To think that all that kept the dust and debris inside the dome was a thick layer of glass. Solarta kept its own kind of dirt away from the rest of the dirt of the wastes. Because their dirt was superior, better, cleansed, and mulched, and fortified for Solartans. Whoever could survive in that radioactive much was obviously made of unnatural stuff and Hannibal had no pity for any of the raider rabble that called that place home.
Solarta was home. Solarta was the only place Hannibal Thayal would ever call home.
Which made it kind of a shame, really. For all the love he had for his city, his nation, his dirt, his mud, these echoing walls in his apartment didn’t feel much like one.
The empty bottles at his feet clanked when he moved them. Three beer cases, four empty whiskeys, five desolate bottles of rum. Not bad overall. It could have been much worse, he reasoned. At least the bottles were balanced into various pyramids when he was done with them and he could always bowl his whole face into them when he was too drunk to stand. That was always fun, so far no broken glass sticking out of his cheek bones too.
Bonus points.
The numbness that followed alleviated the hollowed out cavity in his chest. But it never lasted as long as he would have liked. Hannibal pushed himself off the ground and steadied himself along the wall that he’d been leaning against. It was cold in here, the draft coming from the open window made his skin clammy, and the sweat that rolled down his temples got stuck in the stubble growing along is face. A chill coursed down his spine, his muscles straining to keep him upright.
“That’ll cause you to catch the death of ya, y’know. Cold ain’t good when you’re all sweaty like that. Let me close it for you.”
“No, I can do-”
Addie stepped out from the hallway beside Hannibal, his heart leaping into his throat. Their tail swayed as they walked, and what would have otherwise been a mesmerizing gait, only made Hannah frown. The curtains stopped moving and the window slid down softly with a click.
“Why are you staring at me like that, big guy? Why don’t you come here and give me a kiss?”
Hannibal stared at them as they leaned against the window sill, hands bracing the ledge behind them. He blinked and swallowed hard, the ball becoming too unbearable at the center of his throat. “Addie, wh-whatcha doin’ home? You ain’t supposed t’be here. I-I thought you were -”
“I’ve been home all this time. You feeling ok, Hannah? Quit standing there and come here and gimme sugar.”
He teetered and when one foot came forward, his head spun, Addie doubled, whirring in and out of center. Their rat tail continued to sway, languid slow-like. Gods they were right there and he didn’t know why he couldn’t move forward. They were right, all along. Hannibal willed himself forward. He was too far away to kiss them. He wanted to fall into their arms more than anything. The noise that escaped him was an audible ache, a half desperate moan as he lurched forward as if he were going to fall.
His foot caught underneath him just in time, rushing toward Addie and his arms collapsed around softness. They were as warm as he remembered and his heart was racing as he tried to gasp for breath. He squeezed hard and let his legs fall forward, leaning forward until a revitalizing draft smacked him across the face, making his eyes shoot open. His whole body teetered against the window’s edge, the curtain in his grasp nearly tearing from the rack above.
Hannibal yelped and his arms released that curtain, flying out to catch himself on either side of that open window, the ground leering up at him. “ARRGH!” he cried out, vertigo rushing the blood to his head. He braced himself and used every muscle to pull himself back to reality, back into his living room.
Addie wasn’t there. They were gone just like he knew they were, and the gaping hollow in his chest ached all the more.
Hannibal flopped against the wall, gasping for breath and that ungodly sound erupted from him one more, every tendril of that aching hollow spreading to his limbs and weakening his legs. The entire length of his body collapsed to the floor as tears rolled down his cheeks, and he buried his face into the crook of his arms. He could still feel them, their warmth, their little squeaks when he squeezed them close.
“Addie,” he sobbed. “Stupid rat kid!”
They were gone. Dead, if their severed connection had anything to say for it. And all Hannah could cling to were his delusions. Yet even those were only present for as long as gust held. For the wind had no home.
