JEWEL
TONES – ONYX
(Five Faiths That Never Were, Part 5)
When the first sporadic deaths occurred in New York, no one was paying any attention. A localized incident; acidic gas, no
problem, the government said. But when more people began to die in smaller
towns outside the city, the whole country sat up and took notice. The media
blamed the government and the government swore its innocence, and by the time
it spread to DC, Atlanta and LA, the entire country was in
an uproar—but it was already way too late.
I guess we thought we were going to be safe. After all, we'd lived so long outside
the rest of the world, fighting creatures most people didn't even know existed.
We hadn't lived in a purely human world for a very long time, and I guess,
somehow, we thought we'd be outside its rules. That our little group of
Cleveland Hellmouth Slayerettes would live forever.
After all, we'd already lived through so much.
Then the first marks appeared on Xander, and we realized that all the fights,
all our love, our friendships and trials, none of it meant anything. All the apocalyptic
battles we'd survived, all the good we'd done, all our heroics meant nothing to
this silent, uncaring killer. It was coming for us just the same as everyone
else. We had the ability to turn back the forces of Hell itself, to conjure and
create from nothing, and we were still all going to die.
We were lost.
In the short time the world had left to live, people took to calling it
Creeping Death. I don't know why. It's more like a racehorse once it gets hold
of you. No one knew where it came from, or why—though considering the symptoms,
blaming the government seemed fair—and pretty soon, there wasn't anybody left
to ask. It all happened so fast.
We'd barely begun to deal with Xander's illness when it entered the final
stages, and by then, Giles and Wood were already sick, too. I have blurred
memories of holding Dawn's hand, my fingers curled in her hair, feeling the
fever radiate from her in sickening waves. I remember Wood screaming for his
mother when the end came, remember Giles laying silent, like a pale tattooed
wraith, his bloodshot eyes become flat, empty mirrors. You'd think, with
something like that, when the deterioration process is so ugly and slow, that
when death finally came it would be a relief. But it never was. Every time one
of them died it only got harder to take.
Willow held on the longest. For a while
we thought she might actually make it. When she was gone there was only me and
Buffy. We cried, and we grieved and we watched pretty much the rest of the world
drop like flies around us until we were convinced that our Slayer powers were
all that was keeping the disease at bay.
But then, a few weeks after Willow's
death, Buffy came up sick. Buffy, my Slayer sister, the one I'd thought would
stick around and help me stay sane through all this. She was the hardest. I
stayed with her and held her until the end, ashamed that all I felt beyond sadness
was the terror that I was going to be next.
For the next couple of weeks I was pretty much catatonic. I lived in this kind
of numb state of shock where I woke up every morning and expected to see little
black circles of death spotting my skin, like the reaper coming to claim me one
painful inch at a time. But every morning, against all odds and common sense, I
came up clean. Eventually I figured I must be immune; that lucky one percent of
the human population that just also happened to be a Slayer.
By that time there was no one else left alive in Cleveland.
I didn't give a whole lot of thought to where I was going 'til I got to LA and
found Angel. His face was drawn, pale, etched with more lines than I could ever
remember seeing. He'd never smiled much before, but he smiled less than ever now,
and his eyes were haunted with the ghosts of the recently dead. He was ecstatic
to see me, but at that point I think he was so lonely he'd have been happy to
see a puppy.
The disease doesn't affect vampires, of course. Nothing in them to feed on, or
kill, I guess. It also doesn't affect certain types of animals. The human race,
though? Damned near history.
Sometimes I think about how pissed Spike would be. All that noble
self-sacrifice and then humanity goes and offs itself anyway.
What a fucking joke.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
The breeze from the Pacific
Ocean coasts over my
skin, salty scent mingling with the stench of ash burning on the beach below.
Of course some people survived. Not many, but some. Most of them have come out
here to the coast like we have, where the air is fresher, cleaner, far away
from the cities choked with the bodies of the dead.
This night marks three months that Angel and I've been here, and I'm still not
used to this. I swallow against the lump in my throat and realize that given
the situation, I suppose that's just as well.
I squint my eyes into the distance and try to pretend that it's just normal
people down there around the bonfires. Young people staying up late to drink
and make out and do the drunken shuffle along to the latest Top 40 hit on their
little Panasonic radios. Nothing out of the ordinary here at all.
Sometimes, when the scent of burning flesh relents a little, I can almost
believe it.
Later, Angel comes up the cliff to join me like he usually does; a pale,
handsome vision still clothed in dramatic black. The disease may have killed
off a lot of things, but Angel's fashion sense hasn't suffered a bit.
