Page 59 of Pure Killers

I look down at myself, smell myself, or smell the apartment. I’m not sure which. “I uh, I need to clean up a bit. Dinner instead?”

He answers quickly and affirmatively, clearly not one for being on the phone.

I hang up and press my face to my hands, realising I need to get cleaned up now.

***

I don't feel like being in a restaurant, surrounded by the clinking of glasses, and the chatter of people, to risk someone recognising me, so Seb and I buy sandwiches and eat on the edge of the park, looking into the fairy-lights that web the trees. He's naturallyquiet, and I'm not feeling talkative, so we sit in comfortable silence for a time. It just feels good to be out, distracted from everything, for a while. I showered and put on clean clothes. There's a mountain of laundry waiting for me at home.

"It’s p-pretty, from here," Seb comments, and I follow his gaze to the city lights.

"Less so up close." I smile.

He hums a laugh. The weather is warmer, clear and crisp tonight. He still wears a beanie and a woollen jumper with a wide collar up to his chin.

My eyes linger on him, his cheek. I shiver a little in the breeze, pulling my coat tighter. "You're not scared to be seen with me? You must have seen the news."

Seb nods slowly. "I heard. That’s h-harsh. But this city… p-people will move on. Yest-terdays n-news and all." He tilts his head. "Will you move on?"

I smile. "I'm trying."

He walks me home. We go the long way, lingering on the streets that are as quiet as they ever get so close to Downtown. I slip my hand into the crook of his elbow and try to enjoy the sleeping city. But there's an uneasiness there, a wrongness I put down to my recent self-incarceration, but nonetheless, it leaves me on edge.

At the door of my building, I turn to face Seb. He glances towards the gate, lingering with me. Maybe I should take him upstairs, distract myself in a different way. It could be cleansing. On impulse, I step forward and kiss him, hands resting gently on the soft wool of his jumper.

His hands brush my waist, but before he holds me properly, I've pulled back all the way back. I touch my chin, my mind tripping over itself. I’ve never done that before, and yet I know those lips, that taste.

But no, that’s not possible. It can’t be.

"Something wrong?"

Words stick in my throat, and a beat later, he asks, "Aren’t you going to invite me in?"

"Nothing, I just…" I shake my head, stopping myself abruptly. He didn’t stutter, not even a tremble. I'm staring at him again, and he's transforming in front of my eyes. Like I’m really seeing him for the first time. His eyes are green through the lenses of his glasses. In the half-light I know them too well. By the time I take in the rest of his face, his mouth has lost that crooked lilt, and his shoulders sit straighter.

Suddenly he's familiar, known.

This, right here, is my killer.

***

"Let’s go inside."

My hand, the key in it, is a fist against my chest. "Seb?"

His head tilts incrementally, not agreeing, not disagreeing. "You wanted to know. We've got some things to talk about."

I take a step back, forgetting the edge behind me. His hand snakes out, catching my hip. I jolt away from that too, up against the gate now."Don't."

He drops his hand; he waits.

"You… the lab." He's been among us this entire time. Handling our evidenceon him. I even took him his own saliva.

Inconclusive results.

"Yes. But not here. We need to be alone."

I shake my head, hand trembling around my key. "I'm not going anywhere with you."

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