Marredbury Episode 13

Belated Merry Christmas and The End, for now

Marredbury is a serial anthology. Episodes include the found digital artifacts of Carla Bird in New Town Marredbury. followed by the files encrypted by her grandmother in Old Town Marredbury. See a full description and start from the beginning here if you are new to the series.

I hope you all had a wonderful holiday season with your loved ones. Mine was busy (as usual), with some extra family traveling to join us this year. It was fun to celebrate Christmas with my daughter being a little older. She figured out what presents were, enjoyed her time with her cousins. Next year, she’ll understand Santa! That’ll be fun :)

I’m in a very brief lull between Christmas and New Years. We celebrate big with my husband’s family for New Years, another round of family time, great food, and celebration. Before we get busy with our own travels for New Years, I wanted to share the final episode of this Marredbury season. Similar to Episode 5, this is a rough draft for the short story. I can’t say early draft. I have been working on this story for years. I watched Quentin Taratino movies and stuided nonlinear story telling through Julio Cortazar and Ted Chiang, before finally coming to the conclusion that I need to tell this story in order. A writer friend made a great point about the tension being lost by telling the story out of order. Sigh… oh well!

This is my long explanation that I still have work I’d like to do on this story, but I need some space for now. Edwin and the other characters could use some more development, but I’ve been staring at the words too long. I’m ready to move on and return to it later. All suggestions are welcome! Let me know what you think.

This episode is brought to you by Charmed.

The original series. I haven’t seen the new series. I’ve been rewatching the show off and on ever since I was pregnant. I enjoy the campy-ness of the 90s and early 00s fantasies. And you can’t go wrong with a bunch of ass-kicking women, right? I’m on the last season now, so I’ve been watching it a bit more frequently. I really like how they ended this series, so I’m excited to get to the end.

I have a confession. I was supposed to get this episode out to you yesterday, but I woke up worn out! So I watched a few episodes of Charmed instead. I’m calling it self-care. Thank you all for your patience :)

And now:

Episode 13: The End for now

Copies

Photo by MJ Bain

Edwin unlocked his front door and stepped into the dark, quiet house. He paused a moment in the doorway. Annie always arrived home before him, but no sound warbled from the television, no light leaked into the hall.

“Honey?” he called into the silent darkness.

Edwin hadn’t been afraid of the dark since he was a boy, but the childhood fear moistened his palms and thudded in his chest as he ventured further into the house. He had just spoken to Annie on his way home. She should be there, but the entryway was dark and empty, the living room ghostly quiet. He should have called for her again but his voice stuck in his throat.

A single light shone from the kitchen. Creeping forward, Edwin recognized the yellow glow of the oven light. He stood in the threshold. The light was too dim to illuminate the whole room. A tangy scent tickled his nose. He stepped through the threshold, like walking through a curtain of the thick iron smell. It crowded his nostrils and clung to his tongue. His foot slipped on a wet floor and he crashed to his knees. By then, his eyes had adjusted to the dim space and he spotted her hand in front of the oven.

From the floor, he viewed her arm stretched out, reaching. Edwin crawled around the island to find her body sprawled behind it. A red gash disfigured her forehead. Her eyes stared straight ahead, unseeing. A moan slipped past Edwin’s tightening throat and he collapsed at her side. He struggled to lift her into his lap with his quivering body. Whimpers escaped his lips.

No. No. No. No.

Annie’s white blouse had been stained red. Blood pooled around her and spread across the linoleum. Edwin’s gaze settled on her parted lips. He watched, waiting, just one breath, the smallest exhale, anything. Moments passed in silence. His vision blurred with tears and sorrow heavied his shoulders. She wouldn’t breathe. She was gone.

His life spiraled before him. Almost twenty years together, eighteen of them married. She was gone. The words echoed in his head. Gone. Gone. He hadn’t been there to protect her. His entire world lay in his arms, body still warm, but cooling.

