***
On the way down, Lemmy looked around. All he could see for miles was a vast desert. There was a huge expanse of mountains in the distance, and a few rocky hills scattered around the desert itself. The whole place seemed abandoned.
By the time Lemmy floated to the ground, Wendy had already landed. She looked relieved to see him.
"Whew!" she sighed. "I thought we were done for up there!"
She looked up in the direction of the Doomship. It was gone, but her eyes were still aimed skyward.
"Lemmy," said Wendy slowly. "Where's Iggy?"
"Well, um," Lemmy felt like he was going to be sick. "Iggy's not here."
"Well I can see that. Where is he? He's not. He did make it down, right?"
He couldn't bring himself to say the words out loud, but Wendy only had to see the look on his face to figure it out.
"No," her voice wavered. Her eyes voiced a silent plea. "No. He's not dead. Tell me he's all right. Please."
"I couldn't. Couldn't help," His voice cracked. He couldn't say it, or he knew he'd fall apart. "I tried. Not enough time."
He clenched his fists in anger suddenly. He hated everyone and everything right now. He was mad at Wendy, for bringing this upon him. At himself, for not being able to help his brother when he really needed it. At Iggy, for pushing him out, when there was a chance he could have helped. A chance.
Lemmy held back tears. He knew it wasn't fair of him to think this way, but he wasn't thinking clearly. He ran through the last couple of seconds on the Doomship in his mind. Through his blurring vision, he could almost see Iggy trying to get his parachute strings untangled.
He closed his eyes abruptly. He didn't want to see any more. But the still fresh memories could not be shut out.
He remembered trying to help. How Iggy had saved his life, but Lemmy couldn't help him. He couldn't help. Couldn't help. The ship with his brother on it had fallen right out of the sky, and Lemmy had been powerless to stop it.
It was all too much. He turned away. He didn't want Wendy to see him cry.
He could hear Wendy crying, cursing at herself behind him. He guessed that she must have felt just about how he did right at that moment. There were so many emotions and thoughts, all racing at a mile a minute inside his head. Sadness, anger, and regret were all jumbled together in a confusing mess.
"It's all my fault!" Wendy sobbed. "It's all my fault, for forcing you two into this! I'm sorry," she took a deep breath of air. "I am so sorry,"
It was the most sincere apology that Lemmy had ever heard from anyone, let alone Wendy. He knew he should be trying to comfort her, but he couldn't even concentrate any more.
"It's not your fault," was all he could manage. "I need to be alone for a while."
And with that, he began to trudge off. All he knew was that he had to be alone. Each step felt like his foot weighed a ton. He took about three steps, stumbled, and collapsed on the hot sand. He didn't even know where he was. They were both lost. Lost in some sort of barren wasteland, without even the vaguest idea of how to get home.
Soon, he was vaguely aware that Wendy had sat down beside him. He was too confused to hear what she was saying, but her soft words comforted him. His crying slowed to a soft whimper.
He soon drifted off to sleep, shrouded by a depressing sense of hopelessness.
To be continued.
Rachelle Davison 2001
On the way down, Lemmy looked around. All he could see for miles was a vast desert. There was a huge expanse of mountains in the distance, and a few rocky hills scattered around the desert itself. The whole place seemed abandoned.
By the time Lemmy floated to the ground, Wendy had already landed. She looked relieved to see him.
"Whew!" she sighed. "I thought we were done for up there!"
She looked up in the direction of the Doomship. It was gone, but her eyes were still aimed skyward.
"Lemmy," said Wendy slowly. "Where's Iggy?"
"Well, um," Lemmy felt like he was going to be sick. "Iggy's not here."
"Well I can see that. Where is he? He's not. He did make it down, right?"
He couldn't bring himself to say the words out loud, but Wendy only had to see the look on his face to figure it out.
"No," her voice wavered. Her eyes voiced a silent plea. "No. He's not dead. Tell me he's all right. Please."
"I couldn't. Couldn't help," His voice cracked. He couldn't say it, or he knew he'd fall apart. "I tried. Not enough time."
He clenched his fists in anger suddenly. He hated everyone and everything right now. He was mad at Wendy, for bringing this upon him. At himself, for not being able to help his brother when he really needed it. At Iggy, for pushing him out, when there was a chance he could have helped. A chance.
Lemmy held back tears. He knew it wasn't fair of him to think this way, but he wasn't thinking clearly. He ran through the last couple of seconds on the Doomship in his mind. Through his blurring vision, he could almost see Iggy trying to get his parachute strings untangled.
He closed his eyes abruptly. He didn't want to see any more. But the still fresh memories could not be shut out.
He remembered trying to help. How Iggy had saved his life, but Lemmy couldn't help him. He couldn't help. Couldn't help. The ship with his brother on it had fallen right out of the sky, and Lemmy had been powerless to stop it.
It was all too much. He turned away. He didn't want Wendy to see him cry.
He could hear Wendy crying, cursing at herself behind him. He guessed that she must have felt just about how he did right at that moment. There were so many emotions and thoughts, all racing at a mile a minute inside his head. Sadness, anger, and regret were all jumbled together in a confusing mess.
"It's all my fault!" Wendy sobbed. "It's all my fault, for forcing you two into this! I'm sorry," she took a deep breath of air. "I am so sorry,"
It was the most sincere apology that Lemmy had ever heard from anyone, let alone Wendy. He knew he should be trying to comfort her, but he couldn't even concentrate any more.
"It's not your fault," was all he could manage. "I need to be alone for a while."
And with that, he began to trudge off. All he knew was that he had to be alone. Each step felt like his foot weighed a ton. He took about three steps, stumbled, and collapsed on the hot sand. He didn't even know where he was. They were both lost. Lost in some sort of barren wasteland, without even the vaguest idea of how to get home.
Soon, he was vaguely aware that Wendy had sat down beside him. He was too confused to hear what she was saying, but her soft words comforted him. His crying slowed to a soft whimper.
He soon drifted off to sleep, shrouded by a depressing sense of hopelessness.
To be continued.
Rachelle Davison 2001
