Joe was gone, and Marla didn't want to live anymore. Everyone was at his funeral, but she didn't want to go. It would've been too much to see him in that casket.
She wanted to remember him like the last time she saw him. Handsome in his form-fitting jersey. He pretended to lose his letterman jacket just so he could give it to her. Every time she locked eyes with his baby blues, he'd flash his crooked smile. They'd been in love since they were kids, and they were going to get married after high school.
Now, it was never going to happen.
Life wasn't supposed to claim him in that car accident. It felt like a long time ago, even though it was just a week ago. Everyone was cramming in Buck's station wagon. They were going to cruise Midland for fun, and celebrate the big win at Buck's cousin's house. Marla would've gone with them if she didn't have to watch her brother Jimmy. She kissed him goodbye as the beers were being passed around.
It was later determined that the driver was already intoxicated. But Marla thought like the other kids. Nothing was ever going to happen to them…not even death. In his final moments, Marla wondered if Joe saw the truck coming. Or was he having too much of a good time to notice?
Her parents kept trying to console her, but all Marla wanted to do was disappear in her grief. She just wanted to disappear period.
Today, she was going to end it all. As she sat atop the Barstow water tower, Marla wondered if her parents would understand. She imagined what her mother would say to Marla's younger brother Jimmy. She imagined him crying and being confused that she would never come back. Marla almost had second thoughts, but she missed Joe too much. She needed to be with him.
Marla closed her eyes and jumped. With her arms spread out, she could feel her body soaring through the summer heat. The letterman jacket enveloped her body. The memories of Joe rushed through her head. She could see him smiling again, beckoning her to join him.
You have to take care of them now. You have to take care of each other. You have to be strong. Dawn, the hardest thing in this world is to live in it. Be brave. Live for me.
Where was that voice coming from? Other voices spoke at once in Marla's mind. Even though some were in another language, she could still comprehend what they were saying.
You talk about slaying like it's a job. It's not. It's who you are.
Tell my mother I'm sorry.
You made me a killer…a cold-blooded murderer.
The mission's what matters.
And the deaths…so much death at the hands of fanged creatures. They were…vampires? Over and over again. It was like sand reversing through an hourglass.
I have no speech, no name. I live in the action of death. The blood cry, the penetrating wound. I am destruction, absolute, alone.
An image of a dreadlocked African woman flashed in Marla's mind. It startled Marla enough to open her eyes. She instinctively grabbed one of the ladders to break her trajectory. Then, she somersaulted down to the ground—creating a cloud of dirt as she landed hard on her feet. She didn't even have any broken bones.
Whoa, thought Marla. She felt power like no other coursing through her veins. It was as if all those voices in her head were…her. They all seemed to be chastising Marla. How could Marla even think of ending her life when she was so needed?
Marla arrived home in a daze. Her family was already home from the funeral. Thinking that she was overcome by mourning, they surrounded her with sympathy and comfort—telling her that Joe was entered in the earth in peace.
With sadness and realization, Marla carefully embraced her family. She knew that she would be leaving Barstow soon. No matter what the destination is, she would carry Joe's and her family's love with her. She was a Slayer now. But in contrast to what the First Slayer proclaimed, the Slayer wasn't alone anymore. They were free now, and Marla was going to find the others.