Post by Deleted on Nov 18, 2016 1:02:04 GMT -5
The storm had separated Anthony from the others--from Aron, from Candy. Having lived in Florida prior to the apocalypse, Anthony knew Floridian weather was often unpredictable, though usually that just meant periodic showers throughout the day. What had occurred earlier was on the level of tropical storm, and Anthony lost his companions on the way. The wind, the rain--the torrential downpour--left Anthony stranded. But when the tree fell and broke his leg...that was when Anthony knew. He heard the crack and leapt forward to avoid the falling trunk. It wasn't enough. The tree came down on Anthony's right leg, shattering it. He blacked out due to shock.
...
When he came to, the storm had passed, though the ground was still wet. The sun, however, was shining brightly upon the dampened canopy--and upon Anthony. For a brief moment, Anthony had forgotten about his leg, though the pain immediately reminded him and he let out a scream. It was then he found the blood--rather, he noticed the pool in which the bottom half of his body was saturated. Rather than be consumed by fear or panic, Anthony's eyes closed, and exhaled as slowly and calmly as he could. He knew what it meant...and he was not afraid.
Finally, after a few moments of contemplation, Anthony grabbed the ground in front of him and proceeded to pull himself out from under the tree--a feat completed neither easily nor painlessly. "Gah! Ahhh, fuck!" Anthony spat and swore as he heard the bones in his leg (and those protruding from the skin) crack under the weight of the tree as Anthony dragged himself out from under it. After a few moments, Anthony was indeed free, but also lightheaded from the pain and blood loss. Crawling only maybe five feet away to a tree that still stood tall, Anthony propped himself against the trunk, surveying his fatal wound.
It was not pretty. His foot was facing backwards, his jeans soaked with blood, bones jutting out from holes in the denim. A trail of blood marked Anthony's brief crawl from the fallen tree to where he now sat. Anthony's mind reflected back to Oklahoma, when he found Adolphus choking on his own blood while sitting propped against a tree as well. And here he was, with nobody to put him out of his misery--a courtesy he offered to Adolphus.
The pain was subsiding, and he was growing increasingly lightheaded. The blood loss was too much. Anthony began laughing in his delirious state. The pain would be gone soon, he knew.
He reflected on his life since the outbreak. He reflected on Miami, where he met Michael Collins and Baldr--his first two companions. And the mansion, with Remy and Andrei, Clementine and Dakota...in spite of his laughter, tears came to Anthony's eyes. "I'm...sorry, girls," Anthony got out, though every word was laborious now. Those little girls, Anthony knew, were still alive. They had to be. They had to be. He thought of Remy, who tried so hard to hold things together--a victim of circumstance. Someone who never wanted to lead, but found herself in the position. Andrei, who finally opened up in Bear Lake, who was let down when Adolphus burnt it to the ground. He thought of Nick Lyons, he thought of Ash, he thought of Krista and Logan McAllister and his daughters. He thought of Randall Slade and he thought of Luca--that asshole. He'd make it far, Anthony knew. Anthony reflected on the men's relationship, and how Luca came around at the end. He was happy for that, at least.
He thought of Vivian, and his body went even colder. "Vivian..." Anthony groaned in pain, and his breaths became increasingly shallow. That young woman had given Anthony much hope in the future, and yet...that hope was dashed when she disappeared one day. Anthony could only hope she was still alive, but had doubts. She was too good, too pure for this world. Without the group to keep her alive...there was no way she'd make it. Anthony's only consolation was that maybe he'd see her again soon.
Anthony thought of Candy and Aron, the two people he'd been with before the storm. They'd get to Miami--to find Candy's family and to find Grant's brother. Anthony would never be able to repay Grant for sacrificing himself. He shook his head, and could only hope Aron would be able to do that. His thoughts went to Leigh Anne and Clayton, and how Clayton had shot the girl in the head because she'd been bitten. A logical choice, but life was not all logic--something Anthony learned in this cruel world.
The pain was gone now, and Anthony could barely prop himself up against the tree. His favorite artist, Van Morrison, crept into his mind one last time. But it was not Caravan, which Vivian had sang to him in an attempt to calm him after he'd been shot by Jeff. And it was not Into the Mystic, the song Anthony had sang to himself before attempting suicide. Instead, it was Van Morrison's upbeat Bright Side of the Road.
