FWR present a rather intriguing story in celebration of this month's Create challenge

Blackness gave way to grey, grey to dim orange. Red veined yellow with the occasional bright spark and Caleb knew the day had dawned on the world outside his crusty eyelids but had no inclination to greet it.

He lay still as death, appreciating the irony, comforted by the ever present hiss and pump of his oxygen, the faint buzzing of the machines monitoring his heart rate, blood pressure, liver and kidney functions, toxicity levels; the list went on and on.

So unlike reality, these sentinels knew no end, didn't fear the nothingness of a final breath, content to serve until the plugs were pulled and the next Ticker was hooked up to witness the final countdown.

Caleb slowly turned in the hospital bed, well practiced in remaining relatively untangled amidst the birds nest of wires and tubing, gently reaching for the betaxolol. Although still fairly relaxed given the day ahead, he grunted and swallowed, appreciating the extra few beats the drugs would surely allow.

Although he, along with the other 97% of the centres residents, was physically fit, he had readily signed the papers some half a million ticks ago and settled in to a routine designed to keep him comfortable in his last days, provide advice on settling his affairs, medication to gain those vital extra few beats and, more importantly, remove any stress caused by his imminent passing from family, friends and colleagues. Terminal Countdown Centres were the one true boom industry of the previous century.

Why put loved ones through unnecessary adrenalin surges when a glance at your implant would signal your expected terminal date. A brief goodbye and then spend your last beats as one of the hundreds of thousands of Tickers at the centres?

How quickly would those final beats tick away? He idly wondered just how many extra ticks his adrenalin free lifetime had added. How much sooner would this day have come if he'd rebelled against common sense and allowed himself to enjoy his life?

Certainly there were those who refused to be regulated, preferring to tape over their counters, blissfully unaware of the lessening numbers, flouting the Law and choosing passion and excitement, accepting the damage and welcoming a short but bright existence.

“And look where it's got you my Burner friends!" Caleb spat towards the three other occupants of the room. “Tickers, just like me: what a waste!"

He spat again, ignoring the red flecks. They must have been bright burners indeed; a man in his forties, another no more than mid-fifties and a woman, such a beauty, still in the first third of what should have been a long life.

All now shared the same room, Tickers all, each connected and plugged in, each now limited by the red numbers counting down their final hours.

Caleb held up his thin fingers, marvelling at the handiwork that time had slowly worked upon his flesh.

Fifty, sixty, ( even seventy maybe?) years extra time than these fools.

" What a bloody waste!"

He glanced up at the counter: less than 98 thousand now.

" Yup, such a waste my friends". He almost felt sad for the Burners, almost.

He took another pill, popped a Valium too for good measure and drifted off, watching idly as the numbers slowly decreased in perfect time with his heartbeat.

"Burner. Burner. Never. Learner!"

The childhood taunt rattled around his head as he tested the rope. Satisfied the branch would hold, he gripped the knot and backed away from the riverbank.

As his arms raised, the counter implanted in his forearm glared redly, numbers flashing by at an alarming rate.

Every citizen lived with the constant reminder of the counter. Implants had been given to every man , woman and child , barring those at or over the age of eighty and those sadly with an expectancy of five million or less. Free choice of how to use your limited number of heartbeats, but heavy sanctions on activities and devices that caused rapid adrenalin surges.

Science had not given everyone an exact date of death but merely the method of counting down, however quickly or slowly , to that unavoidable day.

He gulped, momentarily doubting his resolve. Government Health Warnings drilled in at school dominating his thoughts, survival instincts forcing up his ABCDs.

Adrenalin Burning Causes Death!

Heart threatening to beat its way out of his ribs, Caleb took a deep breath.

"Burner, burner" hands gripping tighter.

" Never", he stood on the tree stump.

Breath held, leaning back, "Learner!"

Feet left the earth, accelerating out and up, out over the sparkling water.

Caleb screeched as he released the rope. Briefly weightless, flying free before gravity reclaimed his ten year old mass and threw him downwards. The cold water hitting him like a truck, wind forced from his lungs. Caleb was smiling as the day was swallowed by icy greyness.

He kicked upwards, breaking the surface and gasping for breath. Treading water he waited for the counter to slow to green.

He was still grinning to himself as he climbed the bank, untied the rope and carefully hid it away, just in case he ever dared to do such a stupid thing ever again.

He chewed beta blockers as he walked slowly through the woods, relieved when he stepped onto the pavement and allowed the moving blocks to take over from his muscles, further slowing his counter.

By the time he arrived home, he was already regretting his childishness and fretting over just how many beats he'd just wasted.

The glowing counter showed just over two billion. That evening Caleb vowed that he would cherish every single tick from now on.

