Kristin by Michael Ashley Torrington

— an airliner bound for Zurich. Three hundred died.’
    Thom dug his fingernails
into his scalp.
    ‘I’m not sure what’s
happening out there either, some sort of mass psychosis, maybe? According to
the reports things seem localized at the moment,   but there’s talk of disturbances outside London.’
    Nathan drained his glass.
    ‘Get rid of her, Thom,
throw her out. At best, she’s a nutter or a psychopath. But maybe she ’ s something much , much worse ?’
    ‘ ... Oh , Nathan , come on. ’
    ‘Everything ties in with
her arrival, doesn’t it?’
    ‘ For fuck’s sake.’
    ‘How well do you really
know her?’
    ‘I know I love her, that I must have
her.’
    ‘I assume you’ve already
had her, Thom? Now get rid of the weird fucking bitch.’
    Although they spoke in
hushed whispers, Kristin’s hearing was acute and   she digested Nathan’s every word. Her flesh prickled, her
brow darkened.

 
    Fifty minutes later they sat at the dining
table picking at the meal she’d prepared, the silence punctuated by sounds of
turmoil from the streets outside. The considerate, gentle woman who’d tended Nathan’s
lacerated face so humanely had gone and he squirmed each time she looked at
him, her eyes probing deeper and deeper, devouring him from the inside out. She had heard
them.
    ‘So, Nathan, how long have
you known Thom?’ she asked, watching every move he made.
    ‘Long time,’ he answered,
brusquely. ‘Long enough to recognize when he’s made a serious error of
judgement.’
    Thom stopped pushing the
food around his plate.
    ‘ And do you think he’s
made one?’
    ‘I believe he sometimes
thinks with his heart instead of his head.’
    ‘Nathan, leave it.’
    ‘No, please,’ she insisted.
‘I’d like to know if Nathan doesn’t agree with   something, doesn’t approve of me.’
    ‘I’m not saying that I
disapprove of you, I just don’t know you.’
    ‘You mean you don’t trust
me … ?’
    ‘I mean I don’t know you.’
    ‘I don’t know you, but I’m
not prejudging you.’
    He strained to keep his
eyes on her. Her grip on the wine glass tightened. ‘I’m not prejudging you, I’m
using my eyes, my ears ... ’
    ‘To see what ... to hear
what?’
    The peculiar scent of the
perspiration evaporating from her lilywhite flesh in waves made his stomach
turn.
    ‘Everything that’s
happening. Can’t you see it, can’t you hear it?’
    ‘All is as it should be,’
she muttered, her voice extraneous, hollow.
    He pushed his chair back
from the table. ‘ ... What the fuck does that mean?’
    ‘Nathan, just leave
things,’ Thom urged.
    He backed down, and they
sat in silence for some time.
    ‘Thom told me what happened
in the park,’ Nathan resumed. ‘He thinks it’s all in his head. But the park is
burned, hundreds of people are dead. There are dismembered, rotting remains of
people on streets all over London and nobody cares. Nothing is as it should be.’
    She exhaled noisily, and
the glass exploded in her hand.
    ‘Nathan, shut the fuck up!’
Thom shouted.
    Kristin slammed her fork
into the table, narrowly missing Nathan’s hand, and Thom grabbed her wrist. A
stream of bright red blood trickled from her nostrils and her eyes were wild as
she shook her head in vehement denial.
    Nathan felt an invisible hand
constrict his heart. ‘ ... Why don ’ t ... you tell us
what you really are ... you   goddamned freak ?’ he groaned.
    Thom lunged and caught him
with a sharp blow under the chin, knocking him from his chair. He picked himself
up, laughed bitterly and staggered to the bathroom.

 
    ‘.... He’s scared, that’s all,’ Thom said,
presently. ‘He’s searching for answers, we all are.’
    ‘And so you defend him?’
    ‘There are things happening
out there that are impossible for the human   mind to grasp, it’s bound to lead to overreaction.’
    ‘No, the fucker thinks I’m
responsible for all the bad things that are happening. Did you see the way he
looked at