Falling Ash

by Douglas, A. T.

  It takes a couple of applications of the eye-drops and a few minutes of maintaining deep and calming breaths before I start to look normal again. I force my lips into a smile, trying to pick up where I left off before in my excitement over sharing in my desire with a man and having the opportunity to do whatever I want today.

  With one final deep breath, I turn off the light and leave the bathroom and bedroom, no longer plagued by indecision over today’s planned events as I walk down the darkened hallway and into the dining room. The delicious smell of a vegetable omelet greets me as I enter the kitchen and take a seat at the island. I only wish I had the appetite to fully appreciate it.

  Silas turns and smiles at me from where he’s standing in front of the sink rinsing a plate. “You sure took your time.” He sets the plate in the drying rack and turns off the water before focusing his full attention on me. “You sure you’re okay?”

  I nod in response, fearful that any verbal reply to that loaded question would only lead to a total breakdown.

  “You look nice,” he comments, giving me a once-over as he dries his hands with a towel from the counter.

  “I wanted to look presentable,” I respond truthfully. He’ll see through any lie I tell him, so I have to stick with truths.

  Silas moves to the stove and uncovers a frying pan with half of an omelet inside. He tips the pan over a plate on the counter to serve the remaining breakfast. After sprinkling some salt and pepper on it, he grabs a fork from the drawer and delivers the plate to the island counter in front of me.

  “Did you decide what you want to do today?” he asks curiously as he takes a seat next to me at the island.

  “Yes.” I grab the fork and poke at the eggs, working up the appetite to actually eat them. “I’d like to do some close-range shooting today.”

  Silas leans his elbows forward on the counter and turns his head to laugh at me. “I offer to do whatever it is in the entire world you want to do, and you choose more training?”

  I shrug off his remark as best I can. “It’s a skill I need to have.”

  A contemplative look overtakes his expression as he seems to consider my request. He still manages to watch me expectantly, though, making good on his commitment to ensure I eat enough to help me get back to a healthy weight. When I finally begin to force the eggs into my mouth, his gaze softens a bit.

  “Okay,” he agrees, “I’ll teach you handguns today.” He gets up from the chair and stands right behind me, running his fingers through my strands of damp hair before leaning down to kiss the top of my head. My eyes close involuntarily for a moment at his touch and the affection as he whispers, “I’ll go get ready.” With one final kiss on my head, he lets go of me to exit through the doorway to the dining room.

  24

  I hate that I miss Silas when he’s gone from the room. It’s all the more justification for why I need to remove myself from this twisted partnership or relationship that never should have existed.

  Reluctantly I finish every last bite of eggs, keeping the fork in my hand and purposefully not washing my plate in the sink yet so that Silas can see that I’ve done what he wanted me to do: eat the breakfast he has provided. It takes only a few minutes after I’ve finished eating before I hear the sound of approaching footsteps from down the hall and weighty objects being placed on the dining room table.

  Silas comes into the kitchen and immediately looks to my plate. I set the fork down on it as if I’ve just finished and then glance up to see a satisfied look on his face.

  “We can wait a bit for breakfast to settle before we start,” he suggests as he takes my plate and fork to the sink to wash them for me.

  My heart races at the thought of deciding whether or not to delay my demise. I quickly conclude that sooner is better. “I’m ready now. We don’t have to wait.”

  I think about my words for a long moment as I vaguely hear Silas talking about the best place to do this training outside. Am I really ready to do this? At least I’ll be reunited with my family in death. There’s nothing left for me in the world of the living except a developing relationship with the sadistic man who tricked me and tortured me and killed my brother.

  Yes. It’s time.

  I’m unsure of what Silas has been saying, but I see that he’s finished at the sink and just watching me expectantly now.

  “What are you thinking about over there?” he asks as he crosses his arms over his chest. I’d be worried about his question if not for the playful gleam in his eye that tells me he thinks I’m daydreaming about being intimate with him.

  I embrace that thought but decide to remain truthful in my answer to ensure he believes me. “Just thinking about what’s going to happen later.”

  With a devilish grin, Silas walks toward me and offers his hand to help me down from the barstool. “Well, the faster we get through this training, the sooner we can get to what’s coming next.”

  “Agreed.” I take his hand and jump down, willing my arm not to tremble as I’m being led outside through the door in the kitchen for the last time. Silas leaves me at the stone patio behind the garage in the warm and beautiful sunshine as he goes back inside to grab the gear he left in the dining room. I close my eyes and enjoy the combination of the heat of the sun and the cooling breeze simultaneously touching my skin.

  I’m forced to open my eyes and face reality as Silas returns with two handguns and the army green metal box of ammo. He places the deadly objects on the wrought iron table on the patio and motions for me to sit down in one of the matching chairs as he takes up the one right next to it.

  My heart thumps loudly inside my chest as I evaluate the tools of my destruction sitting idly on the table. One is all black and slightly smaller than the other, which is brushed silver with an intricately carved wooden piece on each side of the handgrip. I grab for the smaller one even though my goal is to use the larger one.

