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Next August, Paulie. That's what I whispered.

And now? Now, what?

We're dead. Dead, Paulie! Do you hear me?

His face floated by, balloon-like, screaming. Turned suddenly and stopped, rotating towards me, balloon eyes staring. It's all your fault, he said.

God damn it ... Intensity of regret. Can you imagine it? The world gets destroyed, I get fucking killed, and here's fucking Paulie haunting my fucking ghost?

Maryanne?

Nothing.

What the hell did I expect? Maybe I'm waiting for the Maryanne balloon to come by. Maybe the Connie balloon. Lara? Who else?

Maddie, fucked at a party, on the floor, in front of laughing others, when we were both so drunk we almost puked? Katy? Katy-balloon?

Nothing. No one. Just Paulie the balloon-head, orbiting me like Dactyl round Ida. Slowly.

There was a prickle of apprehension on the back of my neck, like a cool, damp wind, breath of swampy corruption. Oh, yeah. This is bad news, ole buddy, ole pal.

The balloon head screamed, It's all yourfaultl You made me do it.

I think I smiled. Hard to tell. Am I a balloon head too?

Hey, Paulie. Maybe we'll be lucky. Maybe this is just my death-dream. There's a lot of blood and oxygen in a head, you know. Hey, great! That explains the balloon-head symbolism! See, we're dying now but our brains are still intact and functional, producing a dream that lets us imagine we'll somehow escape.

The balloon head's lips twisted angrily, empty eyes accusing. So you're going to tell me this is just another example of excuse-seeking behavior?

I think I laughed.

Balloon head whispered, It's all your fault.

Hey, come on. Play along, Paulie. This'll be fun. We'll see the light at the end of the long, dark tunnel, it'll get closer and closer, we'll fall into the light, then the doctor will lift us by the heels, slap our little asses, and we'll be reborn. Get it? Nudge-nudge, wink-wink.

Balloon: All I wanted to do was get along.

Something inside me went quiet with despair. I tried to make myself turn away. Turn my back on him. Come on balloon head. Get thee behind me. Paulie orbited away, mouth working angrily, eyes still accusing, and the emptiness around us flooded with fine white light after all.

Life goes on, whether you want it to or not. You can call it an adventure, if you want to, and we did, embezzling all that money from HDC, cheating on our taxes, building our shelter up in the mountains, the concrete redoubt in case the freezout was mild, the emergency capsule in case it wasn't, Paulie growing stranger and more secretive until that last day, when I fell asleep on the porch, waiting for the sun to come up black. A hand shook my shoulder and I awoke with a start. Paul was standing there, staring down at me, looking well rested, dressed better than usual, hair neatly brushed and tied back in a pony tail. Even his beard, grown back over the winter, had been combed. He said, "It's ten o'clock."

Ten a.m. Pale blue sky. Dark green woods. Birds chirping. Bees buzzing. The distant whir of cars on the road. Hot out, maybe eighty-five already. Christ. Look at the sunshine. I said, "So. What do we do now?"

He shrugged, not looking at me, looking sideways, out across the lawn toward where our cars were parked. I said, "What happened? Is the timing wrong or ... The government, Paul, they built all those shelters! What happened?"

He took a few steps, backing away from me, eyes shifty now, very nervous. And then he said, "You remember back at Christmastime?"

Christmas? All I remembered was Connie. "No. I, uh ... "

He said, "After what I found out, after what you said and did. The bit about the software..."

I whispered, "Paulie, you were taking risks ..."

"Asshole."

I sat fonvard in my chair, watching as he backed to the top of the stairs. "What did you do, Paulie? Tell me."

He said, "I bought a laptop computer and cellular modem. Kept it in my car. Only used it when you weren't around."

Some cold chill, like soft fingers down my back. "Paul..."