Annie believed they had a connection. She knew when he had a bad day at work, sent him food when he was hungry. She called it their psychic link. Edwin called it being married. All the time they spent together. You get to know a person well.

He pressed his fingers to his forehead, the same spot where Annie bled. He searched his skull for any ache or pain. A blemish or bruise. Anything to keep their link together. He should have known. Annie would have called to check on him, would have asked him how his head felt. How could she have the connection, while he was left in the dark.

Time stilled. Thoughts slipped past him unnoticed. Should he worry that whoever hurt his Annie could still be around? No, not hurt. Killed. Tears ran down his face. He should call the police. But they’d make him let her go. Edwin tightened his hold around his wife’s lifeless body. He’d never hold her again.

Eventually, he slipped his cell from his pocket and dialed for help. A man answered: “911, what’s your emergency?”

Edwin opened his mouth to respond, but the words were stopped in his dry throat. He swallowed past the sandpaper surface and tried again, “My wife—“

A crash sounded in the backyard. From his position on the floor, Edwin craned his neck to get a view. He hadn’t noticed the open back door.

“Hello?” The 911 operator called from the other line.

Edwin laid Annie on the floor. He tucked her hair behind her ear and pressed his palm to her cheek, a good bye that ripped a hole through him. Then, he stood up to investigate the open door.

“Are you still there? Do I need to send help?” The operator called again.

“Yes.” Edwin responded as he approached the back door and hung up. He stood in the doorway and studied the darkness. One step outside would trigger the porch light, but he didn’t want to scare anything away. Not yet.

Dark forms, two of them, rushed across the lawn. Two people, one taller than the other. When they reached the fence, the taller one helped the other climb over.

Edwin had never been a hero. Never wanted to stand out. This was a job for police, but they couldn’t come quick enough. They were getting away. Annie’s killers were getting away.

“Hey!” He stepped onto the porch. The light illuminated the yard. The shorter figure made it over the fence. The other one transformed into a man under the light. His head whipped around at the sound of his voice. The locked eyes. The adrenaline must have played tricks on his senses. It pumped through Edwin, his breathing shorter, tears pooled over his vision, and his heart thudding in his chest.

His own face stared back at him. The same nose, same mouth, same mousy brown hair.

“What?” Edwin’s mouth hung open. He couldn’t comprehend what he was seeing.

The other man, the other Edwin, reached for the top of the fence. He lifted himself over with the ease of a younger man.

“No!” Edwin forced his feet forward. Grief and fear masked the ache in his middle aged knees. He raced to the fence, but couldn’t reach it before his strange look-alike disappeared over the other side.

Sirens wailed in the distance. Edwin searched for any sign of the blue and red lights. He reached the fence and grabbed the top to lift himself high enough to get a view. A large undeveloped lot stretched beyond. A single street light shined over the sidewalk on the other end of the field.

“Eddie!”

Annie’s voice carried through the night breeze. Her nickname for him. Edwin squinted in the darkness. He held himself over the top of the fence. His arms began to quake. He heard her. It was Annie’s voice. Or was it just wishful grief?

“Eddie!”

Again. No doubt this time. With the sirens still pealing, Edwin grunted and lifted himself over the fence. Standing in the open field, he glanced back at his house and pictured Annie’s lifeless body in the dim kitchen.

“Eddie!”

The voice pleaded. Edwin could hear her tears. A part of him snatched the notion that he had been mistaken. That wasn’t Annie on the cold tile. His wife called for him. She needed him. She called one more time and he sprinted through the field. Sprinted to Annie.

In the distance, Edwin spotted the strange couple under the street light. They paused, facing the house. They had to see Edwin approaching. Were they mocking him? What waited for him on that sidewalk? Edwin’s chest ached from running. He huffed and stumbled over a divot in the field. For just a moment, he looked to his feet, wincing through the pain of a rolled ankle. When he looked back up, the couple was gone.

