There was little more than barren earth on either side of the road. Somewhat to my relief, though I could see in the dark perfectly fine, Xandra and I didn't have to walk in darkness thanks to the bright streetlights which lit the huge main road for miles ahead and behind.

Xandra had stopped trying to stay a step ahead of me because we both knew the direction we were going. Instead we walked side by side keeping a brisk pace.

An incredible sadness had taken hold of me soon after we had left the scene of the three MICE that were attacked and at least two of them murdered at the hands of the Pied Piper Task Force.

It wasn't the deaths which played on my mind the most, though they did occupy a decent amount. What really played on my mind was the stark reality that I would likely never be able to go home again, at least not for several years, and even then to know that I couldn't simply return home and be with my family, with Mum in particular, was almost too much to bear.

Would my siblings move on with their lives? Get great jobs, find partners, get married, have children; would they remember me come Christmas time? Would they think of me on my birthday?

I knew without a shadow of a doubt my mother would grieve not having me around until she either died, or we saw each other again. The rest of my family, I wasn't so sure. It wasn't that they didn't love me; they certainly did; but did they have the kind of love that would persist over the years with me not around to foster it without a bare minimum of phone calls and occasional get-togethers?

And what about me? With my family out of sight and mind would they become nothing but an afterthought? Would I one day no longer care to see any of them again because so much time between them and me had passed?

I let out a haggard sigh.

"What?" said Xandra.

She was bobbing along beside me, her large eyes sparkling from the streetlights. I had gotten into my own head again, and now Xandra had snapped me out of my reverie. I heard the sound of the night air loudly in my ears and all around. Though there wasn't much of anything to make a sound besides Xandra and myself, the night was loud regardless; the nothing-ness of the vapory open air swallowed up everything else.

"Just thinking about my family," I said.

Xandra rolled her eyes and picked up her pace, deciding she preferred walking ahead of me again. I felt my own sense of annoyance. She had already made up her mind to ditch her family. I hadn't. And hopefully I never would.

The main road finally started to curve to the left, but Xandra and I continued forwards, stepping over the curb onto the expanse of damp, gray soil.

Soon our way forward became uneven, with lots of dips and passages with increasing amounts of flytipped hills of rubbish.

The smell stung my nose.

"Think we'll need some air freshener," I said, jokingly,

Xandra ignored me and continued walking ahead.

It's fine, I told myself, just give her space. She's obviously upset about what we saw, on top of everything else.

The rubbish heaps obscured a good deal of the way ahead, becoming a maze of stinking nappies, upturned supermarket trollies, and all manner of filth-coated things promising infectious disease should any of it be touched.

Xandra was getting quite far ahead of me, taking one quick turn after another.

"Slow up," I said.

Xandra dipped into a corridor of black bin bags which were ruptured and looking as if they were stuck in time, the spilling contents damp and weatherworn.

As soon as she was out of sight I felt a genuine panic that she might decide to continue on without me. Perhaps it had been too good to be true for the pair of us to stick together longer than we already had?

I picked up my pace, hoisting my carry bags up higher and making an impromptu game of not touching all the gross things around me, with middling success.

I reached the point where Xandra had gone out of sight, turning the corner in the ceilingless corridor of bin bags to see Xandra, far ahead, dipping quickly to the left, going out of sight again.

"Hey!" I yelled out, "Xandra! Slow down!"

I knew she could hear me because she would have her hearing heightened should there be any trouble nearby.

I hurried after her, breaking into a sprint. When I reached the corner she had turned to I could see her much further ahead coming out the other side of the dump heap.

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"Xandra!" I called out, feeling like a child calling out to their parent.

She stopped walking, dropping her carry bags, giving me time to catch up.

"Xandra," I said, "Didn't you hear me–"

But when I saw her face I understood why she had walked on ahead. She was sobbing as quietly as she could muster, tears streaking down her face.

I dropped my carry bags.

She buried her face in her hands and crouched low, her pained sobs worsening as she lost what little control of her tears she had.

It was the kind of sobbing where, if I could, I would have done whatever it took to make it all better.

I felt at a loss for what to do. Put a hand on her shoulder? Tell her everything was going to be okay?

Telling someone to look on the bright side didn't sound so good outside of a literal dump heap.

