08-10-2019, 02:38 PM
Rifle spent, ringing pelted his head, but the clouds of smoke coiled fog across his eyes. The dead lined themselves into rows at his feet. There was no need to even try to step carefully. He just stared. Shockingly, no fists pounded dead flesh. No curses for their evil. No yells of defiance like he wanted to kill them all a second time. Cold crept despite the sweat at his brow. The muscles of his legs strong and sure, he felt fine as he hurried back. Reason clawed its way through the frozen mush of his mindscape. Amengual was still out there. Though if he was smart he was long gone. Police, likely paid hefty money to mind their own business under any circumstance, could probably stall investigating no longer. Jensen, Natalie, Lawrence and Axel probably waited. Cayli –
– his chest collapsed craters.
Cayli needed help. His help.
He found them at the shed, unmoved as if their own feet were stuck in the grave. His were lead, sinking toward the fires he deserved, but the bones held for now. His silhouette stretched across her body. Exit wounds made a mess of her clothes. Jay looked no better, but he endured every panged breath where a tortured angel took his punishment.
He sank at her side. Black lines forked bolts across his skin, darkest at their epicenters, fading as they spread. Jensen's healing sealed the blood and knitted flesh, but the echoes remained. Barely perceptible scars ridged the inside of his arm as if the tattoo of his service was completely erased. Never existing at all. He glanced at the preacher, but unable to find eyes filled with sorrow, he could bare to look upon the living no longer.
He scooped the girl into his arms, light as a feather. She’d lost so much weight this past year. Her head rolled limp toward the heavens. As did so many others.
They found Axel on the way to the car. Numb limbs witnessed Jensen’s attempt at restoration, but the soldier was beyond saving. If not, perhaps, beyond redemption. Jay stopped briefly at the body of a man who never feared dying but was terrified of living alone. He’d be discovered along with everyone else today. Probably marked as a criminal for his affiliations with the cartel despite the heroic history.
Well. Heroes fell; no amount of gilded history could catch them all. He knew more than anyone. Farewell, brother.
He laid Cayli into the back seat with instructions to take her to a hospital in the city as far away from here as possible. But he didn’t climb in alongside. She was Jensen’s charge, now. His parents would need the preacher now more than ever. They’d blame Jay for her death, undoubtedly. And with one casket would lose two children. It was probably for the best. They lost Jay the day he enlisted in Des Moines. They just never accepted it.
He turned toward the horizon. Amengual was out there, somewhere.
Finally, he made himself look into the only pair of living eyes he could. Hers pulled like a fraying rope, but their depths were clouded with as much fog and shadow as his own. He didn’t reach for her hand, fearing the slightest hesitation she might avoid clasping hands with someone with so much blood on theirs. But he couldn’t leave without levying the silent plea.
Please come.
– his chest collapsed craters.
Cayli needed help. His help.
He found them at the shed, unmoved as if their own feet were stuck in the grave. His were lead, sinking toward the fires he deserved, but the bones held for now. His silhouette stretched across her body. Exit wounds made a mess of her clothes. Jay looked no better, but he endured every panged breath where a tortured angel took his punishment.
He sank at her side. Black lines forked bolts across his skin, darkest at their epicenters, fading as they spread. Jensen's healing sealed the blood and knitted flesh, but the echoes remained. Barely perceptible scars ridged the inside of his arm as if the tattoo of his service was completely erased. Never existing at all. He glanced at the preacher, but unable to find eyes filled with sorrow, he could bare to look upon the living no longer.
He scooped the girl into his arms, light as a feather. She’d lost so much weight this past year. Her head rolled limp toward the heavens. As did so many others.
They found Axel on the way to the car. Numb limbs witnessed Jensen’s attempt at restoration, but the soldier was beyond saving. If not, perhaps, beyond redemption. Jay stopped briefly at the body of a man who never feared dying but was terrified of living alone. He’d be discovered along with everyone else today. Probably marked as a criminal for his affiliations with the cartel despite the heroic history.
Well. Heroes fell; no amount of gilded history could catch them all. He knew more than anyone. Farewell, brother.
He laid Cayli into the back seat with instructions to take her to a hospital in the city as far away from here as possible. But he didn’t climb in alongside. She was Jensen’s charge, now. His parents would need the preacher now more than ever. They’d blame Jay for her death, undoubtedly. And with one casket would lose two children. It was probably for the best. They lost Jay the day he enlisted in Des Moines. They just never accepted it.
He turned toward the horizon. Amengual was out there, somewhere.
Finally, he made himself look into the only pair of living eyes he could. Hers pulled like a fraying rope, but their depths were clouded with as much fog and shadow as his own. He didn’t reach for her hand, fearing the slightest hesitation she might avoid clasping hands with someone with so much blood on theirs. But he couldn’t leave without levying the silent plea.
Please come.
Only darkness shows you the light.