Doria Falls

by Michael Pierce

  Jeremy grunted. His body twitched like it was trying to bend forward, but the force holding him in midair prevented him from all but the slightest of movements.

  Desiree collapsed to the ground, sobbing uncontrollably.

  I couldn’t move. The tears continued to wash down my face like a steady rain.

  “It’s going to take a little more than that,” Kafka said. “One stab to the abdomen is a hard, long, and painful way to die. You don’t want him in prolonged agony, do you?”

  When Jeremy turned again, Eli stabbed him in the stomach again, then moments later in the right kidney. Blood poured from the three holes around his middle, trickled down his pants, and dripped onto the ground.

  Jeremy cried harder with each wound, but only gurgling escaped his mouth.

  Then Eli stepped back, horrorstruck. “What’s happening?”

  “It looks like our friend is getting some help,” Kafka said. “You’ll just have to try harder.”

  Jeremy’s gurgling lessened and his voice returned.

  “Please,” he pleaded. “Please stop…”

  “You heard him,” Kafka said to Eli. “Make it stop. Take his pain away.”

  Eli’s whole body trembled now, not just his arm holding the screwdriver.

  He stabbed Jeremy again.

  Please God!

  When Jeremy cried out again it sounded like he’d been reduced to a young child, a sound I instantly knew would haunt me forever. I tried to swallow, but there was a stone in my throat that refused to budge. I blinked away tears. I couldn’t lift my arms to wipe them away.

  Eli plunged the thin blade into Jeremy’s scarred flesh two more times—three more times—four more times.

  With each fresh wound, Jeremy looked closer to losing consciousness, and then a moment later, his alertness returned. One second he released gurgling moans, and the next, he was crying and begging for Eli to stop.

  Eli now had tears streaking his face as well. He looked to Kafka.

  “Keep going,” Kafka said.

  “But…but he’s…he’s healing…” Eli stuttered.

  “And he’ll stop healing as soon as he’s dead. So finish him!”

  Eli lost it. He screamed and charged Jeremy like a wild animal, stabbing him over and over, on all sides of his body as he continued to turn on an invisible, vertical spit. Trails of blood arced from each wound as the weapon was pulled back, splashing Eli in the face more times than I wanted to count.

  Panting and sobbing, Eli stepped back, covered in blood, the screwdriver coated with gore at his side. Below Jeremy was a growing pool, dripping crimson over the edge of the bridge.

  Jeremy’s head hung forward and more blood spilled from his mouth.

  “I’m proud of you, Eli,” Kafka said, placing his tattooed hand on the hysterical boy’s shoulder.

  Desiree’s head was in her hands.

  I noticed Jeremy’s head twitch and then his mouth start to move like he was trying to catch his breath.

  He’s still alive!

  I knew he was stronger than he had been letting on. I felt the tiniest pang of hope deep in my stomach.

  Then Kafka noticed it, too. He approached Jeremy and examined his ravaged body closely. He lifted my brother’s chin and then let it go. Jeremy’s chin didn’t fall, but remained upright. I believe I could see his eyes open slightly.

  “What’s that?” Kafka asked, leaning into Jeremy. “You just want this to be over? I agree. That would be best for everyone involved.” Kafka gave Jeremy’s cheek a playful slap and turned to us. “Nicholae, stop healing him. Can’t you see he’s in pain? It’s time to let go and say goodbye.”

  “I’m not,” Nicholae responded.

  I glanced over at him—and then at Mr. Gordon, who lifted his glasses with one hand to dry his eyes with the other. His resolve to do anything he could to protect Jeremy, poured out with his tears. Heartbreak showed all over his face, which crumbled my composure even more.

  Desiree unshielded her face just in time to see the final blow.

  Kafka snatched the screwdriver from Eli and stood tall before Jeremy, whose spinning slowed to a stop so he could face his executioner. Kafka stood in silence for an agonizing amount of time. Jeremy didn’t moan or cry or plead any longer. It was like his inner self had found peace amidst the atrocities his body had been forced to endure.

