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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
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The Flamekeepers of Delta Psi Theta - 6. The Night on the Mountaintop

Nothing risked, nothing gained. Time for the boys to learn to work together.
CW/TW: Child abuse and abandonment

The van made a hard turn onto a gravel road. The transition from somewhat smooth pavement to unpaved road jostled all pledges in the back. Without being able to see the road, it was hard to brace for the bumps and dips. We knocked into each other at an increasing rate as the road got less and less smooth. My shoulder got jammed into a gap where the seat could fold down.

“I don't want you to see where I'm fucking taking you,” my dad said from the front seat, “don't want you finding a way back, you fucking freak.”

I was laid lengthwise across the backseat, my head in what smelled like old pillowcases. My wrists held together with duct tape so that I couldn’t hit back. I was helpless, just like after the house fire when my dad took me to live with him. The longer I lived with him, the more helpless I felt. I hated feeling helpless.

“This is fun,” Logan said from somewhere in front of me.

There weren’t seatbelts for us in the back row, and we were starting to bounce violently as we ended up on rougher trails. I could hear the back bumper scrape more than once as all of us were tossed around like rag dolls.

Being forced to lie down in the backseat of that old car meant every single bump and jostle drove directly into my shoulders. My head had no support, so I wiggled and writhed to try and stop those bumps from hurting my bruised body.

“Just like your mother, a freak. But unlike your mother, not even good to dump a load in.” He muttered from the front seat.

I hated him. To think I shared half my genetics with this fucking creature driving the car was almost sickening. I wanted to talk back, I wanted to say what I actually thought of him, but I bit my tongue. Fear was all he had. He never even tried respect. For him, I was something he never wanted, and my attitude only made his hate of me worse. For me, he was everything my mother and Anton tried not to be; what I wouldn't give to hear their laughs around the dinner table again.

A large bump drove me from the seat and my head into the door. All of us were getting less and less secure in our positions. With our hands bound behind us, there was no holding on. It was a shit show, an absolute shit show. I squeezed my eyelids together to feel something without any visual input. I hated this feeling.

We stopped, and my dad got out without turning off the car. He opened the door by my feet and dragged me out, letting me drop from the seat to the hard asphalt below. He kicked me twice in the ribs while I lay there dazed before roughly pulling off the duct tape that bound my wrists. I took my chance and swung where I thought he would be.

“Still got some fight in you. Well, maybe you aren't a total waste of my genes. Won't matter; after today, you won’t ever find me again.”

Through the bumps and jostles, we had all lost our seats; I was on the floor between the 3rd and 4th rows of the van when the door at my feet opened, and my legs were pulled out of the van. They stopped pulling me when my upper body was free enough that I could stand on my own. A water bottle was forced into my hands as the zip ties were cut, unbinding us.

“Drink”

He grabbed my arms in front of me and taped them together again. He walked me to what felt like a picnic table and forced me to sit. He then bound my upper arms to my sides across my chest along with some paper folder with duct tape. My legs were then taped to the bench, leaving me locked in place.

My dad spat the last words he would ever say to me, “good luck, you fucking fairy. Little fucking faggot, just waiting for a flame big enough to burn. Will be a miracle if you survive the night.”

I couldn’t even see the stars.

I cracked the top, moved the opening between the bag and my mouth, and tilted back, feeling the thin plastic crinkle and collapse from me sucking down the water. I needed it. I was absolutely terrified of what was to come. Not necessarily because I couldn’t face whatever task was ahead of us, but I wasn’t Issac Novotny, USMC, supposed war hero right now. In my head, I was just a kid abandoned at a closed rest area on the interstate.

“Tonight, you depend on each other. Your individual skills must find ways to mesh, or you may not make it to sunrise. Trust each other, listen to each other, and tonight might even be fun. Have faith in each other, and you will always come home.” Tyler said from behind me.

I was sprayed with something cold. It smelled like bug repellant. From the sound of it, all of us were getting bathed in it. We heard the doors to the van close and the crunching of tires on gravel as it moved back down the road. I felt the bag pull away from my head and opened my eyes. Nothing. I relaxed my eyelids and opened my eyes; I still couldn’t see.

“What the fuck is this?” I heard yelled as car doors slammed closed.

I could barely hear two sets of feet running up the pavement to where I was. I was so cold. My body was trembling as the tape kept me from properly shivering. The bag was pulled from my head, and my eyes were blinded by the bright yellow and orange of the men's reflective vests.

“It's okay kid, just stay still,” they told me as the cold steel of a knife worked into the tape joints. Their careful motions ensured the blade's sharp end was faced away from me.

“Guys, is the bag off my head?” I asked.

“Novo, quit joking around. We have to figure this out,” Declan said back to me.

“I'm serious, guys. Is the bag off my head?” I asked again, fear creeping into my voice.

“Wait, hold on, what’s wrong, Novo,” Kevin said, hearing the change in my tone.