"...and into this life we're born...sometimes we don't know why...and time seems to go by so fast, in a twinkling of an eye..." Anthony coughed and fell to the side, but there was no pain. "Let's enjoy it while we can...won't you help me share my load...from the dark end of the street, to the bright side...of...the road..."
"To the bright side...of...the...road."
"To the...br--i--ght...side...o-of...the...road."
Anthony Burns is Dead
...
When he came to, the storm had passed, though the ground was still wet. The sun, however, was shining brightly upon the dampened canopy--and upon Anthony. For a brief moment, Anthony had forgotten about his leg, though the pain immediately reminded him and he let out a scream. It was then he found the blood--rather, he noticed the pool in which the bottom half of his body was saturated. Rather than be consumed by fear or panic, Anthony's eyes closed, and exhaled as slowly and calmly as he could. He knew what it meant...and he was not afraid.
Finally, after a few moments of contemplation, Anthony grabbed the ground in front of him and proceeded to pull himself out from under the tree--a feat completed neither easily nor painlessly. "Gah! Ahhh, fuck!" Anthony spat and swore as he heard the bones in his leg (and those protruding from the skin) crack under the weight of the tree as Anthony dragged himself out from under it. After a few moments, Anthony was indeed free, but also lightheaded from the pain and blood loss. Crawling only maybe five feet away to a tree that still stood tall, Anthony propped himself against the trunk, surveying his fatal wound.
It was not pretty. His foot was facing backwards, his jeans soaked with blood, bones jutting out from holes in the denim. A trail of blood marked Anthony's brief crawl from the fallen tree to where he now sat. Anthony's mind reflected back to Oklahoma, when he found Adolphus choking on his own blood while sitting propped against a tree as well. And here he was, with nobody to put him out of his misery--a courtesy he offered to Adolphus.
The pain was subsiding, and he was growing increasingly lightheaded. The blood loss was too much. Anthony began laughing in his delirious state. The pain would be gone soon, he knew.
He reflected on his life since the outbreak. He reflected on Miami, where he met Michael Collins and Baldr--his first two companions. And the mansion, with Remy and Andrei, Clementine and Dakota...in spite of his laughter, tears came to Anthony's eyes. "I'm...sorry, girls," Anthony got out, though every word was laborious now. Those little girls, Anthony knew, were still alive. They had to be. They had to be. He thought of Remy, who tried so hard to hold things together--a victim of circumstance. Someone who never wanted to lead, but found herself in the position. Andrei, who finally opened up in Bear Lake, who was let down when Adolphus burnt it to the ground. He thought of Nick Lyons, he thought of Ash, he thought of Krista and Logan McAllister and his daughters. He thought of Randall Slade and he thought of Luca--that asshole. He'd make it far, Anthony knew. Anthony reflected on the men's relationship, and how Luca came around at the end. He was happy for that, at least.
He thought of Vivian, and his body went even colder. "Vivian..." Anthony groaned in pain, and his breaths became increasingly shallow. That young woman had given Anthony much hope in the future, and yet...that hope was dashed when she disappeared one day. Anthony could only hope she was still alive, but had doubts. She was too good, too pure for this world. Without the group to keep her alive...there was no way she'd make it. Anthony's only consolation was that maybe he'd see her again soon.
Anthony thought of Candy and Aron, the two people he'd been with before the storm. They'd get to Miami--to find Candy's family and to find Grant's brother. Anthony would never be able to repay Grant for sacrificing himself. He shook his head, and could only hope Aron would be able to do that. His thoughts went to Leigh Anne and Clayton, and how Clayton had shot the girl in the head because she'd been bitten. A logical choice, but life was not all logic--something Anthony learned in this cruel world.
The pain was gone now, and Anthony could barely prop himself up against the tree. His favorite artist, Van Morrison, crept into his mind one last time. But it was not Caravan, which Vivian had sang to him in an attempt to calm him after he'd been shot by Jeff. And it was not Into the Mystic, the song Anthony had sang to himself before attempting suicide. Instead, it was Van Morrison's upbeat Bright Side of the Road.
"...and into this life we're born...sometimes we don't know why...and time seems to go by so fast, in a twinkling of an eye..." Anthony coughed and fell to the side, but there was no pain. "Let's enjoy it while we can...won't you help me share my load...from the dark end of the street, to the bright side...of...the road..."
"To the bright side...of...the...road."
"To the...br--i--ght...side...o-of...the...road."
Anthony Burns is Dead