I start to cry as the inevitability of what will happen is overshadowed by the pain and suffering that will precede our deaths. I want this to end, and to end quickly, for us to both be welcomed to the next life: a place where I will be with Scott forever, always in his arms.
He places his head on mine and wraps his arms tighter around me. He doesn’t say anything; we must both know that words are pointless now. He slowly rocks us both as my face stays joined with his chest. I want to be brave; I want to turn around and face our enemy together, but the simple truth is that I cannot bear to see it. I know what it is and that is enough for me; I want to keep all that I have seen as a vision somewhere in the distance.
There are now only a few desperate cries from the handful of people still shielding us. I can feel them drop one by one, their hard bodies hitting the floor with such regularity that I count them as they fall. Through all of this Scott doesn’t move, as I wonder if he has his eyes shut too. I focus only on his beating heart. I never want it to stop; my eyes stay closed and our bodies join as one.
And when all the crying finally ends, when that last prayer for mercy goes unanswered, I wonder if I’m already dead. Nothing seems to happen; only the silent smell of death surrounds us as I convince myself that I have already been sliced open. Time seems to want to make me wait, as does the beast, as I feel something lingering behind me. I sense its breathing; think I feel the lashing of its tongue against my neck.
I don’t scream now; I’m no longer willing to beg. I have what I want, can still feel the beating of the heart of someone I could easily love and I refuse to ask for more.
And so, in all but the darkness, I hold on tight to what is finally mine.
8. The Enduring Inevitability of Corporations and Cockroaches
Tuesday 23rd August – The Caribbean
After what seems like an eternity the tie comes off.
I knew it would. I watch as he throws it onto the chair and it joins all the others in a strange pile of overlapping patterns. The colour combination was not bold enough and so it lands next to the dark green one with white spots, and the blue and red one, which I thought stood a chance, but which apparently makes him look like a schoolboy.
‘Not enough red,’ he says and then continues to tell me how important today is. He has told me this a hundred times before, citing countless reasons why today is more important than any other day; it’s even more important than the end of the world, because it will be the beginning of a new world. I nod and listen to the endlessly repeated lecture. I get that today is totally important, like in a crazy way, but it’s no more or less important to me. It’s just another day in this hellhole we’re all stuck in.
‘Perfect!’ he announces, as he finds what he believes is an exact match, forcing me to turn my attention back to him just at the moment he pushes the knot up to his throat until it’s almost choking him. Sadly, it’s still not quite tight enough for my liking.
I nod back at him, not really knowing what to say. I think it makes him look like one of Virgin Atlantic’s finest, although he’s clearly a few too many kilos past what would be a respectable flying age.
He doesn’t seem to want anything in return, just to have his own voice echoed back to him. He starts to comb back his hair, that combination of black and grey which seems to capture the essence of where he is in his life. He licks a finger and then focuses on a few stray hairs, putting them back in their place, forcing compliance where none is needed. When he finally turns to me he stares in complete shock. ‘Henry!’ he shouts, the look of horror blazing through his black, thick-framed glasses. ‘You will have to change your entire outfit because we look far too similar. What were you thinking?’ He fixes his cufflinks while his reflection judges from the mirror, watching to see what I will do next.
I look down at myself and then over at him and can’t help but shrug my shoulders, although I quickly see what his issue is – the younger version of him looks better, healthier, a little less burdened.
‘Sometimes I think you do this deliberately,’ he says, his head shaking. ‘You are my executive personal assistant but that doesn’t mean you should try to outshine me. You just need to do as you are told. That was our deal and yet you often try your best to undermine me.’
I shake my head, openly denying his accusation but not wanting to bring this argument to life, not again.
He turns around so he can glare at me properly. ‘You are not me and you never will be. When I think about what I had achieved by your age, it’s clear you will not become an entrepreneur, even if the world was as it should be.’ He makes his way towards me, placing a hand on each of my shoulders, his eyes digging deep into mine. ‘You must realise your place and try to learn from me. You have the potential to go far in my organisation, providing you keep your head where it needs to be.’
He pulls down hard on my tie, forcing me to bow down to him. He keeps a tight hold on my reins and leans in closer, so he can whisper into my ear. ‘We have no time for mistakes today. They arrive in less than an hour and I need everything to be perfect. If it isn’t then we risk everything. We have all to gain or all to lose on this deal and it’s your job to make sure I am focused on one thing and one thing only. Do you understand me?’
I cough, barely able to move. He eventually releases his grip and we both straighten ourselves up and look at the other, neither of us refusing to give in. I am the junior, the servant to my master, and a vulnerable servant at that. But as he looks at me I know that deep down he is the small one – the little boy in the body of a relatively successful man.
That’s what my dad had said when he told me that an internship at SkyCloud Industries was the right thing to do, that it would offer me a future that he never could. From the moment he said it I didn’t believe him but I knew I didn’t really have a choice. My dad owed so much and it turns out the only thing he had to give was me. And so I’ve been made the whipping boy, the verbal punch-bag. I’m at his mercy and we both know it.
‘You need to be 100% on your game today,’ he says, his attention back on his reflection. I wonder what he sees – perhaps a cat who thinks he’s a lion, or a boy who thinks he’s a man. Or maybe he sees a different truth that he doesn’t want to accept. ‘If we lose this investment then we lose everything. The world has changed and we are now behind, which means we need to adapt and we need to do it quickly, before it’s too late. My plan will only work if everyone plays their part and yours is to support me in making this deal happen.’
His eyes don’t leave the mirror as he straightens his shirt, fussing over himself. ‘My plan will work,’ he mutters, as he tucks the shirt deeper into his trousers. He suddenly turns, almost walking into me. ‘What are you still doing here? Go get changed and then check the room is ready to receive our Chinese guests.’
I nod and do as I’m told, walking away as he mutters something about never having asked for an executive lap-dog, but that’s what he got.
I walk calmly out of the room, conducting my final affairs with the ultimate of dignity. Only when I get outside and close his door do I allow my most obvious of frustrations to show as I behave like the young guy I actually am. I storm down the corridor, scrunching up my face and pulling at my hair, allowing myself to be angry, to be entirely fucked off. I’m dizzy, lost and mad, all at the same time. I know that everything will be my fault if today goes wrong, because if we don’t get the resources and the investment then we won’t be able to launch the Sky Cities, and if we cannot launch them then we will not be able to deliver what we promised to the new world citizens. What gets under my skin is why any of this is my concern. I should be in college, in lectures, in a bar – anywhere but here, with the burden of a megalomaniac and the end of the world conspiring against me.