She tensed her shoulder in response to my hand gently placed on it, then relaxed. After a minute she stopped sobbing enough to be able to speak.

I wanted to ask her what was wrong, but then again, what wasn't wrong?

Xandra picked herself up and wiped away her tears.

"Okay," she said, "We're almost there."

And then she picked up her carry bags and started walking again. She didn't apologise for crying. She didn't ask for a hug. And she didn't seem like she wanted my sympathy.

I clenched my fists and forced myself to keep quiet, respecting her silence. It wasn't easy, because every fiber of my being wanted to ask her what was wrong and to try and fix the problem somehow.

The barren ground came to a hard stop before another motorway, this time we were high above, looking down at the gold-bathed road below and the few cars trailing by.

Without hesitating Xandra dropped her carry bags and for a horrible moment I thought she was going to jump off.

Instead she sat on the verge.

She turned back to face me, smiling despite her sadness.

"Come on," she said, patting an empty spot beside her.

I shook my head, signalling there was no way I was going to sit on the precipice of a place so high.

Xandra shrugged and turned back to face the vehicles below, dangling her legs like she didn't have a care in the world.

I neared the edge as much as I dared. Seeing the white road markings below made my stomach lurch, vertigo threatening to take hold of me.

"Do you think we could survive this fall?" said Xandra.

"I don't want to find out," I said.

"I bet we could," said Xandra.

"Why don't you just come away from the edge?" I said.

"Why don't you stop being a scared-y fox and come sit?" said Xandra.

The sound of a car wooshing by below filled the silence which followed. Then another.

"What are you afraid of, Burgess?" said Xandra, smiling.

"Dying, mostly," I said.

She dangled her legs some more and then eased herself even further off the edge, so that her arms were doing most of the work stopping her from slipping off the edge.

"Hey, cut it out!" I said, taking a step closer.

Xandra laid down on her side, resting her head against her hand, which was enough of a redistribution of her weight to keep her from sliding off any further.

"Come on," I said, "Just come back, this is ridiculous."

She spun herself over, rolling over the ground, her legs twirling over the edge.

"Xandra!" I shouted.

I hurried forwards and grabbed her by the cuff of her fleece. I yanked her back to safety, away from the edge.

She laughed a little, staying on the ground.

"What the heck are you thinking?!" I yelled.

She just giggled more.

Frustrated and feeling sick from the dread I just felt that she might have fallen, I angrily kicked the ground.

"I'm just," said Xandra, "Having fun, Burgess. You should try it."

Her words stung.

"I can be fun," I said, "I'm just not interested in taking stupid risks."

Xandra picked herself up, patting the dirt from her jeans. She then looked at me and offered her hand.

"Come on," she said, wiggling her fingers and gesturing back to the verge behind her.

I knew going so close to the edge was stupid. And I didn't need heightened senses to see that she was dealing with some inner pain she didn't know how to express. I was frozen, a wild, reckless, adventurous part of me wanting to be as devil-may-care as her.

Like a broken animatronic slowly coming to life, I lifted my hand and held hers. Right away she walked me to the edge.

The shift in air coming from below warned of how much open air there would be were we to fall.

A fresh drizzle of rain began to shower the night air, making the glow of the motorway lights that much more blown out.

My heart thumped in my chest, the worry of the fall and the feeling of my hand touching Xandra's bringing about a maelstrom of mixed feelings.

For a while we sat in silence, basking in the loud but calming sound of trailing cars, drizzling rain, and the open air.

We sat like we had no place in the world we needed to be. This was our spot. And for a long time it would be a place burned into my memory.

"Red car," I said.

The next car which came out of the motorway tunnel was white.

"Nope," said Xandra.

"Red, again," I said.

It took a few seconds for the next car to come out. It was blue.

"Black," said Xandra, smiling, her large eyes darting excitedly from me to the tunnel entrance.

The next car was…

"Red," I said, rolling my eyes, "Knew I should've called it."

We played for a while longer, getting our answers wrong more than they were right, but each right answer got us excited and eager to see if we could get two or three in a row.

When we grew bored I looked to Xandra, and she looked at me; our eyes locked; unblinking.

She leaned closer. I did too.