Free Chaos by David Meyer

like a mile.
    A gust of wind caught hold of me but I stood my ground. As it faded away, my eyes lifted to the fourth floor, second window from the left. Although I couldn’t be sure, I thought I saw a tiny light. Did she still live there? Or had she moved on with her life?
    Thunder clapped and a bolt of lightning shot across the sky. Its fierce light lit up the block. And in that one brief moment, I saw her.
    Diane stood at the window, arms crossed, staring into the rain. Her face looked tight, her expression pensive. In the momentary flash of light, she stood out above everything else, like a dazzling star in a dull sky.
    The image blinked away into nothingness. And as darkness returned, I knew I’d never forget it.
    My brain wrestled with itself for a few moments. I wanted to see her, talk to her before it was too late. I knew all too well the pitfalls of waiting to deal with something. One day turned into another and then another. Soon, everything got buried under the surface, a tumor waiting to kill you.
    But it seemed selfish only to consider my own needs. I’d hurt her badly three years ago, worse than I’d realized. Maybe the best thing I could do for her was walk away and let her forget me all over again.
    My hesitation built upon itself and my brain began to churn up more and more excuses. I felt like a teenager at a school dance, one part raring to go and the other part glued to the wall.
    A covered bus stop sat on the sidewalk, just a few feet away. Seeking shelter from the stinging rain, I walked into it.
    A sign hung on the left wall. “Call Your Representatives,” it screamed in bold lettering. “And Tell Them to Sack Jack!”
    The accompanying image showed Chase standing in the middle of a destitute, disgusting subway station. His hands were spread wide and his face reflected a mixture of confusion and stupidity. I chuckled. It was actually a pretty decent likeness.
    Next to it hung a similar sign, clearly meant as a response. “Call Your Representatives,” it read. “And Tell Them to Back Jack!” The image on this poster was different, with a strong, determined Chase sending away a bunch of fat cats, who obviously represented the labor bosses.
    My eyes lingered on the bosses. Dollar bills flowed out of their pockets. Back in my former life, I would’ve favored the labor movement. But three years spent living on the fringes of civilization had caused me to rethink my political views.
    That didn’t mean I supported Chase. Quite the contrary. Even if his motives were pure, I still wouldn’t have supported him. He and the bosses were just different ends of the same government entity. And these days, my opinions on government were well outside the realms of polite thinking.
    Thunder clapped again. With a sigh, I stepped out of the shelter. Steeling myself, I walked into the quiet street and began to cross the pavement.
    Abruptly, the wind accelerated. It caught me mid-step and I lost my balance.
    I smashed into the street, smacking the back of my head against the concrete. For a few seconds, I lay there, trying to blink away the cobwebs, tasting raindrops and blood on my tongue.
    I propped myself up on my elbows. The wind intensified, plowing into me like a freight train. Ignoring the pounding in my head, I looked up at the building, searching for Diane’s window. I hoped to see a light, hoped to see her face.
    But all I saw was darkness.
    Slowly, painfully, I rose to my feet. But something kept me from walking forward. I didn’t know if it was guilt or something else. All I knew was that I wasn’t ready to see her.
    I wasn’t yet ready to confront that part of my past.
    The wind lessened as I turned around and wobbled back to the sidewalk. At the corner, I took one last look over my shoulder, hoping to see another flash of lightning. Hoping to see her building.
    Hoping to see her.
    But all I saw was darkness.

 
    Chapter 11
    Ryan Standish stepped into the shadow of a staircase. His black poncho