00: Goodbye – 0

“Would you be interested in a trade agreement with England?” Elizabeth I asked, leaning on the arm of her throne.

“No, Your Majesty, but I would be interested in conquering it,” I replied, leaning back on my, uh, chair. Much more comfortable than hers.

I realized too late I had said the words out loud.

My embarrassment vanished when I remembered that I lived alone.

Sighing, I traded my surplus spices for gold with her.

I knew the power-hungry bitch was planning to conquer me, just like the other six leaders, but while they were focused on raising medieval-era units, in the depths of the jungle, my universities were churning out science by hundreds.

When the idiots arrived with their armies, their knights would find my tanks waiting for them.

A yawn overpowered me. Stale air and the smell of old pizza boxes filled my lungs.

Then my head began throbbing.

I dared a glance at the clock. “9:26 AM” glared back at me.

Great. Another ‘one more turn’ that turned into an all-nighter.

Just like the last two hundred times.

Putting the computer at standby, I stumbled into the bedroom, and cringed at what I saw.

The floor was coated in a thin layer of dust.

I’d clean it later.

Sure you will.

Shut up, brain.

I was about to fall on the bed, but my mouth wouldn’t stop bothering me. I forced myself into the bathroom and squeezed some toothpaste on the brush.

As I went through the motions, I made the mistake of looking at the mirror. Blood-shot eyes surrounded by dark circles and a five-day “stubble” looked back. A few strands of gray shone under the harsh light.

Forties were creeping ever closer. No wonder I felt like shit.

A long, involuntary exhale left me.

Back in the bedroom, I stared at the bed. It called to me.

“You know what, screw it,” I said, turning back to the living room.

The 32-inch, 240Hz, 4K OLED monitor lit up in all its glory as I sat down again.

Pachacuti had to teach the upstarts why he was called the Earth Shaker. Soon, Gandhi would be kissing my feet, nukes be damned.

This was one place I was still in control of.

Before I could forget all about the world, my phone buzzed.

“Mom.”

A lump formed in my throat. I turned the phone face down on the desk, silencing the call.

The speakers chimed, almost jolting me out of my chair. A notification had popped up at the corner of the monitor.

“Reply: Application – Software Architect.”

My heart fluttered as I opened the email with trembling fingers.

“…while your qualifications are impressive, we regret to inform you that…”

My eyebrows came together in confusion, until I read the date.

Four months old, as it ought to be.

I hadn’t bothered with that nonsense for some time. Must have marked the email unread by mistake.

“Overqualified,” I scoffed. “Just say ‘blacklisted,’ you cowards.”

The bitterness vanished as soon as it had appeared, because I knew the truth.

All success and no effort had made Jack a royal prick.

A pitiful chuckle left me. I had worshiped at the altar of competence, and now I could barely convince myself to shower.

The reminder of what I had become left a bad taste in my mouth, so I focused on what I did best.

Escape.

I double-clicked the icon.

Time to kick Gandhi’s ass.

“You have defeated the innocent and the helpless.”

“No, I saved the world from your menace, you twit!”

I said out loud, again.

My eyes went to the clock. Hours had gone by.

Time for lunch.

I think there is some pizza left in the fridge.

As I leaned back and yawned, my eyes refused to move away from the window.

A haze, the kind you see atop a very hot road, was dancing there.

I was going to ignore it, when a new smell cut through the apartment’s funk.

Burning plastic. Then wood. Sharp and acrid.

My every nerve woke up.

I rushed to the window and slid it open.

A low rumble filled the air.

I leaned forward to to take a peek, and a blast of heat enveloped my head.

“Whoa!”

My body jerked back.

White-hot fire was rising out the window below me like a demonic tongue.

Coughing, I touched my head.

Crisp hair crunched between my fingers.

The air would have roasted my skin, had I remained there for even a second longer.

I almost gagged from the terrible taste the air had coated my tongue with.

Goddammit!

I ran to the desk and hurriedly shoved my wallet, laptop and backup drive into the bug out bag I had bought a long time ago. Slinging it over my shoulder, I bolted for the door and yanked it open.

A faint wall of acrid smoke billowing from the stairwell greeted me. The hot air carried the faint roar of a growing blaze. Smoke parted to reveal the bottom of the stairs, and my heart sank. Orange fire was already licking at the bottom steps.

I was stuck.

“Well, shit.”

The building had no functioning elevator or fire escape; the joys of living in a developing country, full of complacent and corrupt bureaucrats.

The only other way out were the windows, but jumping from the sixth story would be suicide.

I had contemplated it.

No.

If I ever did it, it would be my decision. I would not let anyone or anything else take that choice away.

Or I could not care about any of this self-determination crap and just end it all?

A muffled high pitched wail cut through my thoughts. From the door to the right.

Thin and panicked.

The couple who lived there had a little girl.

Holding my breath, I walked up to the door.

“Anyone in there?” I said out loud.

No one answered, except for the child’s cries.

I tried the knob.

Locked.

I looked back at the stairs, where the smoke was getting thick.

No time for politeness.

“Fuck it.”

Rearing back, I kicked the door with all my strength.

Pain shot through my leg.

The door rattled, but held.

Gritting my teeth, I gave it another kick.

Wood cracked.

Another kick, and the bolt tore free.

The door slammed open.

Inside, the little girl with chubby cheeks stopped crying as her eyes found me. Swathed in blue pajamas with dinosaur print, she was around three years old, her dark hair tied in twin tails.

Who the heck leaves a child that young alone?

No one else in sight. No sound except for the TV, on which a cartoon dragon was singing a silly song.

“Anybody home?” I shouted.

No one answered.

Must’ve gone out to buy something.

