Dynamics of a Human Heart Ch. 09

"I have to go," Miranda whispered through numb lips. She took the book from Luke.

"Miranda is everything--?"

She looked at him then; her expression could only be described as 'shell-shocked'."

"Okay, you have to go," Luke conceded. Whatever was going on, it was urgent.

Miranda fled from the classroom out into the rain. She slipped twice on the wet cement, scraping her knee. She didn't care, she ran and stumbled and almost crawled to get to her destination.

The doors to the mathematics classroom banged open with the force of a shotgun blast, everyone jumped in their seats.

Miranda stood there, drenched to the bone and panting, her hair a wild and matted mess and her expression wild and fearful.

"Miri?" Sam wheeled away from the board she'd be working on and approached her, "What's wrong? What's happened?"

Miranda opened her mouth and tried to speak, several aborted attempts at words until she finally just handed the book over to Sam. The blonde girl turned the book over frowning, and then her eyes went wide.

"Motherfucking fuck!" she hissed, "It can't be!" She looked up at Miri, stunned, "Can it?"

"Library," was all Miranda said.

"Library," Sam confirmed before turning to address Isabel, "Um, I need to go. Like, now."

Isabel simply nodded; she wasn't going to argue with anyone who looked as badly shaken as the girls did, "Okay, we'll talk later."

With that, the girls bolted out the door and made it to the library in record time.

It took seven pots of coffee, 3 separate librarian shifts, and almost 15 hours, but in the end, they found what they needed.

Miranda nearly tore the door off its hinges, entering Grey's apartment building. She strode with a purpose that spoke of righteous fury and vindication. Sam was right there beside her as they made it to the end of the hall. This time, they had the advantage. There would be no evasions or lies; at last, they would have the truth.

They reached his door and Miranda briefly considered knocking.

Fuck it. She brought her foot up and kicked the door with all her strength.

The door swung open without any resistance and, propelled out of control by her forward momentum, she fell flat on her face.

"It's open," Grey said quietly, not looking up from his book. He was sitting on his cot, his back braced against the wall. One hand held a paperback book; the other clutched a cigarette between his fingers.

Miranda attempted to salvage as much of her dignity as she could and got to her feet.

"We need to talk," she stated.

"Do we?" Grey responded, licking his finger to turn a page, "I thought I may myself clear before."

"Things have changed."

"Evidently."

Sam wheeled into the room behind Miranda, cautiously, "What are you reading?" she asked.

Grey held up the book for viewing, "'Flickan som lekte med elden'," Sam sounded out, "What is that, Swedish?"

"Yes, it's 'The Girl Who Played with Fire'."

"Oh yeah, that's the sequel to 'Dragon Tattoo', I've read it."

"I know, babes, I read it at your place that night at your flat."

"You can't have read it overnight," Miranda blurted out, "It's over six hundred pages long!"

"Six hundred and seventy-two. It weighed just over thirteen ounces and was published in 2011. Are we done regurgitating the obvious now?"

"Ouch, burn," Sam muttered. Miranda shot her an admonishing look, the other girl just shrugged.

"Did you like it?" Miranda soldiered on.

"First book was bloody weak, predictable. I'm hoping something got lost in translation, hence," he gestured to at the book, "Hence the original Swedish for the sequel."

"And?"

"So far, it's bloody daft."

Sam frowned then, the scent of something burning was filling the air. She looked at Grey,

"Um, Grey? You're on fire."

He looked at his hand; the cigarette had burned down to the filter and was slowly scorching the skin between his fingers. "Oh," he shifted slightly, took the still-burning cigarette into the palm of his hand and crushed it with his fist. The scent of burning flesh intensified.

"Doesn't that hurt?" Sam asked agog at the display of masochism.

"You say that as if it should matter," was Grey's response. Sam couldn't repress a shiver.

Miranda cleared her throat, "We know the truth, Grey."

"How sodding enlightened of you."

"I'm serious."

"When, pray tell, are you not, poppet?"

"You were so careful."

Grey sighed and closed his book, folding his hands before his mouth.

"What do you want?" Grey asked accentuating each word.

A beat and Miranda crossed the distance from the threshold of the room to his bunk. In a single movement, she threw down the gauntlet, in her case, the book that had not left her side during the long hours of research and investigation: 'A Treatise on the Binomial Theorem'.