  Kafka placed his left hand on Jeremy’s corresponding shoulder, a deeply personal and endearing gesture, and then swung the screwdriver with his right. The long, thin blade plunged into Jeremy’s neck, all the way to the handle.

  Not a moment later, Jeremy’s head flopped forward.

  My crying reached an uninhibited level I’d never experienced before, but I didn’t scream out. There was no reason to because Jeremy’s pain was gone. But mine was just beginning.

  Desiree’s sobs were much more audible than my own, but our grief was not equally matched. Witnessing anyone die was a terrible thing. We could both attest to that from seeing a full-grown Kafka in his last throes of life on the observation deck of Lorne Tower. He was our adversary in life, but watching him die erased that label and turned him back into just another human being. Witnessing anyone die was a terrible thing. Witnessing a friend die was absolutely haunting. But Jeremy wasn’t just my friend, he was my brother—my only brother.

  Kafka ripped the blade from Jeremy’s neck, shoved his free hand into what had just moments ago been my brother’s chest, sending his body arcing backward and over the edge of the broken bridge.

  I couldn’t watch him hit the beach and debris below. I couldn’t do anything but cry.

  Oliver Remembers (v)

  Mr. Gordon—before I knew him as Mr. Gordon—had a wooden cabin in a small meadow to the east of the Acanombian Mountains. Nicholae had given him the responsibility of keeping us safe while he was away, and he traveled frequently. Today he’d returned, but not just to visit with his family. We were supposed to be safe here, but it had only been a few short months, and he was here to force us to move again—to flee farther from the castle.

  “Boys, are you packed?” Mom asked as she entered our room. We no longer had the space we’d previously been accustomed to in the castle and I now had to share a room with Jeremy, which wasn’t too bad since I used to spend much of my time in his room anyway.

  “I can’t reach Frolics!” I cried, crouched beside my bed, sweeping an arm underneath.

  Mom knelt down beside me. Under the bed hid my cocker spaniel puppy, behind a wrinkled shirt and a few scattered stuffed animals.

  I stretched my arm to the point of hurting my shoulder, and momentarily brushed his soft fur, but Frolics quickly retracted just beyond my reach.

  After watching me struggle a moment longer, she whistled softly, and the puppy obediently crawled out from under the bed. She scratched him behind the ears and rubbed his neck.

  “We don’t want to lose Frolics, do we?” she asked.

  Jeremy and I shook our heads in unison.

  “Then we need to protect him on this upcoming trip,” she said. “It will be a much bigger adventure than our trip from the castle.” She took Frolics’ small head in her hands and gently kissed the top of it.

  I watched in amazement as he miraculously shrank from a live dog into a raggedy stuffed animal. Jeremy and I stepped back in wonderment as Mom picked up the stuffed animal that was our former dog. This was something I’d never seen done before, and the expression on Jeremy’s face led me to believe that he hadn’t, either.

  “Is he okay, Mother?” Jeremy asked, apprehensively reaching out to touch him.

  “Frolics is just fine,” she said and handed him to me. “You look after him, okay?”

  I ripped the stuffed animal from her hands and placed him delicately in my backpack, which was nearly overflowing with toys and clothes. I zipped up the bag as much as I could while still allowing Frolics’ furry head to peek out.

  Mom ushered us into the front room, despite Jeremy’s protests of nee
ding more time.

  Nicholae and Mr. Gordon were talking, but abruptly stopped their conversation upon our arrival.

  “Are we ready?” Nicholae asked, boasting a huge grin.

  “Where are we going?” Jeremy asked.

  Mom went to stand by Mr. Gordon while Nicholae knelt before us.

  “It’s a surprise,” Nicholae said and winked at me. “And you will be surprised, I promise.”

  Mr. Gordon opened and held the heavy wooden door for everyone to walk through.

  Outside the air was cool and windy, and smelled of grass and rain. Pastel-colored clouds decorated the sky. The modest cabin sat up against the forest, facing a meadow of tall grass. The snowcapped peaks of the Acanombian Mountains rose above the canopy of trees on the far side of the meadow.

