Page 50 of Tapeworld Induction

“What happened to him in the end?” Isaak asked, putting her out of her misery. “I guess your friend didn’t end up taking him home?”

“No… Half an hour later he was taken away by some night cops. Caught taking a wee around the corner.”

“That’s tough. All the man wanted was a smooch, a meal, and a piss. This country’s bollocks.” Isaak pretended to toss something in front of him, mocking a state of upset. “And he was really fit too!”

“Stop it.” She hit his arm playfully, letting out a laugh. “I’m sorry, did you want him to keeping standing on the corner with his dick out?”

“His dick was out, was it?”

She hit his arm again, harder this time. “No! Well, yes, logically! But I didn’t see it!”

“Right, right…”

Dylan looked down at her feet as they continued walking, manoeuvring through street debris and other people – and trash bins, which had made a return to the streets after the vegan laws were enacted. “You got any messy stories like that?” she asked him, still smiling. “I bet you and your mates went mad when you won the cup?”

The light smile faded from his face, and his walk slowed. “I do, but… it’s still painful to reminisce about those days.”

She was about to say something, apologise, to make him feel better. But he added, “No, it’s okay. I’m just apprehensive about this. Seeing Sacha.”

It dawned on her then that she didn’t know why Sacha had left the Lazarus at the same time as Isaak. He didn’t hurt himself in the game.

“Are you the reason he left?”

The conversation had turned serious. She wanted to give Isaak space, but to challenge him at the same time. It seemed like he didn’t have many people to talk to, and she wanted to give him a chance to talk and to really listen to him, not just chat superficially about drunken nights out.

The night-time neons lit him up, and she let herself revel in his natural good looks, while he paused to consider her question. The pinks and blues framed his long black hair, highlighting his chin, turning his skin into a feast for the eyes. Guilt bubbled inside her, looking at him like this, after asking him something so difficult.

She was having trouble controlling her feelings for him.

“Can we talk about it later?” he said eventually. His eyes couldn’t hide a genuine sorrow. Whatever had happened between them, it must have torn them apart. Isaak obviously didn’t feel a hundred percent comfortable going to Sacha now, but it seemed like he didn’t really have a choice.

They stopped in front of a residential building, the kind with miniscule balconies facing the busy street, dotted with the odd deckchair never used – presumably because of the mix of smoke and dust that had stained the railings, walls, and windows black, years in the making.

“This is the place.” He struggled to put a smile on his face.

“Okay. We can talk later.” She hoped she’d be able to piece together enough context clues from meeting Sacha to figure out more about what had happened anyway.

Isaak pressed the buzzer and glanced around as they waited for a response.

After a few seconds, a voice cracked through the ageing intercom. “Who is it?”

“It’s me, Isaak. Can you buzz us up?” He sounded unsure to Dylan’s ears.

“Who’s ‘us’?” Sacha asked.

“Me and a friend.”

The intercom went silent. Isaak and Dylan traded glances.

The metal door opened with a clang. Isaak started through it. “Follow me. Just a few floors up.”

As Dylan stepped through the door into the cramped corridor, she was forced to cover her nose and mouth with her sleeve. A mouldy odour lingered about, tinged with disinfectant, the nasty fighting off any attempts to be washed away. Isaak glanced back at her. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. It stinks, but I’m here, so let’s keep going.”

She felt suddenly completely outside her comfort zone. She knew who Sacha was, but she didn’t know him. And did she really know Isaak after just a few days? Was this a good idea? She searched her gut for guidance as they climbed the wooden stairs.

After a couple of floors, Isaak had to stop. His knee.