I find it better and more humourous if you read it in Zeke's voice.
Half as long, twice as bright.
Zeke POV
After all that Cole did, it was hard to believe he was actually gone. Not just him, all people who had the conduit gene. No more powers. For anybody. Ever again. I'm going to miss him, and his lightning hands. Hell, he had become an icon across the world - A symbol of greatness and all that made a person good. There wasn't a thing he wouldn't do for others. He made you feel good inside, and happy to be around. I don't think there was another man who had to make more choices than he did, though. I had decided to take Cole's casket up to Empire City for a more private Service, since all of New Marais was there for the first one.
Traveling on a boat isn't easy, and it sure as hell wasn't my choice, but I guess it would keep the body-snatchers away. Anyway, after the RFI gizmo blew up and the beast went boom, me and a couple of LaRoche's buddies went to his newly charred boat to see if we could find him alive. He broke his two legs and his left arm, but Christ, he was alive. So me and the crew hauled him into our boat, being that it had a proper place to lay down, and from there he just slept. I didn't worry about him too much.
We were going up the coast to Empire City when LaRoche, fitted up in my handmade wheelchair, managed to make the ship's radio work. If you're asking me how he did it with one arm, you'e asking the wrong person. Even I don't know how he did it, and I was sitting right next to him. After the radio had been fixed by that son of a gun, we tuned to the news station. Boy, the news can cover things up, but they're so far from the truth. According to them, Cole couldn't handle the guilt of creating the Empire City Event, so he unleashed one final attack - killing everyone with powers, including himself. They said they had an eyewitness there when it happened who claimed Cole's last words were, "If I can't be the only super-powered person, no one can." Isn't that the biggest load of crap you've ever heard? I have half a mind to walk up to that news station when we get there and give them a certain piece of me, but a man's gotta rest. Laying back on my cot, which was uncomfortable as hell, by the way, I just couldn't keep my eyelids shut. I was more jittery than a cricket with restless leg syndrome. Somehow, all at once, I was out cold.
That's when this crazy-ass dream began.
I was back in Empire City, hanging from a rooftop. It was raining, and lightning came so close to me I swore it damn near torched my eyebrows off. I saw in the distance, as I was hanging there, someone running across the rooftops.
"For the love of God, help me, man!", I screamed at the top of my lungs.
The cray man heard me, and came rushing my way. The figure looked familiar. It was Cole, although something had changed. He was almost pale white, his eyes turned as red as The Beast, and as he looks down at me hanging, he says,
"It should have been you, Zeke."
He crushed my fingers with his shoes until I couldn't hold on any more. I fell for what felt like forever, and then I hit the ground, instantly waking me up. Now I didn't wake up in a cold sweat... No, no, it had to be much more dramatic-like. And painful. As soon as I hit the ground in my dream I spasmed in the cot, knocking over my glasses from the sidetable. I fell off of the cot trying to catch the glasses in mid fall, but I just fell on my face and heard the glasses break on the ship's floor. When I went to pick them up, they were obviously cracked, but not spiraled. Instead, there was a single hairline crack in the left lens in the shape of a lightning bolt.
Now if that didn't freak me out I don't know what could. I stayed away from the casket the second day, just on impulse. What if it really should have been me? I don't know. My brain doesn't have an answer, but my stomach does, and from the way it's talking to me now I should probably get something to eat. As I was walking down the boat, I smelled fresh eggs. When I poked my hungry head in the kitchen, I saw the one armed wonder cooking eggs for the whole crew, or just the driver, LaRoche, and myself, but "the whole crew" sounds manlier.
Breakfast was silent, apart from the radio, and the captain said we would be reaching the coast of Empire City in a couple hours. Now his estimates might have been correct, but I think the weather said otherwise. After breakfast, I took a look outside on the deck, and it didn't look good, not one bit. A giant storm was forming on the coast, and we were headed right towards it. We got everyone inside, secured Cole's casket, and braced for impact. Waves at least 10 feet tall were hitting the boat. As soon as lightning struck, i could swear I saw an outline of Cole in the sky, but I had other matters to attend to. LaRoche was rolling all across the floor, so I had to tie him up with bungee cords. I'm just thankful that it didn't last long. We were seeing blue skies in less than a half an hour, and we rolled into the Empire City port, docked, and rolled the casket to the funeral home until the next day.
Empire City might have taken a beating, but it was recovering fast. It seems like people from all over the country came to help. The Neon was almost complete, and the Historic district was already under construction. The Warren? Let's just say it looked the same before the Beast. The funeral was planned for the next day and LaRoche, along with myself, were going to be the only ones going. I couldn't get over it, but a man has to sleep. I'll save those thoughts for the morning.
When we showed up at the graveyard, the priest said his words, and we were left to mourn. It was pouring as it if The Good Lord was crying tidal waves on us.
"Half as long, brother." I said as I stared at the coffin one last time before the burial.
I left for the motel. It was where I was staying until My building was repaired. It wasn't the most comfortable place, or the nicest smelling one, but at least it had a real bed and a microwave, and I wasn't going to complain.