  Nicholae led us away from the cabin with Mr. Gordon keeping pace at his right side. Mom urged us to keep up as we fell almost instantly behind. My walk became a trot in order to keep up with the others, and it wasn’t long before I tripped in the tall grass, scraping both knees.

  She rushed back to pick me up, but Jeremy helped me to my feet first. He held my hand and helped me not to stumble again.

  “Never forget to look after each other,” she said.

  “Never!” Jeremy exclaimed.

  “Never ever!” I shouted. The contagious exuberance of my brother caused me to forget about any pain from my skinned knees. They were as good as healed in my opinion.

  We laughed giddily, swung our arms, and trotted together through the meadow.

  15

  Cross

  Nicholae buried Jeremy in the canyon a little ways back from the beach and I assembled a small metal cross from fallen debris.

  Kafka had left with his men soon after throwing Jeremy’s body from the bridge, and we let them go. I didn’t know about the others, but there was no fight left in me in that moment. Kafka had granted us time to grieve, or perhaps he presumed we’d be too far behind to stop him from killing the final guardian. It didn’t matter.

  “I remember the first time I met Jeremy,” Desiree began, “was in the cemetery by our houses. He’d scared us half to death and was so proud of himself. Let’s say we didn’t start out on the right foot. But over time, I saw what a genuine and caring guy he was. I saw him at school and he just had a way with making others laugh, making them feel comfortable, and drawing them in with his true zest for life. He loved people. He loved his family. And he especially loved his brother.”

  I squeezed Desiree’s hand as we all stood around the cross marking Jeremy’s final resting place. I remembered her expressing how much she loathed my brother after the prank in the cemetery. She wasn’t too fond of him attending her Halloween party, either. The memories brought a small smile to my face.

  “I remember Jeremy mostly as a young boy,” Mr. Gordon said. “I wasn’t around him once he entered his teenage years. I stayed at a distance to honor Helen’s wishes to forget about all of this and move on with her life. Jeremy never wanted to forget where he came from and he went to great lengths to preserve that memory and get his family back home. Of course, some of his actions were ill-advised, but his intentions were pure—his heart was in the right place. My primary regret is not getting a chance to know him better in recent years.”

  The group remained quietly pensive for a few minutes after Mr. Gordon’s eulogy.

  Desiree hugged my arm and laid her head on my shoulder. I leaned my head against hers.

  I didn’t know how to sum up my brother’s life in only a few sentences. I didn’t know how to express how I felt. Our relationship over the past school year wasn’t the best barometer. When we were kids, we were as thick as thieves. Jeremy started to become popular in seventh grade, and that drew us apart. But I knew he was still there for me—even considering when he betrayed me, he had spent the last few months of his life trying to make up for it. It suddenly became clear how I wanted to remember him.

  “I remember Jeremy helping me up when I fell down—in so many ways—and so many times,” I said. “Whether he picked me up off the ground when I literally fell or made me laugh when I was down, I could always count on him to pick me up.” I felt the corners of my eyes begin to sting again and then more tears trickled down my cheeks. Nothing else I could think to say sounded right, so I simply ended by saying, “I’ll miss you, big brother.”

  Desiree rubbed my back. There were more tears in her eyes as well.

  We stood through another few minutes of silence.

  “We’ll have to bring Mom here when this is all over,” I said to Nicholae. “She’ll be absolutely devastated when she finds out.” I was glad Richard left when he did and didn’t have to see what happened—handed the burden to inform his wife that her oldest son was dead. It should come from Nicholae and me.

  “We will,” he promised and walked away from the grave.

  Nicholae arranged stones on the beach and built a fire. He balanced a large thin rock across the pit to be heated by the flames and placed a newly manifested pot on top. Mr. Gordon and Colton joined him on the beach, leaving Desiree and me alone with Jeremy.

  “I remember him giving me his favorite shirt one day out of the blue. He hadn’t outgrown it, and he still wore it—not regularly—but he still wore it. It wasn’t any special occasion. It was just a regular Tuesday or something. He came into my room and said he wanted me to have it.”