Looking up from the back of the book was Grey's face.

"Doctor Royce Greyson, I presume?" Miranda said softly.

The visage was younger, almost twenty years or so. The expression was less severe, his face rounder, softer. The scar at his eye was covered by a pair of wired spectacles and his lips, unmarred by scar tissue, was curved in a small, thoroughly self-satisfied, smile.

"Welcome back to the land of the living, Doctor Greyson. You're a hard man to find. Sam and I spent hours working the microfiche and making phone calls from the UK to Germany to Florence. All those places you neglected to list in your briefing regarding the best hospitals around the world to treat Sam. I was wondering why you'd omitted those countries, now I know: you were worried about us getting too close to the truth, even if it meant omitting an entire country." Miranda leaned in closer, "It would appear you have failed to keep your lies intact." Miranda's lips upturned in a smile that spoke of endless satisfaction, victory after a long and bloody conflict.

She turned to face Sam, "Sam?"

Sam cleared her throat and began to recite from memory, "Doctor Royce Greyson: Born in Liverpool, 1964. No record available regarding parentage. Enlisted in British Army 1979," Sam smirked, "Fifteen, huh? Lied about your age I take it?"

Grey's seething demeanor revealed nothing.

Sam continued, "Saw action during the Falkland wars where you served as a field medic." Sam stopped, "Which is weird because I thought you served in Bosnia. Care to elaborate?"

Grey's green eyes remained staring straight ahead, blank and hateful.

"Right then," Sam continued, "Commendations for valor before an honorable discharge in 1986."

"Seven years, Royce," Miranda commented, "Must have almost been like a home to you. I wonder what convinced you to leave it."

Grey said nothing.

"Continue, Sam," Miranda instructed.

Sam swallowed, she was starting to get a very bad feeling creeping up the base of her spine, "Or we could take five and give everyone some time to digest?"

"He's had all the time in the world," Miranda's smile became a sneer; "The truth will be heard."

A beat, "Oh-kay, moving right along," Sam cleared her throat. "Attended Oxford on the GI bill and a boxing scholarship," Sam gave a little laugh, "So that's how you became such an accomplished ass-kicker."

"Sam? Don't get distracted," Miranda directed, "Continue, please."

The bad feeling was starting to make its way slowly up the blonde girl's spine, but she persevered.

"You received two doctorates: Theoretical Physics and Theology, of all things," Sam cleared her throat, "After graduating in the top of your class, you turned right around and started teaching there. You wrote the book 'Dealing with the Devil: A Study of the Faustian Concept in the 10^th Century'. It received rave reviews, won the Goethe medal, and is now pre-curriculum reading for entry to the Goethe Institute of German Culture," Sam brought her attention back to the present, "Interesting side note: You were a guest lecturer at the institute on 18th Century German literature and it's connection to the Protestant Reformation."

"My, but you get around, Herr Greyson," Miranda commented, "Continue please, Sam, it only gets better from here."

"Miri, I really think we should ease off," Sam warned.

"Not interested, continue."

Grey's eyes flickered to meet Sam's and she saw something in them that made the dread feeling in her body bloom. She licked dry lips before continuing.

"You travelled to Italy and during your time there wrote a second book: 'Sojourn: From Alighieri to Milton: 300 Years Navigating the Labyrinth of Human Mortality'."

"And surprise, it was a runaway literary success," Miranda concluded.

Sam nodded, "It was the winner of the Prince of Asturias award and The Istituto Italiano di Cultura called it 'a definitive masterpiece. Anyone who loves the work of Dante Alighieri, or Classical Italian literature must read this book'."

"I had to wade through a great many scholastic newsletters before I came across that bit of information," Miranda informed Grey, "But some patience, and extensive use of an Italian-to-English dictionary made all the difference, although we couldn't actually get a copy of the book, apparently, it's hard to come by nowadays," Miranda's triumphant tone increased in fervor, "But that's okay. Sam, tell us what he did next.

Sam cleared her throat; she was sweating in the normally, oppressively cold room. Watching Miranda and Grey was like watching two raging storms colliding into each other and she felt like she was caught in the middle.

"You served as a substitute curator for the Capponi library for six months and received a letter of commendation from Count Nicollo Capponi before co-writing a book on the history of the Medici family."

