Three Wooden Crosses
Willow Rosenberg cast the spell on the slayer scythe, giving any woman who had the potential to be a slayer the power of the slayer. This story is about one of those women.
~*~
A farmer and a teacher
A hooker and a preacher
Riding on a midnight bus
Bound for Mexico
One was heading for vacation
One for higher education
And two of them were searching for lost souls
~*~
Ivy Norton shifted nervously. She had caught the bus back in Iowa. She was running, and running hard. There was no way she was going back, not after that man had attacked her. Three other passengers sat on the bus with her. One was from the council, but the other two were just regular people. She had felt something go through her earlier. Something that made her stronger somehow.
There was another woman on the bus. Her face was etched with past miseries, but a hopeful glow was in her eyes. One of the men's faces wore an excited look on his sun-baked face. The other man's face was a sharp countence, his eyes narrowed, his gaze focusing on the road before them.
Her watcher had told her that she would be met on the bus, but it could be any of them. The driver pulled out onto the highway. Ivy would just have to wait.
~*~
That driver never ever saw the stop sign
And 18 wheelers can't stop on a dime
She heard the screeching tires and the breaking of glass. Her body was hurled out the back window, and she rolled into the rough desert grass.
~*~
There are three wooden crosses on the right side of the highway
Why there's not four of them heaven only knows
I guess it's not what you take
When you leave this world behind you
It's what you leave behind you when you go
~*~
When she came to, Ivy pushed herself up from the grass, her eyes focusing on the wreckage before her. She ached. But then she saw the still forms of the three passengers. Fear kicked into overdrive.
The closest victim was the man who looked so excited. His eyes were open and were glazed over. Ivy held back the instinct to throw up. From the corner of her eye she the woman move. She raced to her side.
"Nix?" She yelled.
"I - wanted - a vacation." Her sad eyes glazed over as she went still. Ivy shook her. But she didn't feel a pulse. Ivy knew the woman was dead.
~*~
That farmer left a harvest
A home and 80 acres
The faith and love for growing things
In his young son's heart
And that teacher left her wisdom
In the minds of lots of children
Did her best to give 'em all
A better start
~*~
Ivy went to the last man. Tears burned her eyes. He began coughing. She knelt beside him.
"Nix?" She asked softly, as the man grasped her hand.
"Yes. I should have gone to you on the - bus. You must seek out -" another cough spread through his body. "Rupert Giles." His hands clutched tightly on the small book. "You must take - this. It - contains - everything you - need."
~*~
And that preacher whispered
"Can't you see the promised land?"
As he lay his blood stained Bible
In that hooker's hand
~*~
The Bible was in her hands. It contained everything in there, all of the slayer lore she would need.
~*~
There are three wooden crosses on the right side of the highway
Why there's not four of them heaven only knows
I guess it's not what you take
When you leave this world behind you
It's what you leave behind you when you go
~*~
She made her way of the bus. Ivy Norton walked up to the woman who waited for her. She shook her hand. The Bible was held under her arm. The petite blond woman led her to away. And on that highway, miles away in the distance, three wooden crosses stood in remembrance.
~*~
There are three wooden crosses on the right side of the highway
Why there's not four of them now I guess we know
It's not what you take
When you leave this world behind you
It's what you leave behind you when you go
A/N: Song is "Three Wooden Crosses" by Randy Travis.
