SIUIL
A RUIN (GO, MY LOVE)
Chapter 3
by Yseult deBreton
They had not planned for every contingency. This was a desperate life or death struggle, and the winners were those who drew on their baser survival instincts. For Oz those instincts belonged to the werewolf. Initially, he had fought the transformation through the sheer exertion of his will. And then Willow was killed, and Oz was consumed with unbearable rage and grief. These powerful emotions upset his precarious tightrope act, and the werewolf had emerged in a crazed fury.
Ultimately, Oz survived the Mayor’s feast because he was a werewolf. When
his rage was spent, he reverted back to his human form. Dazed, he surveyed the
landscape and promptly vomited. The school grounds were a nightmarish scene
of ravaged bodies and grotesque debris covered with dust and soot and the sickly
sweet smell of death. Oz continued to vomit and dry heave until there was nothing
left inside of him. Wiping his mouth on his shirtsleeve, he stood and tried
not to breathe deeply. A surreal black rain was falling. He could hear terrible
screams from the surrounding neighborhoods. Guessing that the Mayor ascended.
Time to move on. But, first, he needed to see Willow again.
He searched until he spotted a body with silky red hair and a yellow jacket.
He turned it over and lovingly cleaned Willow’s pale face. He ran his fingers
over it memorising the fine details and caressing the freckles. He touched her
eyebrows and lips and gave her forehead a soft kiss. “I’m so sorry,”
he whispered. He removed the stake from his pocket and plunged it into her chest.
After seeing Vampire Willow, his Willow had been very clear about not coming
back as a “skanky vamp ho in leather pants and a corset so tight I can’t
breathe but then I guess you don’t need to breathe when you’re a vampire,
do you? But I did look kind of sexy. Don’t you think I looked kind of sexy,
Oz?” She had indeed looked very sexy, and he had stopped further babbling
with a heated kiss. Oz smiled at the memory.
What he really wanted to do was dig a deep grave and bury Willow’s body.
He didn’t have time. Instead, he laid his girlfriend gently on the ground
and quickly walked away. Goodbye, Willow.
Angel couldn’t
find Buffy, but he could smell her blood and that terrified him. He had lost
the Mayor when he entered the building and crawled through random openings in
the debris. The vampire had climbed over demolished furniture and under cracked
and trembling beams following Buffy’s bloody scent where he could. He had
been stopped by a mountain of crushed metal, broken plaster, and melted structural
supports. He had tried to go around it, over it, even through it. There was
no access to the other side. He had called Buffy’s name, begging and pleading
for her to respond. There had been no answer. Maybe she’s waiting at The
Bronze.
He emerged from the remnants of Sunnydale High covered with soot and ash and
God knows what else. It was nightfall and somewhere Buffy was hurt. Please
be safe. I need you to be okay.
Angel found Oz waiting outside of The Bronze. Together they lifted an unconscious Wesley into Oz’s van. Angel had discovered the ex-Watcher behind a bush, as if he’d been thrown out of the way. Which he probably had. Angel couldn’t leave him there. The man had barely stirred as the vampire carried him through the streets of Sunnydale. With each step, Angel cursed the Englishman under his breath. I can’t believe I’m doing this. You barely threw a punch. And I need to find Buffy, not take care of you. Wesley had punctuated Angel’s monologue with moans as he floated out of his dream world. The ongoing waves of pain had quickly submerged him back into silence.
Oz and Angel tried to straighten Wesley’s broken body, but the moaning
quickly descended into screams. They gave up and left him lying in the back
of the van. They had been painfully silent during the entire gruesome exercise.
Finally, Oz spoke to Angel. “Did you find her?” The vampire shook
his head.
“I’m sorry about Willow,” he replied. “Did you see anyone
else?” Cordelia or Giles? Why isn’t Xander with you?
Oz looked at his feet, lost in thought. He’d seen Larry’s crumpled
body, Jonathan’s dismembered corpse, Percy’s broken neck. He had not
seen Xander or, more specifically, he had not seen anything that resembled Xander.
But that was a meaningless statement. On the school’s bloody grounds, there
was a horrifying distinction between those who had died early in the fighting
and those who were consumed at its end.
“How long should we wait?” Oz asked Angel. The answer was an earthquake
that split the road in half. “I don’t think we can,” admitted
Angel. But I can’t leave either. What if she comes here? “But
we will,” said Oz, then added, “She’ll be here.”
Wesley moaned again as another quake shook the van.
They waited an hour, then left. Not because Angel wanted to. Wesley was finally conscious and coherent and in full-blown Watcher mode. He was also not screaming in pain. Oz and Angel had exchanged a quizzical look at this change. “Hey, man,” broached Oz, “you doin’ okay?”
Wesley had pulled himself into a sitting position on the van’s floor. The
side door was open, and he could see the fires and rain and hear the screams.
Another tremor rocked the van. Only Angel and Oz were here. Wesley could guess
the rest. The Mayor had ascended. Sunnydale was about to disappear. They were
the only survivors. They needed to leave… now. He explained it to them
in excruciating detail. Angel turned to Oz, “I think I liked it more when
he was comatose.”
“I’ll second that,” said Oz and closed the door on a still-pontificating
Wesley. “But, the man does have a point.”
“Yeah, I know.” Angel tried to visualize the next few days. “We should stop at the mansion and get some weapons and, uh, supplies.” Angel had last fed when Buffy had … He could still feel the elixir of her blood in his veins; it would last for several days. But Wesley and Oz needed food and water, and the roads would soon be impassable. They really did have to leave now. He scanned the area around The Bronze again and tried to sense her presence. She wasn’t here. He would wait for her forever. But, if they didn’t leave now, Oz and Wesley would not survive the night. Buffy, where are you?
“Let’s go,” he said reluctantly and climbed into the van.