  My eyes were glued to the cross I’d built. It looked like a little kid’s art project, but it’s all I could do with the resources in the vicinity. I didn’t want help from Mr. Gordon or Nicholae. I wanted to do it myself. I wanted it to be real.

  “I remember crawling into his bed after having a nightmare—one of many Kafka-the-Bogeyman dreams. I must have been about seven. He told me to wait there and went to my room. He was gone for a minute or so, and then I heard the toilet flush. When he came back he told me he’d taken care of Kafka, that he’d dragged him out of my room and flushed him down the toilet. It didn’t rid me of the dreams, but we had a good laugh that night.”

  “You were lucky to have him in your life for as long as you did,” Desiree said. “You’ll preserve his memory by remembering personal anecdotes like that.”

  “Yeah. And there was the time this guy—Aiden something or other—was picking on me at school and Jeremy snuck up behind and pantsed him. Jeremy ran like hell, and Aiden turned to chase him but landed flat on his face. Needless to say, he never bothered me again. Jeremy got a week’s detention, but said it was well worth it.”

  “I love you,” Desiree said. The edges of her eyes were red and still shiny from so many tears she’d shed over the past hour, but the emeralds in them glistened as she gazed passionately up into mine.

  My elation to hear her speak the words was bittersweet with all that had transpired since this morning.

  I smiled wide despite all my grief, so wide it felt like my cheeks would pop. “I love that you said it,” I said.

  “Yeah, I deserve that,” she said. “I knew I loved you when you said it this morning, but I was afraid to say it. Then during the fight, all the little fears became so trivial. I can’t let fear hold me back anymore.”

  “The need to act in spite of fear.”

  “Exactly.”

  “At least I can die happy now,” I said.

  “Don’t say that,” Desiree snapped. “Don’t ever say that.”

  I didn’t feel bad for saying it. If Jeremy had been here in that moment, he would have clapped me on the back and said my boy’s finally learning.

  I am.

  I hooked a hand behind her neck and pulled her in for a kiss. Our bodies turned, drew closer, and connected at every point possible. The vests felt like too much of a barrier between us, but I remembered how her body felt against me with only underwear between us and the feeling sent shivers all through me. With each kiss, I believed we were sharing our entwined life energies back and forth.

  I felt rejuvenated when our lips separated. “I�
�ll have to take you on an actual date when all this is over.”

  “You better,” she said.

  “I guess I’ll have to get my license at some point so I can take you out properly.”

  “Yup.” Her smile was infectious and I lost trying to resist kissing her again. “Oliver Lorne taking me on a proper date. Sounds so traditional. With all of this, can we do traditional?”

  “We’ll make it proper, yet untraditional.” Her still drying hair was pulled back into a ponytail, but a curled lock had fallen out and slipped down the side of her face to just below her chin. I tucked it behind her ear so I could see her naturally beautiful face unencumbered.

  “We’ve got something to look forward to,” she said.

  I took her hand, looked down at the metal cross one more time, and said, “Thank you for everything,” to my brother before turning to join the others by the bonfire.

  Mr. Gordon poured us each a bowl of stew with some type of white meat, an assortment of vegetables, and potato chunks.

  “Daniel can take you both back,” Nicholae said, finishing the stew and setting the empty bowl beside him in the sand. “I’ll proceed with Colton. We’ll meet up with Beta Team and face Kafka again.”

  I looked over at Desiree to see her reaction to Nicholae’s offer. Her eyes showed uncertainty, but I was certain. I could hide out in the new camp, but I couldn’t go home. I wouldn’t be doing Jeremy any kind of justice by hiding.

  “We’re coming with you,” I announced.

  Mr. Gordon sighed. “Are you sure?”

  “I’ve only been surer of one other thing in my life,” I said and glanced over at Desiree.

  Her smile was weak, but it was there.

  “Daniel should at least escort your girlfriend back to the camp,” Nicholae started.

  “Or home,” Mr. Gordon finished.

  With a full mouth of food, Desiree shook her head. She hurried to finish chewing and said, “I’m staying with Oliver.”

  “And next time, we may be burying you,” Nicholae said.