We sit for a while and watch the people below, neither of us really talking to
the other. We do this so often now that it's almost like a ritual. And we don't
really need to talk, anyway, because there's usually enough comfort for each of
us in just knowing that the other is there. That we're not alone. He could go
anywhere in the world he wanted, but he came here with me to this alien place
that has somehow become humanity's new world order. This place where people
burn the bodies of the countless dead night and day in an attempt to begin
rebuilding their lives.
After a while, he tilts his head thoughtfully at the beach and speaks.
"You know, when this is done, they're going to need someone to look out for
them. Protect them from other things."
I can tell he's trying to make me feel better, trying to look toward the future
where we'll have something better to do than sit around and smell burning
bodies all night long. Normally I'd find it touching. For such a bad ass he's
really a great big sweetie. But tonight it only pisses me off.
"It's going to have to be you," I say, rolling up the sleeve of my shirt and
showing him the cluster of black circles gathered by my wrist.
After all, for me, there's not going to be a future.
His face goes taut and he looks away, mouth pressing down into a fine, pale
line. "Dammit, Faith." I watch him struggle with his emotions and I try to feel
sorry for him, I really do. But I feel too sorry for me to be much good at it.
"You know, I'd say that it's really no big," I laugh bitterly. "Except that it
is." I shake my head and stare at the interlocking circles that blur and fade
together in the dim firelight from afar. With my eyes full of tears they look
like little skulls. "I'm not ready to die." Of course I'm not. Neither was
Buffy. Or Giles. Or Willow. Or Xander. Memories of them vomiting and choking,
black circles cutting patterns into their skin like barbed wire flare to life
in the eye of my mind.
Why now? It isn't fair. It's been months since the Creeping Death hit, and now
I get it? Stroke of luck? Twist of fate? Virus mutation? I don't know. All I
know for sure is that I'm dying, and I feel tiny, scared and alone.
All these months, watching everyone die, living with the pain and the guilt of
survival… I'd really believed that I was going to live. I'd thought I had time.
"I'm tired, Angel. My body hurts, my bones ache, and I've got this fever
creeping up the back of my throat like the sun after a night full of drinking tequila.
But I don't want to die. I'm not supposed to die."
He puts his arm around me and shelters me from the sea breeze, and we sit like
that in silence for a long time. Down below, the surf hits the sand, tides as
inexorable and changeless as the disease inside my body that's eating me alive.
I sit and stare and lean into Angel, taking what cold comfort I can from him. I
think of a little girl in pants two sizes too big for her, remember the
sunshine on my face as I swung high on my rickety swing set, trying so hard to
touch the sky, trying to fly. I remember, and I mourn for the woman I dreamed of
but never became; the woman I might've gotten to be some day, given a chance.
"I'm going to miss you," he says quietly, and his voice trembles.
I press my lips together and fight for control as I look up at him through
bitter tears.
"Yeah. Me too."
* * * * * * * * * * *
Another twenty-four hours have passed, here on the ragged edge of the world. Tonight
Angel is gone, and I sit crouched on the sun beaten rocks alone, black circles
snaking up my arm like damning tattoo's all the way up to my shoulder joint.
There's a burning that rises from my gut all the way to my mouth, and I'm
always thirsty now, no matter how much water I drink.
I know Angel would have stayed with me until the end. I wouldn't even have had
to ask. But in the end I begged him to leave. If he had stayed I never would
have found the strength to do what needs to be done.
I watched Buffy and all the others die slowly, painfully and stark raving mad.
I'm not going out like that.
I cock the gun in my hand and stare at it thoughtfully. The salty taste of
Angel's tears still lingers on my lips where he kissed me goodbye, and it's a
good taste; an alive taste. The kind you want to carry with you at a
moment like this because it reminds you that you were full of life and love and
breathed and tasted and laughed somewhere in there between all the pain.
I close my eyes and imagine his face, remembering the way he looked at me in
happier times. I remember all of them that way—Buffy smiling, Dawn laughing,
Giles cleaning his glasses, Xander fumbling over his words like a big goof,
Willow's nervous little smile—and pretty soon I can't tell the salt spray of
the ocean from the tears running down my face.
My hand seems to lift the gun of its own accord. From far off, I hear the
pounding of the surf, the quiet murmur of voices. Somewhere in the distance, a
seagull screams. And you know, I thought I might wait and pull the trigger at
dawn and all that poetic, trite shit, but fuck it.
Night was always more my time, anyway.