Miles to Go

[Dogs231]

The group marched in silence. They were an army of the living dead, their fates decided long ago by their new and evil higher powers, deaths declared for all the world to watch as their lives trickled away. Like grains of sand in the hourglass, snowflakes on a hot stove. The days of yonder gone so quickly, even horrible memories grew halcyon in comparison.

Quietus had never felt so apt a term.

S091: CLAIRE HAIG — CONTINUED FROM "Better Than Cobalt"

Claire trudged through the snow, one step after another, one foot, then another, even as the activity sent aches coursing through her legs. A crunch punctuated each step, and together all eight of their collective feet made a discordant percussion, captors now turned conductors, a symphony to accompany the march towards their inevitable fate.

In a way, it reminded her of a far, far more pleasant place than here. Back home, she and her mother's family would visit a local tree farm year after year in preparation for the holidays. She had always regarded it with bitterness before—her mother's quest for perfection contrasted by her desire to get it over with—but now, she longed for that connection.

She shut her eyes tightly and stopped, dead in her tracks. Then, her chest contracted as she took a deep breath, and the cold night air filled her lungs. Then, she let it all out, opened her eyes again, and clasped her gloved hands tightly. After that, she returned to routine, one step after another, one foot, then another, again, again, right foot before the left.

Desire drove her footfalls; purpose pushed her forward. Those were two of the only things she could cling to now amidst the ruins of everything, so she held, tight, to them, lifelines in the afterlife. Despite the passion, she still felt cold, even through her layers and layers and layers of clothes, frozen to the core of her bones, as if there was ice inside her marrow.

It made her realize something—a long-belated revelation.

Life was life—it simply was. There had never been any meaning deeper than the surface level, or so went her thoughts. She had never believed in any higher power than those that existed in a material sense, the laws of men, and not of gods. And, like so many other things in her life, she had taken her own life for granted. At times, she had even cursed the idea.

At times, she had hated her life. Some days, it was hard to move, hard to breathe; hard to think, harder still to feel; hard to even so much as exist in this plane. And, in those times, her mind went to dark places, lurking shadows, tendrils in the back of her mind's half-blind eye. She did not cross the point of no return. But she had considered it at times before.

Claire had never truly cared about her life until she lost it.

Now, far too late, she knew that she did not want to die.

And that meant that she had to keep going, keep walking. Sharks died if they stopped swimming; damned if she went and joined them. One step after another, one foot, then another, again, again, right foot before the left. Over and over and over and over and over again. And she wouldn't stop because, deep down, there was a burning feeling in her heart.

And it said:

"I want to live."

S091: CLAIRE HAIG — CONTINUED IN "Beyond the Grave"