Whatever the reason, they wouldn’t be coming back.

I closed the door behind me and put a stool in front of it. There would be no going back for me.

Innocent wet eyes looked up at me with uncomfortable intensity.

It unnerved me for some reason.

Ignoring her for the moment, I took a look around the apartment.

The wall below the window of the bedroom was still free of flames.

I could’ve climbed down, if I had a proper climbing rope and any climbing experience beyond watching videos.

I would probably die going down.

When I came back into the living room, wisps of smoke had already begun slipping through the door.

It wouldn’t be long before the air in the apartment became unbreathable.

Why not just let it end here? A tired voice in my head whispered. Lie down or jump out.

I considered it.

No more bills. No more interviews. No more lying to my parents that things would improve, soon.

In a few minutes, the smoke would do the job for me.

A muffled sniffle pulled my attention away from the door.

The little girl was still watching me.

Innocent eyes, too young to understand that we were only minutes away from certain death, bore into my soul.

My throat tightened.

I looked away.

A part of me wished I hadn’t heard her crying.

A wave of nausea rolled over me.

When did I become a terrible person?

I looked back.

Her tiny hands rubbed at her eyes.

Eyes that trusted me. Considered me a responsible adult.

I almost chuckled. If only she knew.

The unanswered calls and messages asserted themselves.

All the people I had pushed away because I had cared about only one thing in life.

But the little girl needed more than just a hyper-competent engineer. She also needed someone who truly cared.

And I had wished I hadn’t heard her.

Disgusting.

She blinked at me.

I had thoroughly screwed over my life, but she had hers in front of her.

I… I wasn’t going to leave her behind to die.

She was going to have a future. A bright one.

“We’ll get out of here,” I told both her and myself.

I rifled through my bag and found a coil of paracord.

At least something good came out of being a casual prepper.

Then I began looking for a strong anchor that could take my weight.

Nothing.

No heavy-duty hooks embedded in the wall and no heavy fixtures.

I sighed, loosening my grip on the cord. The fairly long coil fell on the floor.

I could at least save the child’s life by lowering her down.

I went to a knee. “Hey. What’s your name?”

“Arya.”

“Let’s get out of here.”

“You’re that weirdo.”

“Ay! That’s not very polite. Who says that to someone’s face?”

“Daddy says you are.”

“Well your daddy’s an a-hole.”

“What’s an a-hole.”

“Your daddy is.”

“Where’s mommy?”

“Out somewhere. Let’s go on an adventure and find her, eh?”

She nodded.

Uncoiling the rope, I began building a harness around her.

She treated it like a live snake.

“Stop squirming!” I almost shouted. “You have to stay still or we can’t go down.”

Then she began screaming. Loudly. Right next to my ear.

The little gremlin tried to bite me, and I was just fast enough to pull my hand back in time.

Sighing, I let the rope fall to the floor. This wasn’t going to work.

She was too young for this. One slip of the knot and—

No.

We would have to go down together. Somehow.

I flopped on the bed.

Arya resumed her favorite activity; staring at me.

Get up. You need to solve this.

I pushed myself up with a groan.

Another round of search for an anchor yielded nothing. Then I smacked my forehead.

Bending down, I checked the bed’s legs. Solid hardwood.

I tested the joints.

Possible.

Not ideal, just like the paracord, but it was the best I had.

I tied one end of the cord to the leg closest to the window and pulled, putting my entire weight behind it.

It screeched across the floor.

Shit.

I shoved the bed against the wall with all my strength, then tried again. This time, the bed stayed put.

I gave the rope another tug.

The frame creaked.

Very little, but just enough to make my stomach drop.

A proper anchor wouldn’t budge at all.

I didn’t have a proper anchor.

The bed would have to do.

Lifting Arya up, I tied her to my chest with some rope and a few shirts.

“Where’s my mommy?” she asked again.

“Not in the building. That’s why we are going out.”

She began crying again, kicking her little legs very close to my jewels, while her little fingers clutched my shirt with all their strength.

My grimace worsened as I rigged a rappel harness around me, then let out a slow breath.

A rope that wasn’t meant to handle dynamic loads, a harness meant for worst-case scenarios and a bloody bed as an anchor. Everything was jerry-rigged.

But the air was already getting hot.

We didn’t have long.

Arya had finally quieted down.

“Hey Arya, want to play a game?”

“What?”

“You close your eyes and make a spell to fly us out of this building. Can you do that?”

She nodded emphatically, squeezing her little eyes shut.

Good. That should help with the descent.

I leaned out the window to look down at the ground and my heart almost leapt into my mouth. It looked far more distant, now that I had to rappel down on my sketchy setup.

People were gathering below. Shouting and pointing. The firefighters would have been alerted, but it would take them time to arrive.

Time we didn’t have.

My eyes were already beginning to sting.

The air would become unbreathable within a minute.

The angelic face, squinting her eyes with all her strength, hardened my resolve.

“Not today.”

Despite my shaking legs, I managed to somehow get myself out the window. My feet scrabbled for purchase, the rope hissing through my hands as I began to rappel.

Release, stop! Release, stop! Release, stop!

I chanted the mantra as my palms, soft from months at a keyboard, burned with the strain of repeatedly releasing and gripping the rope. My body was shaking, but I was doing it.

As I managed to lower us down a story, my frown turned into a hopeful smile.

We are going to make it!

Then, the rope went slack.

For one instant, the world became weightless.

The bed’s leg must’ve given out or the stupid cord snapped.

It didn’t matter.

I would not survive a five story fall.

But maybe the little girl would.

Please let her live.

Those were my last thoughts as I curled myself around her and shut my eyes.