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Summary
His blood dried on her hands, it flakes off when her palms sweat around the wooden handle of the shovel. The ground is shifty underneath her, it isn’t the time now to be doing this. Then again, Kate wonders if there will ever be a good time to bury her only friend that was left. Five shovel fulls later, she’s using the last of her muscle strength to heave him into the shallow grave. There’s a small thudding in the distance and every vibration sets her heart on fire. She pushes the dirt over him with the shovel, as fast as she can. He deserves better, deserves to be either buried with a marble headstone or preferably, alive right here beside her. The world is no longer what it was, and all Kate can do as the final shove of dirt covers his face, is grip the shovel tight as she runs.
All that’s left now is her wits, and God help her if she loses that too.