By the age of fifteen Caleb had become transfixed with his own mortality, each and every tick of his counter recorded and cross referenced to ensure maximum efficiency.

He'd already exhausted the scientific data bases concerning longevity and heart beats the previous year, works by Kleiber and Pearl became bedtime reading, exercise and healthy eating his new religion, supplements and medication his ritual.

By high school he had a resting heart rate of 38, calculations showed he was banking over ten million ticks each and every year.

Caleb knew he couldn't cheat Death, but was determined he would make Him wait til the very very last tick.

Fifty thousand. A glance at the machines, dismay at the 80 bpm registering.

What to occupy the last ten hours?

Caleb had prepared himself too well to succumb to panic. He mourned his youthful heart-rate, knew his earlier self would have made this final day t

Indeed, looking back , his whole life now seemed such a futile fight, sacrifice and self-discipline, denial in pleasure. He had lived for so very long now.

A shout disturbed his reflections.

The Burners, lunchtime over, were now huddled around a screen, laughing together over the fast- paced game they were enjoying, wasting valuable ticks as electronic competition stimulated adrenalin. Their animated faces, joyful despite the ticking down, caused Caleb to frown and rethink.

Maybe he had 'existed ' for so very long, but 'lived' ?

Had he truly lived his life for more than a few hundred beats?

He carefully adjusted the hydraulics, sitting upright for the first time in weeks, teary eyes now mesmerised by the smiles burning into him from across the room.

He'd avoided girls like the plague. Love, romance, sex - all bad for his counter. The stress of children, making a home, providing for dependants equally shunned.

Caleb had chosen an academic life, dull books and duller study, no pressure to perform, no need to participate in the dangerous game of courtship had suited him well. Unhurried days spent translating ancient text books from several languages into several more had helped to keep his numbers high.

Invitations to staff events, parties and dinners politely declined. Excuses made to consistently avoid after hours drinks eventually meant that Caleb became invisible to his colleagues. Invitations dwindled then ceased.

Even the stress of thinking up new excuses had been removed from Caleb's perfect life, his count remained wonderfully high - until he'd met Jennifer.

Alarm bells rang as soon as the post graduate had arrived that first morning. Caleb had quite simply never seen anything as beautiful as the young woman standing before his desk. Alarm turned to panic as their eyes locked and that dreaded invisible spark between then prompted a chemical reaction that had his counter plummeting.

Each shared smile, every hurried glance at her perfection had Caleb guzzling handfuls of tranqs. Despite all his self-control, all his sacrifice and denial, Caleb was hopelessly and completely in love.

The second week of Jennifer' internship had seen him, to the shock of the faculty, accepting her invitation to the local bar.

He'd taken the walkway home with her hours later, rapturous as her hand sought his. They'd kissed, a deep yearning kiss and as his hand caressed her cheek he'd glimpsed the red numbers, hurtling downward as quickly as his passion had climbed.

Mumbling apologies, Caleb had broken away and hurried home, gasping at the wasted ticks.

The following morning he'd resigned with immediate effect. He'd accepted a job as proof reader, allowing him to work almost entirely from home, heavily sedated for the following month, Caleb had battled with his feelings - choosing numbers over love.

Careful not to damage his count any further, Caleb became almost a recluse. His one constant companion, the now safe and reassuring green numbers of his implant.

The Burners had finished the game, good natured insults thrown at the winner, banter easily swapped between the three without a thought for any stress that may have been caused.

As they stood and stretched prior to hooking themselves back to the centres computers, Caleb noticed the seemingly accidental brush of a hand between the older man and the young woman. They turned to each other, the smile signalling something deeper than friendship. As the girl leant in to whisper something, her eyes locked with Caleb's.

The hazel eyes, that smouldering glance had Caleb transported back millions of ticks. A night on a walkway, love's first kiss, a girl, her name surfacing after so many years.

He turned away, the window masking his tears , focussing on the distant river.

" Oh Jennifer, what a fool I was! " Caleb sighed as he carefully began disconnecting his wires, looking at his counter and praying he hadn't left things too late.

Memory hadn't failed him as he stumbled through the woods, going almost directly to the overgrown spot.

His ancient body protested as he bent to dig out his prize, protested more as he stretched above him, satisfied ,he sat and waited, numbers steadily decreasing.

Heart threatening to beat its way out of his ribs, Caleb took a deep breath.

"Burner, burner" hands gripping tighter.

" Never", he stood on the tree stump.

Breath held, leaning back, "Learner!"

Feet left the earth, accelerating out and up, out over the sparkling water.

Caleb screeched as he released the rope. Briefly weightless, flying free before gravity reclaimed his century old mass and threw him downwards. The cold water hitting him like a truck, wind forced from his lungs.

Caleb was smiling as the counter hit zero and the final day was swallowed by icy greyness.

FWR

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