He’d lost them. Annie’s killers or at least someone who may have answered. He limped back across the field. His rolled ankle throbbed, and he welcomed the pain. Lost them. He had no idea who they were, where they would go. As he progressed toward his backyard fence, Edwin numbed. He didn’t notice his ankle. Didn’t notice the sharp stitch in his side. He climbed back over the fence, slower this time around.

His feet grew heavier in the backyard. The porch light flicked back on once it sensed his movement. That’s when he saw the slip of paper on the concrete. He picked it up. It was a train ticket to the city, one he’d only heard about on the news and in music. Annie had talked about visiting it one day. The words printed across the ticket squeezed pain through his heart.

It wasn’t her ticket. It had to be the strangers’.

Edwin slipped the ticket into his back pocket and re-entered his home. Annie lay where he left her. He dropped to his knees beside Annie’s body. He no longer hoped that the woman calling his name was his Annie. He knew her, knew the scar under her bottom lip from a childhood accident, knew the the ring on her left finger, the band missing one diamond that never seemed to bother Annie, every imperfection that made Annie the woman he loved. He scooped her up, pressed her cheek to her chest, and inhaled deeply, seeking past the tangy scent of blood to her shampoo, peony and rose. Edwin closed his eyes and focused on that scent. He studied the way her body felt against his, knowing that he will never hold her again. The police would be there soon and he had to be gone before they arrived.

Edwin studied the faces of the passengers around him as the train began moving. He walked up and down the aisles, searching. Halfway through the journey, he lost hope that the train ticket had been theirs. He escaped his home for the police to discover Annie without him. They would be looking for him. Edwin wasn’t bothered by the chase when he believed he was chasing the real killers, but the ticket could have flown into his backyard with a strong breeze. Maybe Annie really did buy a ticket to the city and she planned to surprise him.

Or he could have missed them. The train carried hundreds of passengers. The strangers could have spotted him and hid in the bathroom or slipped into the first class cars in the front.

After a third lap up and down the train cars, Edwin took his seat again. He picked at the delicate skin around his fingernails and watched the scenery fly by through the window.

By the time the train stopped at its destination, Edwin had picked at his cuticles until they bled. He had scrubbed his hands in the bathroom sink at home, but they were stained with blood again. He wiped the mess away on his pants, patted his pockets to ensure he had his phone and wallet still on him, and stepped off the train. He’d made it this far. He could look around before taking a train ride home.

He spotted them the moment he stepped off the train. The same man and woman. Her familiarity knocked the air from his lungs. Edwin knew her. He had woken up to her face for the last thirty-five years. He knew the softness of her lips. But he didn’t know this woman. He didn’t recognize the person behind those dark eyes.

And the man next to her… was him. His own eyes stared back at him from a different face. The two men matched like copies. Both of them, a replica. One of Edwin and one of Annie.

Breathless, Edwin’s gaze flicked to the copy of his Annie. His beloved Annie. After decades together, his heart still stuttered at the sight of her. Even now, he could almost believe his Annie stood tiptoe on the platform. Her dark hair whipped in the breeze of the exiting train, hair that was no longer soaked in blood as it was when Edwin last saw it.

Edwin weaved through the crowd streaming from the train, avoiding benches and rolling suitcases. Twelve hours since he discovered Annie’s murder. His body buzzed from caffeine and lack of sleep. He needed answers and these copies had them. Edwin was sure.

On the platform, he caught the eye of his double. His copy’s eyes widened and he grabbed Annie’s hand—

Not Annie. Edwin reminded himself. Annie’s dead.

The doubles didn’t hesitate. They ran.

“Hey!” Edwin pointed. “Someone stop them!”

Travelers turned away. They eyed Edwin, pointing and whispering with companions. His shouting parted a space for Edwin to pursue. He chased the doubles up the stairs and out of the terminal.

