Chapter
42
Quantum
Indeterminancy
It seems to me I am trying to tell you a
dream--making a vain attempt, because no relation of a dream can convey the
dream-sensation, that commingling of absurdity, surprise, and bewilderment in a
tremor of struggling revolt, that notion of being captured by the incredible
which is of the very essence of dreams...No, it is impossible; it is impossible
to convey the life-sensation of any given epoch of one's existence--that which
makes its truth, its meaning--its subtle and penetrating essence. It is impossible.
We live, as we dream-alone... – Joseph Conrad
Marie waited for the bullet to come with
her eyes closed. She waited in a state
of heightened awareness. And she
waited. She had seen Patel pull the
trigger of the Glock. She heard the
explosion in the barrel, sending the bullet on its way to her face. This was it.
And she waited another second.
Okay, it was too long. How could
he have missed? She opened her eyes.
Wallace Patel stood there frozen in terror,
his lips quivering, his eyes already tearing.
He pulled the trigger once again.
Again the loud pop of the gunshot.
This time Marie didn’t close her eyes.
Time seemed to slow down enough for her to watch the bullet coming
straight for her. And in a flash it was
there. But it did nothing. It passed completely through her eye and
head, leaving no trace, no pain, no impact, no force. Nothing.
At first she assumed shock had taken hold of her, and she expected to
collapse dead in any second. But, she
didn’t. She just stood there, watching
further horror engulf her assailants face.
He pulled the gun down and looked at it, dumbfounded.
“How, did you do that?” he asked in a
shocked disbelief. He pointed the weapon
at a nearby rock and fired again. This
time the loud report was followed by a chuck flying off the rock.
He looked at Marie again. Raised the gun again, and fired once more,
this time at Marie’s heart. And again they were both equally surprised to watch
as the bullet sailed seamlessly, painlessly through her, with no accompanying
disruption of flesh or organ, no bullet hole, no sign of disturbance
whatsoever.
The gunshots had drawn the attention of
onlookers on the path below them. Both the
would-be victim and her assailant watched as cell phones were raised, and
shouts followed. Patel lowered his
weapon in complete disbelief, momentarily unsure as to how to proceed. The plan ended with the first pull of the
trigger at pointblank range.
Marie almost felt sorry for him, standing
there, his victim completely and supernaturally unharmed after his
efforts. Confusion knitted his brows.
“What are you?” Patel asked.
Their eyes locked in a bond of wonder and surprise.
“She’s my girlfriend,” answered a familiar
voice to the side.
In an instant Wallace Patel collapsed in
response to Barry Allen’s fist to his jaw.
“Right back at you, Wally, and I think I do
have hard feelings.” Marie’s hero said.
Barry looked at Marie, grabbed her hand and
pulled her towards the car, “Come on, we’d better be going. Pronto.
We’ll let Wally deal with the cops.”
They dashed back down the trail, where
Marie thought that mountain goats might think twice, as the path came much
closer to the ledge over shear bluffs and cliff faces than she had recalled on
the way up. Their adrenaline and gravity
carried them quickly back down. And
they were in the Pueguot speeding and weaving at an alarming rate through the
narrow mountain roads.
“How?”
Was all she managed to get out of her mouth.
Barry smiled, “Quantum Indeterminancy."
copyright 2017 Diana Hignutt
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