Warning for major character death :'(
I don't own them.
Bodie hasn't a second to spare, firing, ducking, weaving, reloading - until there is the crack of a gunshot that seems to be louder than the rest -
- and a sickening thump as the lean yet sturdy form of his partner crumples like a cut marionette.
Bodie sees the disturbing vision from the corner of his eye. His aim becomes sharp - deadly - as if invisible cross-hairs have suddenly appeared before his vision.
One by one, with cut-off screams and convulsions, the three gunmen fall.
The wisp of smoke from his gun dissipates - and then he is running, fumbling for the torch in his pocket, and hoping against hope he won't need it.
But there is no whisper of movement to greet him, no rustling of leaves, no wry comment tinged with relief - and the plastic handle of the torch gives a creak of protest at the vice-like grip that encircles it, a mimicry of the constriction that tightens Bodie's throat.
He falls to his knees, his thumb sliding, slick with sweat, over the switch of the torch without result, before he drags it back to drive the toggle upwards.
With a click, the yellow beam is directed towards his friend, finds his shoulder, and dances upwards -
Bodie's recoil is completely involuntary, and there is a harsh clatter as both gun and torch fall to the ground.
"Ray?" A bare whisper amongst the wind that ruffles the leaves of the surrounding trees.
"Ray?" Louder.
He reaches out suddenly, half-expecting Ray to bat him away with a shaky but audible "Get off, Bodie," yet when his hand touches the still shoulder, flits over to tap the cheek, there is nothing but the soft sound he creates through his gesture.
The discarded torch throws its light away from the frozen tableau, the reflected rays causing Bodie's shadow to lie, barely discernible, over the prone figure. The beam flickers, and for an inexplicable moment his heart jumps, for surely Ray's chest had risen slightly just then...?
He drops his head to press his ear against his friend's chest, but he has not time to listen, for something warm, wet, and sticky smothers his ear, and a strangled whimper of 'God...' escapes him as he pulls away with a sickening squelch.
Frenetically, he rubs at the side of his head, but that only smears it - ohGodit'sbloodRay'sblood - across his face, and into his hair, and he can taste its metallic tang in his mouth as he gags helplessly, breathing in the smell.
It is a somewhat distant yet desperate thought, to check for a pulse, but his hands have already accepted what his heart is cowering from, and they lift the warm body - somuchblood - from the cold, dead ground of their own accord, and clasp it close.
Clumsily pressing his cheek into the curls, he soaks up the receding warmth from his friend's body for he is chilled to the bone, and mutters, "Ray."
He doesn't know why the name slips from his lips, why he repeats it tremulously, over and over, until it sounds like something foreign and otherworldly.
All he can think is that whatever had escaped from Ray's eyes must've taken something of him with it, for surely nothing else can explain the iciness crystallising his insides as the body in his arms cools against him.
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~ Qalam