Disclaimer: They aren't mine, not making money, Mr. Whedon is God.
This spoils most of Graduation Day 1/2
Thanks to Republica for the background noise

Fragments

by Ana Lyssie Cotton

The knife slid into her belly and she gasped. There wasn't pain--not yet. Faith blinked in shock. {She did it. She really--} "I didn't think you had the guts, B."

Buffy didn't answer just stared, something fading in her eyes.

Faith hissed softly, the pain starting to announce itself. "You did it, though." She glanced over her shoulder and started carefully climbing the wall around the edge of the roof. "You killed me."

Glancing over she noted the truck making it's way through the alley. Soon. "Still won't help your boy, though." She noted turning back to the stunned blonde. "Shoulda been there, B. It was quite a ride."

The truck was nearly there. Smiling, Faith stepped backwards, feeling herself fall for eternity before slamming into the truckbed. Blackness came swiftly and mercifully.


Morris Brown frowned and checked the rear-view mirror. He'd heard a thump from the back of his truck. Seeing nothing, he shrugged, "Musta been the boxes settlin'."

He'd been hearing strange noises from the back for the last few miles, anyway--the boxes weren't tied down by any means. He sighed, this town was like any other he'd driven through. Quiet and boring. Glancing at the gas gauge he sighed even louder. "Great. Needta get more gas."

He glanced at the map on the seat and then around him. He needed a Main Street. Somewhere they'd have--Ah. There it was. A few turns and blocks later and he was pulling into what appeared to be the only place open after nine. "Hope they've got good gas. Most likely not," he muttered under his breath as he exited the cab and turned to the back.

Pulling open the little door, he reached in and unscrewed the gascap then shoved the hoze in and clicked it on. Setting it to fill automatically, he turned to the back of the truck to attempt to tie down the boxes more. His mouth dropped open. "Ohmigod."

Morris pulled himself into the back of the truck and dropped to his knees next to the body of the young girl. "Ohmigod." He wavered, his hands twitching, fidgeting, trying to decide what to do. "Hospital."

"Need to get ta a hospital," he mumbled as he hopped off the truck and ran into the gas station, pumping gas forgotten.

"Hey! I need a hospital, quick--there's a girl--I don't know how she got there!" Morris was waving his arms and gesturing like a lunatic. The attendant nodded laconically at him.

"If you just pay your gas bill and go right down that street there, and then turn left," the calm attendant gave him directions, then made him repeat them. Morris did, then paid the man, and ran back out to his truck.

"Hospital, right there, left, there." Morris muttered under his breath as he stepped up to the cab, then climbed in. Shaking his head, he started the truck and pulled out.

"I'm forgetting something...hospital."

The attendant looked out the window and yelped in disbelief as Morris drove off with the hose still attatched to his tank. It fell out quickly, spraying the street with gas. David sighed and went out to deal with it, muttering under his breath about the seriously screwed-up guy that had just come through.

Morris drove fast and rather crazily, the tires screeching as he went around one curve. He'd wanted excitement. He had it. A dead girl, maybe not dead, in the back of his truck. He found himself suddenly at a hospital and drove around to the emergency room.

Jumping out of the truck he glanced wildly around and then ran between the double-sliding glass doors, "Help me! There's a girl--in the back of my truck--I, I don't know how she got there, don't know--"

And the well-trained staff of the Sunnydale Medical Center jumped up and did their jobs.

-

End

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© 1999 Ana Lyssie Cotton.