Apocalypse [Pentatonix AU | Kavi / Scomiche]

Chapter 51 - Legacy

Avi pulled the trigger on the final walker that was advancing on him.

Quickly he spun, collapsing helplessly next to his Kevin, his brother, his best friend.

How was it possible that after he'd lost everything, he still continued to lose even more? Still continued to endure this indescribable pain?

"Please, Kevin, please," Avi pleaded to no one. Even through tear-filled eyes Avi could tell that Kevin Olusola was dead. That only a bloodied corpse remained.

"Why?" he asked death, voice completely broken. "Why did you have to take him? Why him? Please, no. Please let him come back. Come back, Kevin. Please. I can't lose you too. Not you too."

Avi was too weak, too mentally exhausted to continue to plead. Instead he hung his head low, placing one hand on Kevin's lifeless chest and the other on the crumpled piece of paper in his pocket. Endless tears streamed from his eyes until he ran out of tears to shed.

Taking deep breaths as the last of the light left the small clearing, Avi finally pulled the gun weakly from his pocket. He knew Kevin had been both bitten and scratched countless times, meaning he only had minutes, if that, before turning.

Avi checked the chamber first, noted that there were only three bullets left. If he used the first on Kevin, he had two more to get back to camp unharmed. It would have to suffice.

He pushed the chamber back into place with shaking fingers, then placed the butt of the gun against his own filthy forehead, murmuring the lords prayer. It was the only way Avi knew to honor Kevin's death. And after Avi had muttered the "amen" he finally pushed the barrel against Kevin's pale forehead.

Except he couldn't pull the trigger before a cool hand grab his shoulder.

Avi let out a short cry in surprise before reflexively turning the gun and shooting the walker that was attempting to tear into him. However the reaction was so fast that he missed the brainstem by a few inches, instead blowing off its jaw. The walker stumbled backward, away from Avi, but not before running its fingernail down the length of his back, tearing deep into the flesh and sending a jolt of agonizing shock up his spine. If Avi had screamed, there would've been no one around to hear it.

Avi recovered quickly though, focusing through the searing pain, and before the walker could advance on him again he pulled the pocketknife from his belt and drove it up into its skull.

But even as the walker collapsed next to him Avi knew it was too late.

Avi couldn't twist into the correct position to get a good look at the wound, but he knew that it ran as long as the length of his spine. There was no way to cut around it, no way to save himself. And Scott and Mitch were too far away.

He would die alone.

Still, Avi remained focused. Instantly he thought about Kirstie, how she'd been scratched yet still managed to remain talking, acting naturally for hours.

There was no point in heading back to camp, though. It was almost pitch black at this point, and finding his way through the forest at night would be near impossible. Instead, he had to focus primarily and exclusively on how he would die.

And he sure as shit wasn't going to die from infection; he'd have to take his own life instead.

Again Avi checked the chamber of his gun, as if he didn't know the amount of bullets left. Unsurprisingly there were two. One for Kevin, one for him.

With a grunt Avi shifted toward Kevin, aiming the gun between his eyes once again. He'd already recited the prayer, and now there was nothing left to say.

The crack of the bullet was alarmingly loud, and Avi rocked backward after the hole had been blown in the center of Kevin's forehead. He would've cried, but at this point he seemed to be physically unable. Maybe it was shock, maybe the effects of infection already draining him.

Avi wouldn't torture himself, wouldn't wait longer than he had to, wouldn't wait until he truly felt himself start turning. All waiting would bring was fear, and Avi was done with fear. He was done with everything. He needed to be done.

So as he laid his back against the nearest tree, he allowed himself to remember the people he loved, the people that would soon be forgotten. He closed his eyes and remembered.

Esther. The sister who'd loved him so deeply. The girl that had been his best friend for as long as he could remember. The girl that had grown to be one of the most incredible women he'd ever known. The woman who'd shown the bravery and strength that convinced Avi to continue.

Aleen. His high-school sweetheart. The woman he'd vowed so many times would be the love of his life. The woman who had remained so optimistic for so long. The woman who could not endure a world as horrible as this. The woman he'd mourned long before she even died.

Rose. His daughter. The light and meaning of his life. The incredible little girl who impacted him in so many amazing ways. The little girl who had made him a father. The little girl who showed him how much he was capable of loving. The little girl who was gone too soon.

Kevin. His best friend. His brother. The man that had continuously gotten him through his worst moments. The man that showed him faith. The man that showed him perseverance. The man who he'd lost one too many times.

Kirstie.

The name alone forced Avi's eyes open, his hand grasping at the note in his pocket. He'd never looked at it, not once. He knew what it said. But now, in his dying moments, he considered that if touching it alone allowed him to remember her better, maybe he should look at it at least once before death consumed him.

Slowly he pulled the paper from his pocket, expecting to see the sloppy curved handwriting that belonged to a man he never knew yet was still envious of. Except the handwriting that he'd seen only once before was struck out with a thick line.

Confusion clouded Avi's thoughts, erasing all pain as he stared at the line. Had it been there before? Perplexed, Avi turned the paper over in his hands as an impulsive motion.

His heart froze.

The side that he'd expected to be completely blank, void of anything, was filled with neat, small handwriting. He recognized the handwriting. It was the same handwriting that had been used to scribble a chart for him back at the prison.

The handwriting belonged to Kirstie.

And the first two words at the top of the paper read "Dearest Avi-".