“I can’t see,” I said plainly.

“Fuck me. Can it get any better?” Travis yelled, clearly frustrated.

“Later, sweetie, we have to figure this out first. Kevin, you found the envelope. What’s it say?” Logan asked.

“Easy,” I heard Jer say near Travis as Kevin cracked the seal.

“It looks like just a map,” Kevin said, confused.

“A map, let me see,” Logan said, sounding like he grabbed the note, “it's a blank sheet of paper, you walnut.”

“You fuckin meathead, it's a map; there’s the compass and the line and everything,” Kevin yelled back.

The pledges descended into a shouting match with each other while I sat down on the ground, feeling defeated before we even started.

“You got a name, kid,” the man with the knife said, folding it back into the hilt.

I just shook my head. I could barely breathe, much less speak. It didn’t help that I didn’t want a name, especially if it connected me to HIM. That fucking beast who left me here. I wanted to be with my mom and Anton, with my family. I should have stayed with them while the house burned.

“Shut the fuck up, and I mean everyone,” I yelled from the ground, the old NCO voice coming out strong.

The boys quieted down. When I stopped hearing shuffling feet, I knew it was time.

“We can’t do this. We can’t be at each other's throats. We are alone up here. Before we got here, my eyes worked just fine, and so did everyone else’s. You all were perceptive enough to see the light around me. I don't think there’s anything wrong with what we can see.” I took a breath. What I was about to say was insane, but it was the only thing I had.

“I think this is part of the test.”

The shouting match started again.

My eyes seemed to be focusing correctly again. One of the men put a jacket around me, giving me something else to wear besides my tattered boxers. It had Colt embroidered on the chest and reeked of sweat and diesel fuel. Usually, I would turn my nose at the smell, but I was desperate. I started to feel a little better as the warmth soaked back into my frozen arms.

“Calvary is on the way, boss. Ambulance, highway patrol investigation team, our bosses, the whole 9. Wouldn’t shock me if a news crew listening to a scanner is on the way too. Who the fuck would leave a kid like this?”

“A monster,” I said painfully, finally able to get enough breath into my lungs to talk.

“If you will let me finish before flying off the fucking handle, I have an idea,” I yelled over the confused shouting of my pledge brothers.

Their arguing stopped, and I almost felt their stares locked on me. You got this, Novo.

“Kevin, do you usually know how to read a map?”

“Not really; I just use the GPS on my phone,” he answered, kicking the ground as he did so.

“They gave the map to someone who can't read a map. Does anyone know how to sight north using the stars?”

The silence was my answer.

“Guys, think about this. We need to work together. What better way than forcing us to help other people instead of taking it and doing it ourselves? The how I don't understand, but knowing how they are doing this isn’t going to help right now. We got a map referencing north, and we have a night sky. We can make this work. We just need to trust each other.”

The silence paused for a moment before the shouting match started again, this time over just accepting and going along with it or trying to figure out what was wrong with us.

“Ain’t wrong about that. Boss, think we can take him to the cab of the truck? At least let him sit in the heat till the ambulance gets here?”

“Nice thinking, Tray. You think you can walk to the truck, champ?” Colt asked me, putting his arm around me

The thought of warmth drove me to try and move my legs. The pain was excruciating.

One by one, the pledges stopped arguing and sat down by me, either convinced to ride this challenge out or just tired of being hard-headed. Eventually, it was just Logan and Jer arguing.

“Are you boys done?” Kevin asked, annoyed that this was still going on.

They were both surprised to see the rest of us sitting together. They had been so focused on their argument and being right that they forgot there were six other guys.

“Ah fuck.” Jer said, “I guess.”

“He’s a fucking kid, not a piece of evidence. Would you rather be doing a murder investigation?” Colt screamed at the police officer.

So many flashing lights. Too many people, especially for me, wearing just my underwear. The paramedics tried to treat me as much as they could from the truck's cab because I refused to get out of it, scared I would lose my heat. My toes were just starting to regain feeling. I was wearing the man's jacket, the smell of diesel fuel and sweat embracing me, making me feel not alone.

“The entire site is tainted.”

“You are worried about footprints forgetting that there are fucking cameras all over this place. DOT central already has them pulled for you. You’re welcome,” Colt told the officer before turning his back on him to head over to me. He asked the paramedic, “how’s he doing?”

“He won’t move, and he won’t let us take the jacket off him, but he’s unzipped it so we can access his chest. His heart rate is picking up, so that’s a great sign.”

“Hey champ, you know the heater in the ambulance is better than in this old truck. Think maybe you wanna head over there?”

I shook my head, too scared to move.

“What if I walked with you? You could show everyone how tough you are.”

My throat still hurt to talk, but I forced myself to ask, “can I keep the jacket?”

“Sure champ,” he chuckled, “but only if you make it all the way to the ambulance with these guys.”

The paramedic put his hand out to help me out of the truck as I shifted my legs.

