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FOUR

I t’s dark outside now, the second night of this endless odyssey, and Eddie’s having another vision. He’s sitting with Cookie, next to the bed where she lies quiet and still. The light around them is soft like twilight, and Eddie can hear that her breathing is labored, uneven. He knows she’s close to death, and all he can do is stare. Why is he so fascinated by this? He recognizes the stage she’s in. She’s past the moment, the one he’s seen many times before, when a Sunset Ridge resident’s eyes change after their treatments have stopped working. He has noticed the way the shape of their mouths sharpens, the way their skin thins to vellum. He’s listened to their strange mumblings, watched their childlike expressions, felt them shift from resistant to resigned. He’s breathed the air in the spaces left behind when they go.

Where do they go? he wonders. Not the bodies, he knows what happens to those. But everything else. The spirit, the soul, whatever you call it. The life. What becomes of it? Does it just fade into vapor? Is it simply erased? In his vision, Eddie leans closer to Cookie, listening. Maybe she knows.