It was some time in late summer when the bright light fell from the sky. A single point of burning light, small and insignificant against the off-white backwash of the clouds. It dropped and burned until, with a large splash heard by no one, it landed in the Pacific Ocean just off the coast of Washington. They called it a meteor.
They were wrong.
oooo
A man lies unconscious in the sand. His clothes are worn and ragged and soggy. His skin is rough and dry and salty. He wears a trench coat, splayed open to reveal an old bloodstain on his white dress shirt. He fits in among the other debris washed up on the beach; just another drifting scrap pulled in from far, far away.
He's dying, of course. He wasn't supposed to, but…accidents happen. He has maybe a few hours of blissful unconsciousness, and then he'll move along. No heaven. No hell. No purgatory.
He'll move along to oblivion.
"Woah, man, you okay? Hello?"
He feels someone grab his wrist, pinching it lightly between their fingers. He stirs slightly, but his whole body aches and moving is painful. He tries to open his eyes, but it seems like a tremendous amount of effort.
"Hey. Damn, you are in bad shape." The man's voice is followed by a series of three beeps. Then he's talking again.
But listening isn't worth it and opening his eyes isn't worth it and the sound of the ocean waves is too loud….
"Stay with me, man. You gotta stay with me until the ambulance gets here."
He focuses on the voice, using it to pull himself away from the fuzzy edges of unconsciousness. He tries to inhale, but he's gripped by the need to cough and he does so, weakly, surprised by how much it hurts his chest. Slowly, he opens his eyes to the blinding brightness of the sky. Once he's had a moment for his eyes to adjust, he can vaguely make out the features of the man kneeling above him.
Spiky, warm brown hair, high cheekbones, vivid green eyes. Rugged, like he's seen a lot despite his age. Familiar.
"Who—" The urge to cough overtakes him again and he starts to cough as though his lungs want to turn themselves inside out. He rolls to the side, hacking, retching, his chest burning.
He feels a hand on his shoulder. There's a grimace in the man's voice. "Hang on, buddy, just another couple minutes. I think I can hear the…"
The world falls away into blackness.