Mars stared at the skeletal hand he held up with dawning horror. His breath came only with difficulty and his heart was pounding in his chest. He felt emaciated, exhausted--drained. He hardly noticed when Sayid emptied the magazine of the pistol into the...pilot.
His lips felt dry and his breath rasped in his throat. Mars touched his face with the clawlike hand. The skin felt like paper mache. His pulse erraticly in his ears. Sayid was kneeling at his side.
Sayid was speaking to him, but Mars had no attention to spare for his words. What could he possibly say that would be of any value anyhow? Mars thrashed as an invisible hand crushed his heart, squeezing pain out through his arteries, radiating outward and down his left arm.
Mars clutched at Sayid's arm, trying to force words past the pain of the heart attack. Then he felt a sensation like a rubber band snapping inside his head and half his body went numb. The hand clutching at Sayid's sleeve went slack and fell away.
(I'm dying,) Mars thought. He wasn't entirely displeased; memories of his grandfather's lingering, humiliating final illness flashed through his mind. Surviving a stroke here on the island would only be worse.
Sayid was leaning over him now, shouting down a long dark tunnel that lengthened as Mars watched. (Don't let me linger,) Mars thought, (put me out of my--
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timeasmymeasure
[Edward Mars] Say goodnight, Gracie....
Date: 2006-09-20 06:04 pm (UTC)His lips felt dry and his breath rasped in his throat. Mars touched his face with the clawlike hand. The skin felt like paper mache. His pulse erraticly in his ears. Sayid was kneeling at his side.
Sayid was speaking to him, but Mars had no attention to spare for his words. What could he possibly say that would be of any value anyhow? Mars thrashed as an invisible hand crushed his heart, squeezing pain out through his arteries, radiating outward and down his left arm.
Mars clutched at Sayid's arm, trying to force words past the pain of the heart attack. Then he felt a sensation like a rubber band snapping inside his head and half his body went numb. The hand clutching at Sayid's sleeve went slack and fell away.
(I'm dying,) Mars thought. He wasn't entirely displeased; memories of his grandfather's lingering, humiliating final illness flashed through his mind. Surviving a stroke here on the island would only be worse.
Sayid was leaning over him now, shouting down a long dark tunnel that lengthened as Mars watched. (Don't let me linger,) Mars thought, (put me out of my--