Outside, the sun flared. Edwin squinted. He scanned the sidewalk and found the copies half a block away. They clambered into the backseat of a cab. Copy Annie glanced over her shoulder. She met Edwin’s gaze. Her cheeks were flushed from the run, her eyes wet with terror. She slipped in and slammed the door. Edwin waved his arm to hail one of his own.

“Follow them,” he huffed while diving into the back seat.

“You got it.” The cabbie hit the gas.

The copies’ taxi kept to busy streets, swerving between lanes to rush through traffic. Edwin sat on the edge of his seat, hands gripping the interior leather, eyes glued to the yellow taxi. The city blurred on either side of him. He only saw the copies, the backs of their heads side by side through the back window. They ran. From him. Right?

Annie’s dead eyes flashed through his mind. The look of real fear made Edwin’s stomach turn. He still felt her cooling skin against his and yearned to touch her just one more time.

He squeezed his eyes shut, willing the snapshots away. He had to focus on the present and the killers two cars in front of him.

The took a quick right onto a small side street. Edwin followed. Their taxi pulled to the curb the two copies climbed out.

“Stop! Stop! Stop!” Edwin smacked the driver’s shoulder over and over.

The driver pulled over. Edwin tossed the fare into his lap, eyes focused on the copies as they hustled up the street. While he hurried out of the taxi, they turned into an alley. Edwin raced after them. His aching knees protested. His breathing quickened, chest heavy from the exertion the night before.

He followed the younger versions of himself and Annie, into a dark alley. The tall buildings on either side of him blocked the shining sun, leaving the air dank and chilled.

Copy Edwin helped Copy Annie up a fire escape. She looked like Annie, but something about the way she moved wasn’t his wife.

He followed close behind. The metal frame rattled. Each clang vibrated the whole structure. Edwin was positive the whole thing would coming crashing down. His breath grew shorter with the effort.

The other Annie looked down, wide-eyed, just as she had in the backyard, scared of the consequences of what she had done. But her eyes looked past him.

Edwin followed her gaze. Two strangers stood at the end of the alley. Probably residents of the apartment buildings Edwin and the Copies were now climbing.

Copy Edwin guided Annie off the fire escape and then climbed over the edge to the roof himself.

“Go! Go! Go!” The voice sounded just like Edwin. The real Edwin brought his fingers to his mouth to confirm that his had not moved.

The strangers at the end of the alley didn’t move. Edwin climbed the rest of the fire escape. Another clang, this one close to where his hand gripping the final landing before the roof. The metal sparked. Edwin snapped his gaze to the strangers on the ground.

They didn’t live in the apartments. He understood that now. Both were dressed in dark suits. Wide brimmed hats shadowed their faces. Each aimed a gun in his direction.

They fired again. The bullet hit the stucco beside Edwin. A piece of debris sliced his cheek. He reached for the edge of the roof, hunched to be as small a target as possible. Another shot of gun fire echoed around him. He wouldn’t make it. Annie’s killers were before him, but he was doomed to meet a similar fate as his wife.

Then, a familiar hand reached for his.

Copy Annie tugged Edwin over the edge of the roof. He dropped her hand as soon as his feet touched the graveled surface. He wheezed from the climb. Tears filled Copy Annie’s eyes. His Annie always cried, happy tears, sad tears. He caught the scent of them standing next to them, not the sweet scent of his Annie. This Annie smelled sterile, disinfected. Copy Edwin carried the same scent. The warmth of this woman’s skin stuck to his skin. An image of Annie’s bloody corpse flashed in his mind.

He looked away from the copy and leaned forward, hands on knees, to catch his breath, all the while rubbing the one that touched the copy against his slacks.

“Who—“ Words escaped Edwin while his breath was still heavy from the climb. “Why—“

What do you say to doubles who murdered your wife?

“I’m so sorry.” Her voice was hushed, more raspy that his wife’s.

Edwin had never felt an urge to hurt another person before. Never a woman. Especially someone who looked so much like Annie. But the horrid wish crossed his mind. He blinked it away. Behind him, the fire escape rattled with new climbers. The two men were joining them.

