Death is Only a Theoretical Concept by S. K. Een Page B

nearly died last
night...!”
    Steve shrugs.
“Okay, so tomorrow you come around and we play Trivial Pursuit.
What about next Saturday?”
    He doesn’t have
anything planned for Saturday. Abe seldom does, besides sitting at
the bar at Feeders and striking out with the tourists. There’s no
reason in the world not to go, when viewed rationally. It’s not as
though there is any risk of fatal injury to Abe; hell, he’d
probably hurt himself worse in the run down the street last night
than he would while carefully, secured with ropes and harnesses,
scaling a cliff-face. He’s not so photosensitive that he can’t go
out in daylight, as long as he brings enough blood to heal the
sunburn. The only thing holding him back is fear, of course: fear
of heights, fear of injury, fear of getting close to Steve, fear of
hurting Steve, fear of the monstrous, blood-lustful side Abe would
rather keep buried.
    How can he be
around Steve and not hurt him?
    He must have
paused for far too long, because Steve shakes his head and hits Abe
with his sharp, piercing, lively brown eyes. “You amaze me.” The
oddest thing about the statement is that his words are completely
devoid of sarcasm. “I’m gasping like a fish on the footpath—I don’t
know what the fuck is happening, seriously. But you know what to
do, you know what to tell the person that answers an emergency call
even though it’s fucking Aggie Skipton—and if I hadn’t been gasping
I’d have been laughing so fucking hard, man—you even know enough to
look at my symptoms and make a few accurate guesses on what’s going
on. You and Johanna helped me, and that’s huge, and you didn’t bat
an eyelid throughout any of it—well, much. Something small like
backwards-walking down a cliff face? How can you not believe that
you can do anything?”
    Abe wonders if
he’s ever heard anyone say anything quite like those
words.
    He’s scared of
climbing cliffs, true, but he doesn’t want to see the
disappointment in Steve’s eyes when Abe confesses the real reason
for his hesitation.
    He just has to
not kiss Steve. He can do that, surely?
    “ I
... um.” He would have blushed, if he could. “How does she even
work there? Anyway, I just watch a lot of, well, real life medical
TV. Like What’s Good For You . RPA . I don’t know what
it is, that stuff just became interesting, after I
died.”
    Steve sits up,
and Abe gets to watch the transition from a bright, startled smirk
to shoulder-shaking laughter. He laughs, even his hair shaking with
the force of it, but Abe doesn’t feel like he’s being mocked, and
that too feels strange, so that even while it takes a long time for
Steve to stop laughing, he doesn’t mind: he just gives Steve a
tenuous grin.
    “ They sometimes show the ‘what you should do in said
emergency’ bits. Aren’t you glad I have this addiction to bad
TV?”
    Of course, if
Abe had warned him, none of this would even matter…
    “ Sorry.” Steve gasps and bites down on his lower lip as if he
can stop laughing through sheer force of will. “It’s just ... Mike
Johnson, my neighbour? He’s a zombie, and he and his missus are
fascinated by shows featuring children. Don’t get me wrong, not in
any sick way, but just in an ‘Oh, they’re so young and alive, isn’t
that beautiful?’ sort of way.” He smirks and slumps back against
his pillow. “They’re awesome babysitters, once the kids get used to
Mike doing weird-arse tricks with his dismembered arm. But now I’m
wondering if I’m going to be stuck watching ACA or something
after I’m dead ... oh, I fucking hope not. I’d rather
someone dismember and burn me.” He swallows and hits Abe with a
stare of his own. “But yes, mate, I’m grateful!”
    Just how is he
so cool with everything? He should have been scared, but every time
Abe turns around Steve seems to be reacting in ways that are
opposite to what any sane person should expect. He should have been
the vampire: Steve would have done