  “That’s the .22 caliber, same as the rifle you used,” Silas explains as he watches me carefully inspect the weapon.

  It feels heavy like it’s already loaded, but I can’t tell for sure. I look for the button to release the magazine to check, but Silas reaches over to point it out before I can find it and says, “I already filled the magazines. They’re all set and ready to go.”

  I push the button and the magazine drops out, confirming that it’s full of bullets, just as Silas indicated. Clicking it back into place, I locate the switch for the safety next and briefly look at the larger gun on the table to find its safety, too.

  “The entire top of the gun is the slide to pull for chambering the round,” Silas advises, and I follow his instructions and manage a good enough grip with my challenged left hand to pull the slide all the way back then release it. “For hand position, you’ll want to—”

  “Can you show me?” I interject as I offer the gun to him, somehow managing to keep both my hand and voice steady despite the adrenaline and fear and sorrow working their way through me all at once.

  Silas takes the gun in his right hand, pointing it down at the stone patio floor before bringing his other hand in to support his grip and raising it up to a firing position pointing toward the back wall of the property.

  The moment he looks down the sight and starts talking to explain what he’s doing, I grab for the larger handgun on the table, securing my grip and flicking off the safety all in the same motion. As I’m bringing the gun up to the side of my head, I pull the slide back with my left hand and release it. I jab the smooth tip of the gun to my temple just as Silas turns around and realizes what I’m doing, and without hesitation I pull the trigger.

  There’s no loud bang, no instant darkness. There’s only a single clicking sound. I pull the trigger again and again, panicking as all I get is click, click, click. My hand trembles violently as I slowly lower the useless weapon from my head and let it fall to the stone floor.

  When my crazed eyes meet Silas’ gaze, he lowers the other gun and dips his head, squeezing his eyes shut as
both anger and disappointment flood his features. By the time he opens his eyes and looks at me again, the version of Silas who comforted me and protected me and made me feel safe is completely gone and replaced by the feral, unfeeling monster I remember from my first days under Silas’ control.

  “I had such high hopes for you,” he growls under his breath as he stands up from the chair to tower over me like he has so many times before. “I thought we had finally achieved something here together, completed our partnership.” He grabs me by the hair and yanks me up to him as I cry out from the sharp pain at my scalp. “I guess you really are of no use to me after all.”

  He lets go of my hair to grip my wrist instead, dragging me along behind him as he storms up the path between the house and the garage. I try to pull away, but I can’t break free, forced to stumble behind him as he follows the stone path around the front of the house past the front door.

  When he turns into the grass, my entire being goes into full panic mode as I realize exactly where he’s taking me.

  “I can’t,” I cry out between screams as I double my efforts to escape his grasp. “I can’t go there. Silas! Please!”

  The manmade mound of dirt comes into view, and he throws me toward it, my body crashing to the ground within feet of the wooden cross at the top of the grave. I try to scoot away from it, desperate to put as much distance as possible between me and the remains of my brother as I can’t handle trying to deal with my emotions regarding his death right now. Silas grabs the back of my tank top as I’m trying to crawl away, dragging me back toward the grave until I’m dropped on top of it, my body scraping into the mound of dirt.

  Being forced to physically wreck the gravesite is all that it takes to eliminate the fight in my body as I lose it completely and break down in heavy sobs. I dig my fingers into the dirt, gripping it as if clinging to some part of my brother, all while tears pour from my eyes onto his final resting place.

  I squeeze my eyes shut as I hear Silas’ quickened footsteps approaching from nearby, unaware that he had even left until now. He makes his presence known again as something metal hits the grass within feet of my head. He yanks me up from the mound of dirt by my upper arm, causing my eyes to shoot open in fear.

  “You want to die?” he snarls into my ear as he pulls me roughly against him. “You want to join your brother beneath this ground?” A muffled sob escapes me as Silas thrusts the handle of a shovel into my hand. “Then dig,” he demands.

  “Silas, please,” I beg in a pained whisper, trying desperately to cling to his chest with my free hand, but he only throws me back down to the mound of dirt again.

  The emotional impact of crashing into the makeshift grave is different this time. It helps me realize I deserve every bit of this for what I’ve done. I belong here discarded in the ground with the brother I failed. My endless fall will finally hit bottom right here in this grave and then the pain and fear and brokenness will all go away.

  Maybe I’ll finally find some peace.

  Sobs continue to rack my chest as I force the shovel into the dirt and move the clumps of earth to the side, struggling to get an effective grip on the handle with my left hand. The sobs eventually turn to cries of anguish as I repeat the process over and over again to dig up my brother’s grave, the grave that will soon become my own. Sweat and tears pour down my face and body as I fight through every painful movement of the shovel into and out of the ground to widen the grave and dig deeper into the earth until I’m many feet into the ground surrounded by walls of dirt.

  The tip of the shovel finally hits something solid, but doesn’t clink against it like I’ve become accustomed to hearing when the shovel hits a rock. I lift the shovel and push it down to hear the sound again, and when I realize I’m hitting wood, my insides instantly feel hollow. My heart clenches painfully as I remove the final layer of dirt from the makeshift coffin, barely able to push through at this point because of the heat and exhaustion and emotional trauma I’ve just endured.