Copy Annie pulled Copy Edwin to his feet. She urged Edwin to follow.

“Come on!” She shouted to both Edwins.

Her heels clicked as she raced down the stairs. They exited the concrete stairwell through the first door. Through that door, carpet quieted her steps, but she breathed heavy and loud. Doors lined either side of the long hallway, personal touches like house plants and welcome mats customizing the identical entrance to the apartments.

“No elevator?” Copy Edwin’s head swiveled side to side.

“Doesn’t look like it.” Copy Annie gave him a shove.

Edwin took the stairs two at a time. He was sure he’d lose his footing and tumble down. A broken neck would be a blessing at this point, but he made it to the bottom. Copy Edwin held the door open, waving his arm.

Outside the apartment building, Copy Annie hailed another cab. They all climbed in. As the car door closed, the two men emerged from the building, and the taxi drove away.

“What sort of touble are you guys in?” A middle aged Asian man eyed them through his rear view mirror. He narrowed his gaze, waiting, but it never came. “I’m dropping you a couple blocks from here. You’ll be away from those two, and I wipe my hands of this mess.”

“Thank you.” Copy Annie sighed.

“You guys are related, right? Father and son?” The driver gestured to Edwin and Copy Edwin.

“No.” The men answered in unison.

The cab driver raised an eyebrow but said nothing else. He pulled to the curb after the promised blocks. Edwin paid with cash and led the way out.

They’d been dropped on the corner of a busy street. The sky was dark, but red lanterns stretched over the street and twinkle lights wrapped around trees, lighting the street. Tourists walked in groups, chatting and laughing. The trio stood in the middle of the sidewalk, forcing the patrons to move around them.

“You owe me an explanation.” Edwin pointed a finger at each of them. Adrenaline still pumped through him, making his body vibrate. He wanted answers. He deserved them.

“Of course.” Copy Annie reached for Edwin, intending to take his hand, but he pulled away. He wasn’t going to be comforted by his wife’s murderer.

Edwin allowed himself to be lead to a Chinese restaurant. The restaurant was on the second floor of a brick building. The sign out front was written in Chinese characters. Below it, in English, it read: Far East Cafe, and advertised food, cocktails, and live music.

Inside, a few tables were filled. To Edwin’s relief, the live music hadn’t started yet. A young hostess seated them beside the stage. The Copies asked for water, but Edwin ordered a Jack and Coke. Something to calm the shivers buzzing through him.

The server returned to a silent table. She set their drinks in front of them. They turned down her offer of food. When the server left them, Edwin sipped his drink. He stared at Copy Annie over the edge of his glass, searching for something different. A curl that twirled in a different direction. Any wrinkle or freckle that his Annie didn’t have.

Copy Edwin cleared his throat. “I’m sure you recognize us.”

Edwin scoffed. He took a gulp of his drink.

“I know this must be confusing and scary.” Copy Edwin even sounded like the real Edwin. His tone and pace were identical. Edwin could hear himself talking to an upset customer in the same way.

“Can I get another?” Edwin held an empty glass up when he made eye contact with their server.

“We didn’t ask for this, I swear.” Copy Annie leaned over the table to whisper to him.

Copy Edwin placed his hands on the table. Real Edwin scrutinized them. They were different. The first difference he’d found. The skin on the copy’s hand was rough and discolored, the tops of his hands dotted with raised bumps, a few fingers crooked.

“Where did you guys come from?” Real Edwin asked.

Copy Annie glanced at Copy Edwin before answering.

“A lab,” she said. “We don’t know where or any names. It’s my first memory, the white walls, no windows, only locked doors. That’s where we were made.”

Edwin caught the word. Made. Not born.

“I didn’t meet Annie until we were sent to the factory.” Copy Edwin wrapped his arms around her shoulders. “The second I laid eyes on her, I knew her. Not just her name, but I knew her soul. In an instant we were connected, something metaphysical.”

