She stood up, bracing her hands against her aching back. She raised a curious eyebrow as she glanced down at her bump and smiled. "Well, you're stuck with us now." That was the first time she had referred to them as ‘us.’ It was the first time they had officially felt like a family.
"I hope so," David replied, looking up into her eyes with a soft smile. For once, he didn't have to think of the right thing to say. It just came out of his mouth. "I'm not letting you go again.”
David closed his eyes as one of the faceless shoulders forced him onto a bench, shackling his wrists through a chain secured to the floor. He bit down on his tongue, forcing himself to keep his eyes glued to the gray metal wall in front of him.
A British soldier jumped into the back of the wagon, slamming the thick metal door behind him. He sat down on the bench, his musket clenched at the ready in front of him. His eyes scanned the faces around him as the wagon rumbled back into the city.
"I'll ask you again, where's the insurgent hideout?”
"You have the wrong guy," David replied, opening his eyes. His speech was slurred by the blood pooling from his mouth. He laid his head against the back of his chair. His wrists were shackled tightly behind him, the rough iron chaffing his skin. Through his haze, he looked around the cavernous room. The walls looked to be thick stone, the only natural light trickled in from a tiny skylight high on the ceiling. "I'm an American sailor. Why would I get involved in your war? I don't care!”
His head snapped back as a viscous right hook slammed against his temple. David heard something crunch deep inside of his jaw. "Go to hell!" David said, spitting a mouthful of blood onto the floor, as searing pain shot through his dislocated jaw. His sinuses throbbed.
The officer pacing in front of him was young, barely in his twenties. He had the bookish looks of someone promoted right out of university. His accent was thick as he spoke again, placing himself squarely in David's line of sight. "We have witnesses who've placed you deep within the separatist movement operating out of Dublin. We know you're a part of that group, and have direct ties to very important members of the leadership. Don't fuckin' lie to me on this." He spoke slowly, making sure David was understanding the words coming from his mouth.
David closed his eyes, the black stone walls of the room were starting to spin around him. He could feel blood pooling deep inside of his mouth, as he spit out the shattered remnants of one of his molars.
The sounds of the city bled in from below them, sounding distant and sad. However, the sound was still agonizingly close, making him painfully aware of the life which continued outside the walls of the prison. "I'm not lying.”
The soldier pulled out his side arm and in what seemed like a lightening fast movement, fired a single shot, hitting David squarely in the kneecap.
Crying out as the agonizing pain shot through every synapse he had. David weakly tugged at his bound wrists in an attempt to get himself free. His body contorted in an unconscious effort to grab his shattered knee. "Fuck!" He rested his head against the back of the chair, his teeth grinding together in his head as he struggled with all his self-control to breath through the pain overwhelming his body.
David pulled Jessica tightly to his body as they stared over the roof of their apartment building overlooking the East River. He looked down at her, a smile spreading over his lips at the sight of her happy, "I love you, baby." He ran his fingers through the thick curls in her hair.
Her laugh was sparkling, "I love you, David." She wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him, passionately. Her lips felt full and warm, it was like she was standing right in front of him.
She pulled back and bent down over the carriage and picked up the baby, who was completely swaddled in a soft pink blanket. Jessica had knitted it herself for months before the baby was born. She looked up at him, smiling brightly.
"She has your nose," Jessica said, sliding the heavy, squirming little bundle into his arms gently. She ran her fingers through the baby's downy blonde hair, and looked up at him. "She's yours, through and through.”
"You're a lot tougher than I gave you credit for." Jessica's voice bled into the thick accent of the soldier. He pulled a switchblade out of his utility belt. He passed the highly polished blade quickly between his fingers. "If you won't tell us where the hideout is, how about the names of the men you've been answering too?”
"What the hell do you think I am?" David asked, spitting another mouthful of blood, narrowly missing the guard's highly polished boots. He paused between each word, his voice barely above an exhausted whisper. His mouth refilled with blood after each word. He blinked. Colored spots were lazily dancing through his vision. It was a struggle to remain conscious. He could feel his head sagging. He closed his eyes, willing himself to loose consciousness, the memories were far more pleasant than reality. As he continued, he felt like he was talking with a mouthful of marbles. "You want me to fuckin' talk, you've got another thing coming.”
