I Am the Messenger - Page 123

But Bernie only laughs.

He says, "You still don't understand, Ed, do you?"

"Understand what?"

He looks up at me and takes his time. "They do it because they can." The voice is tired but true. Determined. "It's all been worked out long ago. At least a year."

"Did they tell you that?"

"Yes."

"In those words?"

"Yes."

We stand there a good few minutes, thinking, till Bernie dismisses us. "Come on," he says, "you kids get back down there. I'll have this reel up and running in a minute."

Back in the foyer, I lean against the door, and Audrey speaks.

"Is it always like this?"

"Pretty much," I answer, and she can only shake her head and stay silent. "We better go," I tell her, and after a few attempts, I convince her to go back into the cinema. "It's nearly over," I say, and for some reason I assume Audrey thinks I'm talking about the movie.

But me

?

I don't think about movies anymore.

I don't think about anything.

Except cards.

Except aces.

The screen is still blank as we walk down the aisle.

When it comes alive, the scene is dark and I see the feet of some young men. They're walking.

Ahead, they approach a lone figure on the street.

It's a street of this town.

The figure is also of this town.

I stop walking.

Immediately.

Audrey goes a little further until she turns and sees me with my eyes transfixed on the screen.

I only point at first.

Then I say, "That's me there, Audrey."

On the screen, we watch the footage of the Rose boys and their friends leaping onto me and mauling me on the street.

Standing in the aisle, I feel the scars on my face.

Tags: Markus Zusak
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