"A third book, and with a member of Italian aristocracy, no less," Miranda mocked, "How very special you must have felt. Tell me, did you promote your own genius or let others do it for you?"

"Miri!" Sam exclaimed, shocked at her taunting tone, "Ease up, huh?"

"Finish it, Sam," Miranda stated.

Sam sighed; she knew what was coming and did her best to brace for the inevitable.

"You left Italy for Austria and studied Physiopathology and Investigative medicine in Austria, minoring in Psychology. You proceeded to write a fourth book 'The Tie That Blinds: A Study of Fear and the Human Condition', it was considered one of the definitive works on the subject of fear and phobias."

"And then, Sam?"

"And then, you returned to your home in Dartmoor, England," Sam sighed, "And you died, in a house fire on February 14^th, 1998. You and your wife."

"Left to burn alive in your own home," Miranda's tone softened, "I can't even imagine—"

And Grey went berserk.

He screamed a horrific shriek of rage and betrayal that seemed to scorch the air. The girls jerked away as if bitten. Nothing they had ever experienced, not the bus, nor the meeting with Edward, was like this. The utter, bestial ferocity—the total annihilation of every last shred of self-control—the hurt and hate tore its way through them, body and soul.

He was on his feet before the girls registered the movement. He exploded forth and sent Samantha tumbling backwards onto the floor, she cried out as her back collided with the floor. Miranda leapt out and grabbed the crazed man by the arm in a desperate attempt to protect her lover. She was batted away like an insect as Grey advanced on Sam.

Sam was hurriedly trying to crabwalk backwards to get away from him. He lashed out and sent her wheelchair flying across the room.

"No, Grey don--!" Sam's voice was choked out of her as Grey snatched her from the floor by her throat and held her aloft with a single, vice-like hand around her throat. She began to cough and sputter as she batted at his arm. She could feel the life being crushed out of her by his rage and her vision began to dim.

Click.

"Get your hands off her."

Grey's grip slackened as he turned to face Miranda. The woman held his pistol aimed right at his head.

"Miri, don't you do it," Sam gasped out.

Grey tightened his grip, cutting off the rest of Sam's words. He turned back to face the wall, as if considering.

Suddenly, Sam felt his grip slacken, just a little. Then he turned his head, and placed a kiss on her cheek that felt like searing iron.

"Goodbye, Doctor Adler. Do good things."

"Grey, please..." she whispered.

Slowly, Grey turned to face Miranda, his hand still on Sam's throat, holding her up like a broken doll, her legs dangling useless underneath her.

"You know what will happen if I drop her?" Grey said quietly.

"Her legs will break."

"Technically, gravity will take care of that. But if you shoot me, she may simply slip from my grasp to safety."

Miranda didn't say anything; she just licked her lips and squeezed the grip of the gun tighter.

"Miranda, listen to me," Sam rasped, "Don't you dare do it."

Grey gave Sam's throat another squeeze that sent her into a coughing fit.

"Your bird doesn't know what she's saying," Grey replied, "Now is the time to choose, Miranda, what do you choose to believe in: One who loves you," she gestured to Sam, "Or one you could have come to love?" He shifted Sam over to his side, giving Miranda a clear shot to his chest.

Miranda lowered the gun and hung her head, her eyes closed. She could see the great abyss before her, the time to decide and, how there could be no going back. She felt tears leak from her eyes.

Goodbye.

She raised her head and opened her eyes. They shimmered and burned violet.

"I believe in Samantha Adler."

She raised the gun and fired.

The wall behind Grey and Samantha exploded into shards of black glass. Sunlight poured into the room. Sam cried out as she was flung from Grey, landing heavily on her side.

Then, there was stillness, smoke from the gun barrel glowed iridescently in the sunlight, the scent of gunpowder and flowers from outside filled the room.

Grey reached and tentatively examined himself, his fingers coming back wet and red. He gave a small laugh, he looked so...surprised.

"We've all become God's madmen," he whispered, "All of us."

And then, he fell to his knees, toppled over and lay still.

"Grey!"

To Be Continued

*

And so ends "The Inferno Theorem" Book one in the Dynamics of a Human Heart series. A big thank you to my editors, Julia and Linda and thanks to the fans for reading and commenting.

It's been a wild year, going on this journey with these characters. I think we've earned a break from each other.

If there is an audience for it, expect a sequel.

Thank you all again.

Tyler