she thinks to herself. Catching movement out of the corner of her eye, she turns her head slightly to catch a glimpse. The only thing in her line of sight is a scattered batch of trees, a couple vehicles off in the distance, and another mourning soul looking for some peace of mind and solace.
Convinced that it was simply her imagination, she lets out a strangled laugh. "See what happens when you don’t get enough sleep? Your mind starts playing tricks on you." Realizing that the hour is getting late, she decides to say her good-byes. It’s not likely she’ll be out this way again. She returned to Pasadena almost two weeks ago, and if her enemies have their way, it won’t be long before someone is coming here to cry over her grave. It’s only a matter of which side tracks her down first...Walter’s boss or the new species.
"I have to go, Ann." Sloan’s throat begins to constrict at the thought of walking away and letting go. "I’ll see you soon." And with that said, she turns to walk back to her car. Her steps falter instantly when she spots a lone figure in the distance. A man...a familiar man. He is walking away from her, but his silver hair is unmistakable. It’s the man who haunts her dreams. "Why is he leaving?" she wonders, squinting her eyes and pushing the hair out of her face as the wind starts to pick up.
"Lewis," she states absently, reaching down into her jacket pocket to quickly locate her keys. She has to be mistaken. Lewis would never pass up the opportunity to snap her neck.
In the distance, Lewis pauses, sensing Sloan’s panic and confusion. He doesn’t have to turn around to know that she has spotted him; her emotions reveal everything. Unable to resist, he turns around to glance in her direction for a split second before heading back to his car.
His obsession to kill Sloan is gone. While he was approaching her, he’d sensed her anguish and despair, had heard her words of sincerity. Her memories had flashed before his eyes with blinding intensity. They were memories of Tom; memories infused with emotions that he could never imagine or describe. In these flashes, Tom was happy. Lewis had realized in that instant that Sloan had been able to bring out a side of Tom that Lewis had never known existed. A streak of jealousy had pierced his heart and he’d realized, to his surprise, that he’d misjudged her...her motives, her devotion, her strength.
"Everything is not lost, Sloan," he states with sheer conviction, reaching for the door handle of his BMW. "I know exactly what I need to do."
The End