Humanity's soul
"The dying leader saved humanity, now humanity has to save its dying leader."
The raptor ascended over the water. One last journey. One doomed journey.
Next to Bill, the woman of his life was slowly succumbing to her death.
Inevitable. Merciless. Morbid.
Bill rambled and rambled about the continent, about their cabin and his plans until a dreadful silence made its way to his very soul. She never answered him. He took a look at her face- a light smile on her lips as if she was already seeing her heaven. Bill felt hot steel tearing his heart apart, coldness paralyzing his moves, his breath stuck in his throat, his hands trembling and his vision blurred by tears, terror and despondency. He reached for her wrist, whispering prays to all possible gods, trying to find a pulse…
The rocks were so close. The raptor was too low.
And then they crashed.
###
Screams, fire, blood and chaos…. Bill was desperately trying to find its way through the corridors of Galactica. He had to find Laura. He had to find her. She was dying. She needed him. He fell on the floor, his whole body hurt. The gunfire suddenly stopped. The lights went off…. or was he blind? Terrible silence covered his world.
And then, in the silence, he started hearing whispers. It was like music, it was familiar, it was something he has been craving for his entire life, he just didn't know it until now.
The mist of the dream slowly let his mind go…
Bill opened his eyes. It was dark and quiet. He could hear some soft footsteps in the distance, strange silhouettes coming closer and closer.
"He is awake" someone said. Kara. Or maybe Lee. Bill couldn't tell for his head ached like Hell.
The silhouettes were finally close enough for him to recognize them. There was Lee and Saul, Ellen and Athena. And there was Hera staring at him with smile, holding a sheet in her hand.
Laura.
"Where is she? Is she dead?"
Bill couldn't recognize his own voice. It was raspy as if he hadn't used it for quite a while.
"Where is she?" he asked again. He didn't care where he was as long as Laura was somewhere nearby. He could as well be in Hell.
Before anyone answered one of the strange figures stepped ahead. It was a man with paintings on his entire body and clothes from animal's skin. He was holding something like a torch in one of his hands, the other was occupied with a small kid, around Hera's age, a boy who curiously stared at him with the same expression as Hera's.
The man said something to the child, who was most probably his son, and he quickly ran in some direction. Then he concentrated on the lying man in front of him. Bill's head was badly injured, his arm- broken and his entire torso aching unbearably. He has never felt sp weak in his life. The man murmured something on his language and handed him a wooden vessel with something like water inside.
As if reading his mind, Ellen quietly said
"Drink it, Bill. It will help."
Bill did as she asked and drank the liquid. It was indeed water, but it had the strangest taste. Something like herbs, but not ordinary herbs- herbs that tasted more like… fruits… Bill suddenly realized he felt much better.
He raised his head with the intention to ask the same question again. He didn't like their silence. He wanted to know where Laura was. Sensing his mood, Lee came and put a hand on his shoulders, trying to make him stay in horizontal position.
"Dad, you have been unconscious for a whole week. Your raptor has crashed at the only possible rocks in the area. That tribe has found you and sent a messenger to our camp."
"A whole week?" asked Bill weakly. The last time he saw Laura she had not more than an hour.
"A whole week…" he repeated like a death sentence.
Before Lee could answer, Hera sat on his improvised bed and smiled, giving him the sheet from her hand. It was a painting.
A woman lying on the ground. And many, many little dots all around her.
"Laura" the little girl whispered with a smile and then ran away humming some melody.
Bill raised his eyes, hope so fragile that it was almost nonexistent. His son nodded.
"She is alive"
"Yet" Said Saul Tigh.
Somewhere nearby
The tribe carefully circled Laura, humming and talking fast on their language. It was a strange language, slow, complicated but melodic. They didn't exactly use words, but more tones and their whole conversation sounded like a song.
Laura, whose eyes have closed under the unbearable pain and tiredness, realized that their talking was like the strangest music she has ever heard, familiar music… one that lulled her to sleep, that calmed her down, that brought her peace…
To be continued...