A psychic connection. The words chilled Edwin. He closed his eyes. His Annie, the real Annie, had her head on his bare chest. She circled her fingers between his chest hair. He ran his fingers up and down her back, enjoying the soft feel of her skin.

Copy Annie’s voice dragged Edwin from the memory.

“They were going to kill us in that factory. We couldn’t stay there.” Annie wrapped her arms around herself. The sleeves of her pea coat rode up her arms, revealing similar scars as the ones on Copy Edwin’s hands. “I’m so sorry, Edwin. We never meant for any of this to happen!”

The server arrived with his second drink. He left it untouched. Tears sprang to his eyes again. Copy Annie dug at the hole in his heart, the one that appeared when he found his Annie dead on the kitchen floor.

“Why’d you have to kill her?” His voice was soft and broken.

Copy Annie gasped. She shook her head quickly. Her eyes filled with tears.

“We didn’t hurt your wife.” Copy Edwin leaned forward. “I swear.”

“They did it.” Annie’s voice was hoarse. “They thought she was me.”

Tears spilled down Copy Annie’s face. She wiped her nose with the back of her hand.

“We didn’t know what to do when we escaped. We just ran. It was like we were drawn to your house. To you.” She sniffed. “We never wanted to put you in danger. I wish it were me, not her.”

Copy Edwin took her hand. Real Edwin collapsed against the back of his chair. He remembered his drink and seized it.

“Who is ‘they’?” He didn’t recognize his own voice. The words slipping past his lips were even, emotionless.

“Our owners.” Copy Edwin pulled his shirt color down, revealing a faded tattoo of a barcode and a list of numbers below. “They bought us from the lab.”

Edwin frowned. “Like slaves?”

“In a way, yes.” The copy shrugged. “I’m not sure we are technically human.”

Edwin studied the people in front of him. Flesh and blood. Apparently flesh and blood made in a laboratory. Like in vitro. He and Annie had attempted the process decades ago. If it had worked, their baby would have been human, though, not these inhuman copies. He pressed his thumb and forefinger on either side of his head. An ache throbbed behind his eyes.

“They’ll take us dead or alive. As long as we aren’t discovered. We’re not supposed to exist,” Copy Edwin continued.

Copy Annie presented her palms. Edwin stared a moment, unable to comprehend the sight. They were smooth. No wrinkles across the knuckles. No finger prints. A rubber doll’s hands. He lifted his own hand to touch her, but thought better of it and gripped his glass instead.

“Are there others like you?” He asked.

“Thousands.”

“And they are copies of real people too?”

The copies nodded.

“How?”

They shook their heads. Edwin’s DNA could have been collected anywhere, he supposed. A blood sample taken during a routine appointment. A napkin he blew his nose in and discarded. He finished his second drink.

“I’ll help you.” Real Edwin set the glass back on the table.

“What?” Copy Annie cocked her head to the side.

“I’ll help keep you safe.”

“Why?”

Fatigue hit Edwin. His limbs grew heavier. His entire body ached. He sighed. “Annie would’ve helped.”

Edwin took the lead this time, exiting the restaurant and locating the closest train station. The city provided safety in numbers, but they couldn’t stay much longer. He didn’t know how the Copies worked, but he needed to sleep. He was ready to push his body, but the two drinks and the deluge of world altering information left his mind foggy. He hesitated finding a hotel room in the city, just as he was reluctant to go back to Marredbury, home.

“We need to go back,” Edwin decided.

His copy shook his head. Annie’s look alike whimpered and the other Edwin took her plastic-like hand.

“We can’t do that,” he said.

“What’s your plan?” Edwin asked. “You can’t just run. I can help you in Marredbury.”

“You’ll help us?” Copy Annie said.

Edwin studied the younger version of his wife. A different woman, but the same features he found home in for decades. Speaking to her made him miss Annie less. The rawness of her passing, the injustice of her death, still ached like an open wound, but this Annie had her eyes and her lips. Her eyes still blinked. Breath still passed through her lips.

