Page 20 of The Last Man on Earth
“I’m ‘bout to dig a hole,” he says hoarsely. “I might need you to help.”
I nod and push myself up, my leg screaming in protest as I limp after him to a spot near the wreckage.
In his hands is an axe he no doubt grabbed from the plane. He grips it like it’s the only thing tethering him to this earth.
I sit carefully out of reach of the axe. He digs, swing after swing, hacking at roots, gouging the soil, tossing clumps aside with his bare hands. It’s not an easy job, I see that plainly. Sweat runs down his temples, dripping from his jaw. Eventually, he strips off his shirt, and I feel heat crawl up my neck that isn’t from the sun.
His chest and arms flex with every swing, muscles straining, tattoos slick with sweat. I didn’t know those were hiding under his clothes. The ink curls over his shoulder, black lines over brown skin, disappearing into the waistband of his jeans. I shouldn’t be staring at a grieving man like this, especially not ten feet away from the bodies of his family. He’s one more tragedy away from a mental breakdown, but God help me, he’sbeautiful.
I clear my throat and lift a water bottle, holding it out to him. “Here.”
He takes it without a word, gulps, then pours some over his face before returning to work. Hours bleed by, at least I think it’s hours. Time is only marked by the rhythm of his grunts and the thud of the axe. My stomach caves in on itself, my throat is parched, my lips dry and cracked. But I hold out. I won’t eat, not until Kiara has a proper place to rest.
Finally, the hole is deep enough, at least according to Villain. He throws the axe to the side and slumps against the dirt wall, chest heaving. I offer to help him carry her, but he shakes his head.
“You can’t do it,” he says. “But even if you could, it should be me.”
I nod as he disappears into the clearing. When he returns, Kiara is in his arms, her small body draped against his chest. He lowers her into the grave like she’s made of glass, his tears dripping into the soil with her.
“Can I say a prayer?” I ask softly, half expecting to get cussed out again.
But he nods.
I bow my head. “Lord, please take her into your arms. We thank you for the light she brought into the world, however short her time may have been. Give her rest from her pain, and surround her with peace and love. Help us remember her not as she died, but as she lived. And help us, the ones left behind, be comforted by her memory and carry forward with strength. Amen.”
My throat burns. I swallow a lump and look up at Villain. “Do you wanna say anything?”
His voice cracks as he barely whispers, “Thank you, Ms. K. I love you.”
Together, we take handfuls of dirt and scatter them over her, then more until Villain climbs out and buries her fully, tamping the mounds of dirt with his hands. After, he stares down at the finished grave with tears streaming down his cheeks.
For a long time, silence settles over us. Then he tips his head back, studying the empty blue sky.
“How does this work? With crash and rescue,” he says, bringing his eyes to mine. “Ain’t there supposed to be…I don’t know, fuck…like a GPS locator or some shit?”
“The black box.”
He stares at me, eyes rimmed in red. “It’s probably burnt up, right?”
“No. They’re built to withstand extreme heat.”
“Then why the fuck…?” he trails off, searching the sky again. “Somebodygottabe on the way. Right?” His voice is desperate and grasping.
I don’t answer. I have no answer to give, really.
Deep down, that gnawing feeling is festering, trying it’s hardest to crawl back to the surface of my consciousness. And that’s this: What if nobody ever comes?
Chapter 11
Villain
I sit on thedirt with my back against a tree, legs stretched out, a half-empty bag of kale chips sagging in my hand. These shits ain’t even coming close to hitting the spot, but Ariana seems to be enjoying the nuts. She’s crunching loud as fuck.
I don’t know if it’s a good or a bad thing that I still have an appetite. I’m still seeing Ms. K’s face. Dropping dirt on top of her. It’s running on a loop in my head so much, I’m real close to popping a few pills to make that shit go away.
What am I gonna tell her kids? She has two, a son and a daughter. A fine ass daughter that I didn’t fuck out of respect for Ms. K. That’s how much that woman meant to me.
I clear my throat. “How your leg feelin’?”
