The air was icy-cold that day, and the white flowers tracing their way up the dry winter's hill rustled softly, making the only sound in the universe that fell upon Abby Maitland's ears. Her tears, which fell freely down her round face, froze against her skin. In trembling hands she held flowers of the deepest blue, which she'd snatched hastily from her lab in the new ARC—she didn't really consider asking for them, for two main reasons: Lester never would've okayed it (certainly not this new bloke Burton) and she didn't feel she had to ask. In the Cretaceous, you took what you needed and left nothing to be scavenged. She needed the flowers.
She hadn't cried at Stephen's funeral; she had wept her fair share the day he died, of course. Connor sat in the living room while she poured her eyes out in her room, and when finally she crept from her hiding place to him, he held her as she cried. But at his funeral, there was a certain shared formality among them. Lester and the other ARC members were there, as well as Caroline; the stoicism of the core team, Lester had impressed upon them, would help the soldiers and scientists as they grieved.
At Cutter's death, everyone wept. He was their leader, the cement that held the team in place; it didn't matter whether he was half-mad, eccentric, or perfectly sane, because he was Cutter. Even Lester, Abby noticed, was uneasy after his death. There was role-reversal in the flat that night; Abby waited up as Connor wept in solitude before coming out to be held in her arms. They cried together until the sun crept above the horizon, and fell into gradual sleep upon the couch together. They woke only to a call from Becker, the call that told them the world kept spinning even after such a heartless day had passed.
She reached the base of the little hill, where she found a marble stone and grass a shade greener than that surrounding it. Angling her head just a bit, she could see Stephen's wooden cross; the other direction, and she saw Cutter's stone. Returning her gaze before her, she fell to her knees. The flowers seemed to float from her cold fingers to the ground just at the base of the stone. It was a pretty stone, she thought as she swallowed the bile rising within her throat. She never thought she'd return to find yet another beloved friend lost…forever.
Beneath her fingers, the marble felt so hollow, so fragile. She traced along the engraved lettering with the very tips of her fingers, arrows of ice piercing her heart. It made her heart break to imagine her friend down there beneath her…she didn't even get the chance to attend her funeral.
Sarah Page
Loving Friend, Devoted Scientist
1981-2010
She was mauled, mauled to shreds…her body down there was barely human anymore, only what the ARC could collect…her heart ached for Becker, the last person to see her alive. The last name on her lips. She couldn't imagine finding Sarah like that, body mangled by the ravenous creature.
Sarah was a one-of-a-kind woman. She had the sort of eyes that professed tremendous wisdom, and after meeting and knowing her for such a time, Abby could vouch for the truth in them. Of all of the team that could've died, it was Sarah. Sarah, so meek and independent and wise. She was scared sometimes, but it never stopped her, never once.
Abby would've traded places with her if she could've.
Slowly she pushed herself to her feet. The flowers looked pretty there, before the headstone. Her tears were cried now, her eyes red and swollen. The clouds were beginning to break in the sky; as Abby left the graveyard, she bowed her head away from the sunlight trickling through the sky.
There would be no Connor waiting for her at home. There was no home anymore, only the spare room in Jess's flat. Connor was with Burton, toiling away the hours on his ridiculous, secret Prospero projects. Connor was always with Burton anymore, driven as a slave in that bloody ARC. He was barely human anymore…he was certainly not a shoulder to cry on.
She could only live on, and pray this was the last time she had to meet a friend as a stone in the ground.
