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“So ah… You still want that cigarette?”
Adam looked like he really, really wanted that cigarette. Lawrence found it funny that even though he was surely anxious to feign death, he was still fiending for a cigarette.
“Sure.” Lawrence reached down into the velvet box. His hand hovered over the cigarette that was just slightly bloodied. He didn’t think Adam had seen him dip it in the blood. He could do it right now, and be over with this game. Allison and Diana would be safe, and he might leave this alive.
But Adam looked so small from across the room, gesturing with barely restrained desperation for Lawrence to toss over a cigarette. Lawrence sighed and picked up the clean cigarette and tossed it over. The lighter followed and Adam went scouring around for where it had tumbled out of sight. He found them both, clutched him in one hand.
“Well?”
“Well,” Adam said as if to a child, “Toss the other one.”
Lawrence faltered and looked down at the box, whose red velvet lining matched the ruby red of the cigarette's tip. Had Adam not understood the instructions that he’d whispered across the room? Had he not heard him correctly?
“No?” Lawrence was unsure of what to do.
“So what, are you going to smoke the other one?”
“No!”
“Give it to me, then.”
Lawrence threw his hands up in frustration and spun around to flip off the lights again.
The dark fell on them again, so complete that Lawrence kept his hand on the switch for fear of losing it.
“Adam. There is poison on the second cigarette. The one you have is safe.”
“I know. Just trust me, Larry.”
Lawrence was high-strung as ever and felt the eyes of the camera on him. This plan was already fucked. If Adam had something in mind, why not?
Lawrence flipped the light slowly on again and then crouched down to grab the second cigarette. He walked as far as the chain would let him and tossed it to Adam. Adam did not fumble, or even step out of place to catch it. It was just in his hands. He fumbled for the lighter and lit up the first cigarette. Lawrence could see that it was the clean one, tip white as snow before it was caught in the orange ember of the flame and then faded to a charcoal grey. Lawrence stood, watching Adam smoke the cigarette with wide eyes. Each inhale was met with a smile, and he watched the smoke spiral away from him, clearly savoring it. The slowness, the silence of the moment felt suspended in time. Lawrence watched, waiting for the moment that Adam would pick to choke, or scream, or cough, or whatever he thought would be a convincing charade of death. But Lawrence watched Adam smoke the whole cigarette, right down to the filter, and then drop it to the floor. Despairing, Lawrence watched on as Adam took a deep breath.
Then, he pulled out the second cigarette, tip crimson under the hard fluorescent light. The realization came crashing down on Lawrence, high-strung stress erupting into hysteria immediately.
“No!” He practically screamed, taking a frantic step forward with his chained foot that sent him stumbling, catching the floor with his palm.
“No, Adam! Don’t! Please don’t!”
Adam stood, unphased. He seemed completely resolute. He stood, lighter in one hand, poisoned cigarette in the other. The flame burned from the lighter, and Adam watched him with a stony and vacant expression.
“Don’t, don’t, Adam-”
“Lawrence.”
“Please don’t, we can find a way-”
“There is no other way.”
“We can try, please-”
“Lawrence.” His voice was more stern now, like he was impatient. The flame burned on, sputtering once in Adam’s hand.
“Listen to me. Don’t waste it. Do not waste this. When you go home, tell your wife you love her, and tell your daughter too. Don’t work yourself to death. Find something to do. Not your job, find something real to do, that does real good.”
Lawrence stumbled to his feet again, hands reaching out imploringly. He didn’t want Adam to do this, he was innocent. He was more innocent than Lawrence, and he was so young. Veterinarian school, he’d said hours ago.
“Adam,” Lawrence forced his voice to be calm, low, as if beckoning to a wild animal, “Don’t do this. Please. You don’t have to do this. We will find a way.”
Adam moved the lighter closer.
“Don’t waste it, Larry.”
“No!”
All faster than he could realize, the flame sputtered out, Adam looked up to meet his eyes one last time.
“Promise me you won’t waste it.”
He didn’t wait for a response, struck the lighter again, and lit the cigarette.