Copy Edwin put an arm around her. He nodded at Edwin. “Thank you.”

They agreed that the police in Marredbury were less of a threat than the men after the Copies.

“What if the police are involved?” Copy Annie suggested. “The lab could be paying them off, keep people from poking around.”

“What else can we do?” Copy Edwin squeezed her shoulder.

The train ride back to the Marredbury station dragged on. Edwin couldn’t settle, despite his desperate need to rest. While he watched the fast moving scenery through the window, he itched with the thought that someone watched him. Would he recognize the men who had shot at him? Would someone else be following them?

The Copies sat in the two seats across from him. Copy Annie slept on her counterpart’s shoulder. Edwin avoided the gaze of his copy. His own eyes on him unsettled him. He sat rigid the entire trip, his nerves at their breaking point when they finally arrived.

They hustled through the train station for a second time. The night was fading into morning when they caught the train in the city. Now, almost noon, the sun shined above them.

“We can’t go back to your home, can we?” Annie brushed Edwin’s arm. The touch made him yearn for his real wife. He looked back at her, lower lip trembling, and she pulled away.

Edwin cleared his throat. “No. We can’t go back there. The people after you could be waiting for us there.”

Further doubt quivered in his gut. They shouldn’t have returned. They should have left the country, cross the border under the black cloak of night.

They walked the sidewalk with no destination in mind. Again, Edwin pondered visiting the police station, turning himself and his companions in. But he had trouble working up the nerve. He didn’t know who to trust.

There was a Trader Joe’s grocery story across the street and a large neighborhood a block over. The lunch time rush had slowed. They had the sidewalk and the roads to themselves apart from the occasional car.

No one else saw the two armed men in dark sunglasses turn the corner and approach the trio. The men raised their guns. Edwin had no time to react. The sound of gunfire bounced off the concrete buildings around them. The copies dropped on either side of Edwin. Their blood spilled on the sidewalk.

Edwin froze. He stared at the bodies. The two assailants ran back the way they had came. Their heavy footsteps faded quickly, but the sour scent of gunpowder hung heavy in the air. A delivery van stopped in the middle of the road. The driver opened his door and stood beside his vehicle, his phone pressed against his ear.

Edwin’s mouth hung open. His knees weakened and crashed to the ground.

Sirens screamed somewhere behind him. The police would arrive soon. The same that investigated his Annie’s murder? What would they think? What would he say?

Copy Annie’s head lay facing the street. Her sightless eyes stared at the curb. A trickle of blood fell from her lips.

Edwin thought of the last time he’d heard his Annie’s voice.

“Hey, Sweets, just wanted to give you a call since I left before you woke up.” Real Annie’s voice chimed in Edwin’s bluetooth. He’d just climbed in his car to begin his drive home. Annie would beat him there by at least thirty minutes. “How was your day?”

He loved their evening phone calls. Instead of dreading commuter traffic, he looked forward to the time to talk to his wife. He still missed her after an eight hour work day.

“Can’t complain,” he answered. “How was yours?”

“The worst!”

Edwin grinned as he put the car in reverse and pulled out of his parking spot. It would be an eventful ride home.

On hands and knees, Edwin crawled to Copy Annie’s side. The sirens grew louder, a block or two away now. People had begun mulling around, witnesses, onlookers. Edwin took her hand. It was still warm. Her smooth palm slipped against his fingers, but if Edwin closed his eyes he could force his imagination to believe it was Annie’s hand. His Annie.

With a long inhale, Edwin readied himself. Let the police come. They may even lock him up. What did it matter?

What else did he have left to lose?

What did you think? Of this story? Of this first season of Marredbury? I’ve had so much fun with this project. Thank you for participating in this early read. Let me know what you think! I’d love to hear from my readers as I improve this draft and get it ready for publishing.

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