Chapter 3: Death Rattle
Ed's steps were heavy, his ragged breaths all that could be heard at times in the otherworldly silence that followed him as he continued to rush. It had been deafening that night in April, perhaps he'd never hear another sign of life again. Now all Ed could hear was his time running out.
The lab, the university, all of it had disappeared behind him, reduced to ashes. The pretty equations and notes they'd collected, the hours of seeking the truth, now lived in Ed's head where they belonged. Confined to the corners of his mind, for nobody else to ever find.
It had been weeks of pushing west, closer to Strasbourg, closer to crossing the Rhine. Ed had to move under the cover of night, there was too much activity lately. Soldiers were fluttering about, the air sirens in the distance never ceased and it slowly dawned on him that he was moving against the flow. He advanced from open field to forest, and then passed by the outskirts of each small town, again and again. Following the sun, despite how weary his bones were.
By late June, Ed knew what hunger felt like. An ache he simply could not shake. He was empty, each day mentally screaming at himself to keep putting one foot in front of the other. Until one morning he gazed upon the fringes of Strasbourg, and the main bridge connecting him to sanctuary. He couldn't mistake the subtle hints of hysteria surrounding the enemy now as he carefully made his way through. Ed didn't quite comprehend why he hadn't been stopped and extensively interrogated, how he had been allowed to stroll right through the belly of the beast and simply keep wandering.
But by then it was mid-July, and the Allies had begun to take back this wretched place. Ed had stumbled upon a worn and outdated newspaper some days later, Paris was free and the west would bring him salvation. The summer was not kind to him, but faded into fall and Ed wondered if Hohenheim would be rounded up as a POW. Perhaps as a distinguished member of the scientific community, he'd be spared and harnessed to help bring this war to a conclusion. If they learned of Ed's contributions, he wondered if he would be branded a traitor or a redeemer?
It was just outside Nancy when Ed came upon a clash between the two fronts, the liberators propelling the enemy back amidst a flurry of gunshots and starbursts. Ed really had a talent for ending up in the wrong place at exactly the wrong time. If he'd been a poet, he could write entire books now on goodbye looks. Helpless to help, and planted by dread, he watched from the tree line as the two parallel lines ripped the earth to shreds. The ground painted reds and blacks, the thick miasma of copper lingering in the air. But Ed had to drift away now and push southwest.
Far apart from the haunting death rattles of young men, apart from the sky ripping open and the vibrations of stars plummeting toward mortals. He was sure he would never be able to sleep again, the ungodly colors burned into his retina. The muffled cries and mechanical hum that reverberated through his being, each new sound causing him to jump to his defenses. He'd absconded with the enemy's precious knowledge, all etched into his brain, leaving them utterly abandoned. Ed was sure that death was not far behind.
Winter was unforgiving, his feeble body meandered towards the seaside town of La Rochelle. It rained often, and the ocean stretched on forever. Nothing had been untouched by this war. Would they find him and torment him until he spilled out the very secrets he'd sworn to bring to his grave? Had they followed his shadow this whole time?
Ed wondered if this war was suspended in constant motion. There were too many variables and outside forces exerting pressure, and still this perpetual dance between life and death remained. Should he just take himself out of the equation?
The Gate must be laughing at him. His soul was starving, and in his frailty he knew that he was fracturing. Ed was marred by fissures, slowly seeping and threatening to betray his sanity for a moment of rest.
By the end of Spring, the enemy gave in and his world was hushed with a pervasive and pensive quietness. With each day he felt himself drift into the grey in-between, neither here or there. The town soon bustled as life began to forge ahead toward an unknown and hopeful future. But Ed was still stuck in that burning building. He'd become a demon riding shotgun, as the car swerved over the cliff. He was holding a gun to his head with no trigger.
Summer crept past, he heard nothing from no one, and the world kept spinning. Warm afternoon showers dusted the coast. He'd watch the waves grow and then cascade upon themselves. The murky depth pulled him in, to eventually crest with blinding light, and then submerge him in utter despair. He'd preferred not to feel anything at all.
It had been a crisp Fall morning when the town erupted in elation as the eastern enemy had finally folded. Now the world was at peace, but Edward was in pieces. Headlines declared that the might of the new world had harnessed the power of the sun, leaving nothing in its wake. He read about entire cities vanishing overnight. Science had reached its pinnacle, claiming the power of the gods, to drag earth into the clutches of the underworld.
Ed had gravely miscalculated. Elsewhere in this world, other madmen had fluttered about and finished what he dared not. All his waiting had been for nothing, the blood on his hands would never come out. He may not have dropped the bomb, but he didn't prevent it either. How could he be so naive as to think that mankind would not pursue the power of death at all costs? How could he believe in others to distinguish between good or evil?
Did he love this world, even if it wasn't his world?
He yearned to know what was hurt, and what was love.
He mourned the world before him. He'd failed to see the entire perspective, and now Pandora's box had been pried open. Was there any hope bright enough to penetrate this black hole? Here he was, standing at the precipice of the event horizon. Disappearing like smoke rings into the darkness, captive for all eternity.
Ed had not recognized the taste of metallic even as it hit his tongue. His body moved as if it was natural, his mind was weightless as he stared out at the sea. Were his dreams as dead as they seemed? His hand hesitating momentarily, trembling out of self-preservation and fear. He took one more labored breath and gripped the trigger.
It happened quietly, then the sun faded to black.
Suddenly there was maniacal laughter enveloping him. A crushing force plucked him from death, ripping him upwards into a void of white. He struggled to open his eyes in the harsh light, a familiar voice calling out to him. He could feel the smirk on the Gate's face, staring at him in wild disbelief for a minute, then cackling.
The Gate paced back and forth, musing to itself, occasionally glancing over toward him. An amused smile gracing its lips, causing Ed to shiver. Why was he even here and why wasn't it over yet?
But before he could form words, the Gate was in front of him, hand stretched out. Pushing him away as the doors creaked open behind him and his body fell through the gap. Ed looked back at the Gate, perplexed. But the Gate shook its head and simply said, "It was the world before you, Edward."
And from everything came nothingness.
Well and there we have it. Part One comes to a close. Now comes the challenging part. I'll do my best this weekend to get some work done on Part Two.
I think science can be so devastatingly beautiful sometimes.
I think writing this puts me in a really nostalgic but bad headspace haha
[ i saw galaxies in your eyes. ]
