Ashes to Ashes...
His entire body ached. But not as much as his heart.
Amy was dead. And he had failed to save her, and therefore failed Amy.
'I am not worthy to be your number one,' he thought, ignoring the jab of pain in his dislocated shoulder. He walked on through the forest, traveling in a general direction.
It took him several hours to find his way. It was mid-afternoon when he finally arrived home. The sun beat down upon his skin, letting sweat mix with dirt and grime. Silently, he strode through the grass.
He stopped.
'Amy.'
Somehow he didn't feel the pain as bad as before. Instead he felt very ill, his head spinning slightly as he walked - an involuntary motion. He went to the garage, and returned to his savior a moment later.
He wasn't even there anymore. He sat back in the dark recesses of his mind, barely agreeing to let his body do what was necessary. He aimed and jammed his foot down, hearing the soft crunch. He pulled back and up, lifting and overturning. The process repeated itself. The afternoon birds sung their songs. The bugs buzzed. The wind blew through the branches and leaves on the trees.
He thought, 'Everyone around me is dead, dying, or will die.'
He paused, wiping his brow. He looked down into sightless eyes. "I'm sorry," he whispered, kneeling next to her form. Hesitantly, with his hand shaking, he closed those eyes. He exhaled a breath he didn't realize he'd held. He waited a moment, gaining his bearings. Then he lifted the body gently, and placed it into the ground. His lips moved, but no sound escaped, "I'm sorry." His mind escaped him once more as his hand lifted the shovel. Down, up, over, flip; repeat. It was systematic. It was a gesture. This was the wave goodbye. Back and forth. He stopped, eventually, and dropped the tool. He stepped back, looking at the earth with its newly acquired mound.
He turned around, feeling like he was no longer welcome.
The residence that had been his home for several months was now simply nothing more than a man-made shelter out in the middle of nowhere.
001 decided he wanted his name.
His entire body ached. But not as much as his heart.
Amy was dead. And he had failed to save her, and therefore failed Amy.
'I am not worthy to be your number one,' he thought, ignoring the jab of pain in his dislocated shoulder. He walked on through the forest, traveling in a general direction.
It took him several hours to find his way. It was mid-afternoon when he finally arrived home. The sun beat down upon his skin, letting sweat mix with dirt and grime. Silently, he strode through the grass.
He stopped.
'Amy.'
Somehow he didn't feel the pain as bad as before. Instead he felt very ill, his head spinning slightly as he walked - an involuntary motion. He went to the garage, and returned to his savior a moment later.
He wasn't even there anymore. He sat back in the dark recesses of his mind, barely agreeing to let his body do what was necessary. He aimed and jammed his foot down, hearing the soft crunch. He pulled back and up, lifting and overturning. The process repeated itself. The afternoon birds sung their songs. The bugs buzzed. The wind blew through the branches and leaves on the trees.
He thought, 'Everyone around me is dead, dying, or will die.'
He paused, wiping his brow. He looked down into sightless eyes. "I'm sorry," he whispered, kneeling next to her form. Hesitantly, with his hand shaking, he closed those eyes. He exhaled a breath he didn't realize he'd held. He waited a moment, gaining his bearings. Then he lifted the body gently, and placed it into the ground. His lips moved, but no sound escaped, "I'm sorry." His mind escaped him once more as his hand lifted the shovel. Down, up, over, flip; repeat. It was systematic. It was a gesture. This was the wave goodbye. Back and forth. He stopped, eventually, and dropped the tool. He stepped back, looking at the earth with its newly acquired mound.
He turned around, feeling like he was no longer welcome.
The residence that had been his home for several months was now simply nothing more than a man-made shelter out in the middle of nowhere.
001 decided he wanted his name.