Rosie lay on the ground before him. Red blood seeped from the corner of her mouth, unseeing eyes turned towards him.
Alex had never seen the dead before. He knelt by his friend and shook her, attempting to wake her. He was confused when he felt that her skin was cold and saw that her eyes were not blinking.
Cear stood behind him, watching the poor boy as he spoke what little English he knew, "Ro-sie. Ro-sie," His syllables were broken by his gasping sobs as he realized that Rosie would never awaken. The only one in this cruel world who was like him, and she was gone.
A slender pale blue hand slid onto his shoulder. Alex looked back to see Anevia.
"Come Alex. We must continue onward."
Alex laid Rosie's head gently upon the earth, shutting her eyes with his hand. The boy rose to his feet, a look of determination on his face.
"Goodbye Rosie," He murmured, glancing down at Rosie's body for a fraction of a second before chasing after the figures of the two aliens in the distance.
He, Anevia, and Cear continued on, long into the night. A lone crow watched them depart from his roost in the top of a dead tree. The same bird witnessed a girl approach Rosie Grace's body. A girl wearing black, a pistol at her hip.
The crow cawed loudly, taking off in a flurry of feathers, black as ink against the moon lit sky.
Dark brown eyes watched it soar off.
"Wherever you are Alex, I will find you,"
Her whispers were lost on the wind.