  Using what little strength and energy I have left, I launch the shovel out of the grave I’ve just dug up in a final burst of anguish before collapsing to my hands and knees against the wooden lid of the coffin and breaking down into uncontrollable sobs once more.

  Some of my tears are happy, though. I like feeling this close to Jake again. Only weeks have passed since we were together, but it seems like much longer than that. It feels like ages since I’ve seen his smiling face. He won’t be smiling now; I might not even recognize him. Silas could even decide not to let me see Jake at all before he ends my life and buries me beneath the dirt I just painstakingly dug up for hours. Maybe it’s better that way, so in these final moments I can remember Jake as he was before instead of as the lifeless body hidden away inside this box.

  It’s only now that I notice the smell. The makeshift coffin doesn’t hold it in completely. The horrifying stench of rotting flesh fills my nostrils, causing me to scream and scramble back up to a standing position as I back up against the dirt wall behind me.

  I can’t see Jake like this. There’s no way I can stomach it.

  I can’t live with this anymore.

  “Just do it!” I scream at Silas. “Fucking get it over with. Kill me!”

  Silas looks down at me, but his expression remains unchanged at my desperate pleas for a resolution to this sick exercise. He disappears from view for a moment and returns with the shovel I threw out of the grave. I begin to panic at the thought of being buried alive when suddenly Silas jumps down into the open grave with me, landing on a small flat area of dirt next to one of the hinges of the coffin.

  I cower as he steps toward me with the shovel, but he turns to the middle of the coffin instead. He jabs the tip of the shovel into the small crack where the lid of the coffin meets the side and he pushes the shovel downward in an attempt to pry the box open.

  “Leave him alone!” I cry out as I lunge at Silas, clawing at his arms to disrupt his use of the shovel, but he swings a hand back and knocks me on my ass. I watch helplessly as the nails sealing the lid of the coffin break free. Then the right side of the lid is loosened completely, and the smell of decay becomes even stronger.

  Silas grabs me by the shirt and pulls me back toward the other side of the coffin before dropping both me and shovel to the ground. My breathing comes to a halt as I struggle to my feet and watch Silas slowly open the lid.

  I look at the rotting corpse inside only long enough to determine it’s not Jake. It’s not even human; it’s the carcass of a deer.

  “What kind of sick game is this?” I seethe with crazed rage and confusion at Silas as he pushes the lid closed again. I turn and slam my fist against his chest as I demand, “Where the hell is my brother?”

  “He’s alive,” Silas responds in an even tone, “but he’s far away from here.”

  Tears of relief spill from my eyes, but they do nothing to extinguish the fiery rage I feel toward Silas right now. “It’s been nothing but tricks and lies from you. Why should I believe a word you’re saying?”

  “Because I have this.”

  Silas reaches in the back pocket of his jeans and pulls out a small square piece of paper. It’s not clear to me what it is until he extends it to me.

  “Oh my God,” I cry out as I snatch it from him while being careful not to damage it or harm it in any way. I cover my mouth with my free hand as torrential tears pour from my eyes caused by the picture of my family: Mom and Dad sitting and grasping each other’s hands in front, Jake and I standing up and forcing smiles behind them. It’s from our church directory back home in Rochester. The Nolan Family, it says across the bottom, followed by Linette, John, Ashleigh, and Jacob.

  “How did you get this?” I ask, my voice cracking slightly.

  “Ash, I promise I’ll explain everything, but please let me get you out of this hole first.”

  I don’t respond to his suggestion and instead keep my focus on the picture in my hand as Silas jumps up and climbs out of the hole.
He kneels at the edge and lowers his hands down for me, and I reluctantly tear my gaze away from the picture and reach for him. He pulls me up above ground to what feels like an entirely different world to me now.

  “Why don’t I take you inside?” Silas offers. “Get you some water and let you—”

  “No,” I declare, even though I’m clearly dehydrated. I take a seat on the grass nearby. “I need to know how you got this picture. I need to know about Jake.”

  Silas settles down on the grass, keeping some distance from me and where I’m sitting. “The picture is from your hometown. Jake and Joseph went there.”

  “What do you mean? Why was Jake with Joseph?”

  Silas’ expression turns uneasy, and he seems reluctant in his answer as he explains, “Joseph took Jake away for me. Everything else I told you about why I got rid of your brother was true. I couldn’t have him anywhere near here because I knew he’d be a distraction for you, but I had no reason to kill him, so I sent him away instead.”

  “Where?” Silas avoids my gaze and doesn’t respond, so I physically scoot closer to him until I’m directly in front of him, staring him down as I press further. “Where is he, Silas?”

  “There’s a place in Ohio run by a friend of mine,” he finally answers, “a safe community with high walls and amicable people who work together to live in peace and provide for the group instead of acting out of greed and tearing each other apart. It’s the perfect place for Jake to start a new life. He can have a good future there.”

  “But I won’t be there for him. He won’t have any family.” My breath catches, and my eyes go wide. “Did they find my parents in Rochester? Are they alive?”