"You're positively dripping with New York." He circled the chair, David kept his eyes glued in front of him. "I can completely see why everyone says what they do about you Americans. Plucky.”
David grunted as the soldier grabbed a handful of his hair, pulling his face back to meet his.
David sucked in a sharp intake of breath as the soldier brushed the switchblade against his throbbing jugular. Every muscle in his body clenched instinctively at the feeling of the cold steel brushing against the sensitive skin of his neck. He clenched his fingers against the arms of the chair.
"Just do it." David spoke through gritted teeth, unable to shift from the tight grasp, which kept his neck jarred back at an uncomfortable angle. He closed his eyes, blood was gushing down his leg, soaking his pants. Sharp pain emanated from the gunshot wound. He coughed, spitting out another mouthful of blood. "You'd be doing me a fucking favor." The words came out sounding like a harsh chuckle, blood pooled from his mouth, staining his white shirt.
As he looked up from the chair, his right eye had already swollen shut. The sight out of the left was fuzzy. He squinted unconsciously, trying to correct the blurry vision in front of him.
The soldier stood up, pulling the knife away from his neck. There was the slightest hint of defeat in his body language as he pushed the switchblade back inside the holster of his boot. "I can tell.”
Jessica looked over at him, she was crouched in the Long Island sand as Thomas dug himself a hole with a spade a few feet from the water. She was wearing a long, flowing deep brown skirt which spread out around her on the beach. Her dark brown hair flowed loosely down on her shoulders. There was a look of extreme focus on Thomas' face. A smile spread across her face as she looked down at their daughter, who was spread out in the sand on her blanket next to her brother.
The waves were rolling higher onto the beach, some dark and ominous clouds were over the Atlantic, and threatening to make landfall.
David's head snapped backwards as another punch connected with his eye socket. A crunch echoed somewhere in his face. His right eye had swollen completely shut already. He spit out another mouthful of blood. He felt his sinuses rattle with each breath.
"Mr. Freeman," the soldier said. He changed his tone and his tactic. He spoke clearly, making sure every word was understood. He dropped down to one knee, he spoke slowly as he looked into David's eyes. "If you just give us the answers we need, this all can stop. If you answer our questions, this will all be over." He stopped for a moment, he looked up towards the window above their heads. He let out an exhausted sigh as he continued. "Our problem isn't with you. We have much bigger, homegrown problems.”
David threw his head back against the back of the chair, the combination of the gunshot to his knee and the damage to his face overloaded his body. Every breath was a struggle, and he could barely think straight from the pain. "I can't do this," he whimpered. His words were slurred almost beyond comprehension. Both eyes were swollen shut, blood poured down his face. He spit another mouthful of blood onto t
he floor, one of his teeth came with it. "I can't do it.”
"I swear, just tell us what we need and it'll stop." The soldier paced around the room, thinking carefully through his words. He looked back at David, he took off his glassed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He looked up at the window above their heads as he continued, "Truthfully, you aren't important to us. I just want to know who is giving the orders. That’s all.”
"I missed you, baby" David said, looking across the empty room. Jessica was still bent over the baby pink basinet, cooing quietly over the new baby who was swaddled securely. David could see boxes of their belongings waiting to be unloaded in the quaint apartment.
She looked up, smiling brightly at him as she picked the baby up from the basinet and hugged her tightly to her chest. Her heels clacked quietly on the tile floor as she walked across the room towards him. Her infectious laugh rang out in his ears as stopped in front of him, she reached out and grabbed him arms at the elbow. "I just saw you this morning, silly.”
"It's been too long," David replied. He moved across the room, enveloping her body into his arms, the smell of her perfume fresh in his nose. "Much, much too long." His voice cracked slightly as he continued and looked up into her eyes.
Jessica wrapped her arms around his neck, and sighed softly as he kissed her once again. She looked up at him, smiling. "I love you, sweetie.”
David stood up, running his fingers down her soft cheeks. "I love you so much."
END
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Drowning in the East River Page 20
