NOBODY KNOWS

What they are doing now? Are they frozen in place like marionettes? Do strings hold every muscle in check? Do their eyes flash, twin beacons of red light, waiting for the power to come back on?

Right now the stage is in shadow and the lights are all turned off.

But even I can’t see through the dark.

Maybe they have given up waiting for me, the only audience they have right now. Maybe they are all taking a break. Chaz has probably wandered to the edge of the set, smoking a cigarette between sips of coffee. All the dead children are probably eating peanut butter sandwiches and listening to an English tutor conjugate verbs. Maybe a make-up artist is touching up the ash on their faces before carefully arranging them on the floor again, a tangled puzzle of pre-pubescent bodies.

They’re all in position now. I can’t see it, but I can sense it, an edgy awareness, a sizzling knife blade of anticipation. Apparently they have all noticed that I am sitting here, poised before the keyboard.

I think I can hear Chaz, sliding a cell phone into his hip pocket, a half-smile on his face as he thinks about the date he has with Beth Morgenstein, his real life girlfriend. They’re probably planning to meet later for cocktails in that trendy new club down in Hollywood. I know he’s growing tired of playing the cynical bad boy with a heart of platinum, tired of never breaking the law unless it’s for a greater cause, tired of a world where real alcohol is only sold on the black market in shadow bars that move from one location to the next.

I can see him now as he closes his eyes, brushes blond bangs off his forehead. The make-up artist checks his face, brushes it with a gossamer layer of ash, then moves swiftly off camera. Chaz glances at me, gives an almost imperceptible nod.

Then he is completely in character again. I am invisible as the lights go up, smoke filters onto the set. Flames smolder around the edges of the doorframe.

He walks across the room, leans down beside Angelique, and he wonders if she is still alive.

But nobody knows.

Only me.