Still no ball of light [Re-arrival; OTA; fwd dated to Wednesday]
Kyle was out there somewhere. An unmarked grave with a burial not at all fit for a soldier like him -- a hero. It was just like dying in the future. No burials, no ceremonies. No time to remember. There were more important things to do than grieve. You let go. You keep moving.
John and Sarah had walked on ahead, Derek following but he took one last sweep of the cemetery with intense eyes, saying a silent goodbye to his brother before he jumped in his truck, Cameron next to him.
Before he knew it they were at the Weaver house and it was Derek's job to clear the rooms. He was quick, careful, methodical, gun pointed high and ahead of him, ready to fire a shot in the head if he needed to.
Around the corner -- he didn't expect it.
Metal.
He heard the gunshot ring and then Derek felt numb, everything went black. What he didn't know was that he was dead even before his body hit the ground.
It felt like such a long time before he stirred, groaning, feeling the damp grass (grass?) under him, warm sun over him. His eyes flew open and he blinked rapidly several times.
He was alive.
Or in hell.
There was no place for the likes of him in heaven.
But this couldn't be heaven and it couldn't be hell, so, then, where the fuck was he? He stayed lying there with the sun up in the sky warming his cold tired body. Cold and tired but he was still fucking alive.
John and Sarah had walked on ahead, Derek following but he took one last sweep of the cemetery with intense eyes, saying a silent goodbye to his brother before he jumped in his truck, Cameron next to him.
Before he knew it they were at the Weaver house and it was Derek's job to clear the rooms. He was quick, careful, methodical, gun pointed high and ahead of him, ready to fire a shot in the head if he needed to.
Around the corner -- he didn't expect it.
Metal.
He heard the gunshot ring and then Derek felt numb, everything went black. What he didn't know was that he was dead even before his body hit the ground.
It felt like such a long time before he stirred, groaning, feeling the damp grass (grass?) under him, warm sun over him. His eyes flew open and he blinked rapidly several times.
He was alive.
Or in hell.
There was no place for the likes of him in heaven.
But this couldn't be heaven and it couldn't be hell, so, then, where the fuck was he? He stayed lying there with the sun up in the sky warming his cold tired body. Cold and tired but he was still fucking alive.