The bomb counted down in front of them. From just over 5 minutes.
He looked to his left, to his sister staring at it transfixed. She caught him and turned her head.
"Dave, I'm sorry." He looked at the countdown. 4:58. Absentmindedly answering,
"It's ok." He gulped, turning back to the bomb. Did the death beds even work? He didn't want to die. But it would be better this way, he supposed. Better than on the end of a sword, the end of Bro's sword.
"Dave,"
"Yeah?" He turned to her again, Rose's face was wrought with some emotion. Sadness? Dave didn't know.
"I. I'm scared." She sniffed,
"Same." His eyes welled up. He didn't want to die - he was only thirteen. 3: 21. "I'm scared to die."
Rose let out a shaking sob and stood on the orange slab, almost buckling with the ferocity of her tears. Dave stared at the countdown, his own tears snaking down his cheeks.
"I don't want to die." He sobbed as Rose frantically nodded, as if that would change their fate. She echoed him as the countdown hit two minutes.
He began hyperventilating. Two minutes! He had two minutes. They had two minutes.
Locking the joints of his knees so he didn't collapse to them, he looked to Rose. She reached out a shaking hand.
Craving the comfort he leaned over and gripped her fingers. Their sweaty palms didn't bother them as they looked to each other for comfort without leaving the slab, just in case they could survive.
The liquid bubbled over as the they had 10 seconds.
"I'm sorry." Whimpered Rose as they clutched at each other harder.
A deafening noise was heard and the last thing Dave felt was being ripped away from Rose.