Consciousness returns to me, albeit, hazily.
“Zeit!” Kylie screams. Her voice is distant and distorted, like hearing someone try to yell underwater.
I slit my eyes open, letting a little light into my dark world. I see the blurry image of Kylie hovering over me. I’m lying on my back, I gather.
Then the memory of the day’s events return full force.
“Kylie,” I say with a hoarse voice. “Did it work?”
She looks over her shoulder, presumably at the woman we were trying to save.” She’s alive, but still unconscious. The helicopter is gone, and so is Carlo.”
“They bought it then.” It is a statement rather than a question. “They thought she was dead and left. It worked.”
I look down at my chest; my clothes are blood-red, and I probably don’t have long. That was it, I realize. No matter how many times I tried, I never would have been able to do it on my own. Kylie was the missing piece. Or, I should say, she and I together. Kylie had to intervene and I had to take the woman’s place. We were meant to be here now, together.