Hajime: Before The Desert Hajime had cocooned himself in his apartment for two days. He wondered how long it would be before Wit found out about Shawn, but luckily for Hajime, these two days away from work were already scheduled. No one would expect anything from either one of them. Still, he didn't even wanted to try … Continue reading 40 Scenes in 40 Days: Day 11
Claire was overtaken by a creeping sense of betrayal as she fell down the stairs. Each step felt like someone was pummeling her with stones. When she reached the bottom, she had wished there was some way to slow down time to make sure she had fallen correctly, but there was not. She tried to prop herself up, but her whole body seemed to scream out in a flash of pain, the epicenter of which was based in the left side of her body - more specifically her wrist. She could put no pressure on her left palm or hand, forcing her to prop herself up using her right side. She looked incredulously at the loose appendage; her left wrist had dislocated. She could not move it, not without feeling severe pain, but she had little time to dwell on her discomfort.
"Careful," said Shawn. His accuracy of knowing where Hajime was at all times sent prickles up Hajime's neck. Shawn continued manipulating the data files with his hands, moving as if conducting an unseen orchestra while digital lights swarmed in front of him. Hajime admired his gracefulness, as he felt too old to move so quickly. However, he knew that Shawn could also miss finer details, and this gave him the comfort of not being totally obsolete.
When she entered, projections lit up automatically, while the once dark and reflective floor disappeared almost completely from her vision. In total, there were five projections, four of which took the size, shape, and color of black marble statues. The fifth was a blur, still taking time to boot up. Of the four statues, two were men, and two were women.
Claire reached into her back pocket and pulled out two photos. She had grabbed them from her apartment just before the enforcers broke down her door. Managing to get away was a challenge on its own, but now, she was able to sit completely undisturbed, tucking her body between two dumpsters adjacent to a building at the very edge of Region Two.
Hajime unholstered his gun and left it in the car, taking instead his old notepad and a pen. If the offender were here, he would not make an arrest. All he wanted were answers. He thought of Shawn for a moment, and then forced Shawn's face out of his mind. This was not the time for this, not at all the time to feel guilty. He traced the horizon with his eyes, first catching site of seven flags hoisted at the far end of the shore. Each one was spaced evenly from another, beckoning him to move forward and see their flitting shapes.
Hajime imagined that a drop of blood or a strand of hair would not hide in a room as bright as this.
She regretted that her chosen hiding spot was a crawl space just wide enough for her to breathe and feel the soft cobwebs against her lips, almost as much as she regretted that it was in a basement that had only one way in and out.
It had been exactly eight hours and twenty-five minutes since he had last allowed himself to pee, and when this exact number became eight hours and twenty-six minutes, he couldn't help himself any longer.
It would have been easier had he had a heart-attack; they could have called the paramedics then, or had him rushed away. They could call the police, but this man was not causing a loud disturbance. He was causing a quiet one.