EVE
They had walked for hours. The journey was taking it's toll on Peyton's weary, mortal body. She was struggling to keep her feet moving. She dragged Darius' shoes over the ground, sending small stones and pebbles in all directions as she scuffed the toes with every step. Her eyes were growing unfocussed, her vision blurry and faded. All she wanted to do was lie down and sleep. To bury her face in the stones and stay there forever. Her breathing was weak and ragged, like she had punctured a lung and simply breathing caused her pain.
Peyton suddenly fell to her knees. Darius stopped moving forward and hurried to her side. "Peyton," he said as he knelt beside her. "Peyton, what is it?"
Peyton was unresponsive. She stared into the horizon at the Beacon, but wasn't really looking at it. Her forehead was damp with perspiration. Darius gently held her chin and turned her face to his. He was immediately sick with worry when he looked into her eyes. They were glassy and blank, as though the life was all but gone from them.
"Peyton, please," he begged. "You need to keep moving."
"I can't," Peyton whispered. "Just leave me. Leave me here to die."
"No, Peyton. That's not what you want."
"Yes it is!" she cried.
Darius shook his head, holding the sides of her face now in both of his hands. "It's the Wasteland talking. It's not good for you. Living people aren't meant to be here and it's affecting your mind. Your soul is giving up."
"Then let it," Peyton begged. "Just let it be over. This is all too much. Reapers and monsters and Purgatory and Eve... Yesterday, this was all myth. Now it's in my face." She clutched desperately at Darius' hands, still holding her cheeks. "Kill me."
Darius slapped her. "Peyton, I'm so sorry for that. And for bringing you here. But we need to keep moving. You need to move."
Peyton wasn't listening. She was beginning to cry, tears running down her face as she sobbed silently. She threw her arms around Darius’ waist and held him close. Darius hugged her back, regretting his decision to bring her to Purgatory, no matter how much Eve would be able to help. Darius then felt Peyton’s hands groping around his back, feeling for something. Suddenly, Peyton shoved Darius back, pushing hard into his chest with one hand. He fell backwards and looked up at Peyton as she clutched his curved blade in one hand, holding it triumphantly. Knocked off balance when she pushed Darius, she fell onto her back, clutching the knife as though it was the Holy Grail. Then she went to plunge it into her throat.
Darius, diving forward from the rocky ground, managed to catch her wrist before she could slice open her throat. Ignoring her cries of protest, Darius wrenched the blade from her fingers and replaced it in his sheathe. Peyton stared at Darius miserably, then, having spent all of her remaining energy, she collapsed, closed her eyes, and did not move.
"Peyton?" Darius said. She didn't answer. Darius shook her shoulder and said her name again, the sickening worry crashing down on him again. "Peyton!"
Peyton still would not respond. Fearful, Darius pressed his fingers against her neck, feeling for her pulse. When he found it, it was weak and erratic. He knew she wouldn't last much longer.
As he was struck with a fear he had never known, a fear that cut so deep it reached parts of himself he didn't know still existed, Darius hoisted Peyton onto his shoulders, climbed back to his feet, and ran.