“Ok, so look above the horizon; you should see a big square of stars, with what looks like a tail coming off on one corner. Below that, there should be a smaller square with a tail coming off to one side; the small square and tail should be just above the tree line.”

I hoped this made sense.

“I think I see it,” Apollo and Travis almost said in unison.

Yes, maybe we can do this.

“Ok, let’s double-check; the two vertical stars in the big square opposite the tail should line up with the end of the little square's tail.”

“Holy fuck, it does!” Apollo shouted.

Holy fuck was right. We might be able to get out of this.

“Nice! That last star in the little one's tail is Polaris; that's the north star. The big square and tail are the big dipper, and the little square is the little dipper. As long as we can sight Polaris, we can sight north. That should help read the map. The rest of the stars will move through the night around Polaris.”

“No shit, that means the trail is this way; come on,” I could hear Kevin say while running.

“Don't run, dumbass; we got a blind old man we gotta take care of,” Travis yelled to Kevin.

“Hey fuck you….” I started to argue, but he was right

“Nah, yer right, that was mean. Sorry man, I guess I'm still a little heated.” Travis walked back.

“Let's stick together. Apollo, why don't you try and keep sighting north so Kevin can keep us going in the right direction,” Logan said while Track put his arm around me “come on, old man, let's get you moving.”

“Wait, how come he can say it,” Travis said while walking away.

“Because he likes me,” Track said, leading me to the other pledges.

“Ok kid, this is gonna hurt a bit,” the paramedic said, pulling the duct tape from my chest.

“Motherfucker” I screamed while he did it.

“Damn kid cusses just like you, boss,” Tray told Colt in the ambulance. The highway patrolmen who were so mad at Colt for cutting me loose were giving interviews with the news vans that showed up. They told me to be quiet while the cameras were rolling.

“Jesus. Ouch fuck” I screamed again as the paramedic cleaned the spots where the tape had ripped off some skin before bandaging it.

“How much of this is to fuck with the highway patrol,” Colt asked me while Tray ran interference as an angry cop headed our way.

I just grinned at Colt, feeling more myself now that I was warm.

“Nice job, champ.”

“What's wrong, Kevin?” Apollo asked as we stopped on a flat piece of ground.

“The map just ends, is this where we are supposed to end up?” Kevin asked, confused.

I held onto Track and kept blinking my eyes as the inky blackness slowly gave way to rough shapes of people.

“Check and see if there's an envelope anywhere, guys,” Logan shouted excitedly.

“Go on Track; I’ll stick here,” I told him as I sat on the ground.

“You know you are supposed to be at the group home, and campfires are illegal out here champ.”

I lay on my back, staring at the stars and enjoying the warmth of the small fire. It was one of the few things that made me feel ok. If those tiny points of light could look so fragile while being giant gravity-powered fusion reactors…

“I know, but no one will miss me while I’m out here,” I said, sitting up.

I was still wearing his jacket. He never got it back from me. His name tape still proudly showing off who gave this to me. The grease, oil, and diesel fuel smells were slowly replaced by teenage sweat as I started to come into my own. He briefly studied my face and sat down before responding, knowing what was eating at me.

“Just because you don't exist on paper doesn't mean you don't have consequences, ya little shit,” Colt said, grabbing the back of my neck before putting his arm around me.

I melted into him for a minute, feeling safe again for the first time in a while.

“You know, you don't have to tell them the truth. You weren't on any tax returns, and social security never issued you a number. Your birth certificate doesn't have a copy in the county records; all you have are those few burnt remains with your mom's first name, your first name, and the seal from the hospital.”

“What do you mean,” I asked him, keeping my head on his shoulder.

“I'm keeping an eye on you, champ. The wife knows all the ladies in the county office.” He paused to sort out his words, “you are better than him. Your records can erase him. He doesn't have to be your father.” Colt said, wiping the tear from my eye without even looking.

It was a beautiful night—a light breeze keeping the worst of the late summer mugginess at bay. Even the stars were showing off, twinkling with gusto, complimenting the full moon.

“Anyone find one” Logan yelled from the other side of the clearing.

“Not yet,” Track yelled back.

“This is the worst game of Marco Polo ever,” Jer added, lightening the mood.

I continued to lay on my back, slowly letting my eyes re-adjust to seeing, looking at my nearly naked pledge brothers searching the tree line. We did it, at least part of it. We made it to the end of the map. I rolled over to get up, and an envelope slid off my chest. White with the same red seal as the letters on Saturday.

“Uhh guys, you might wanna see this.”

Colt threw my bike and backpack into the truck's bed and drove me back into town. The sky was full of color as the sun started to come up.

“No more running away and camping out, ok champ. If you need to talk, just call.” Colt said.

I nodded, scared of this next step I was about to undertake. Ms. Noreen was standing in the lobby as we walked in. “Colt, Issac. Thank you for coming back. I trust you had a good night.”

“Awesome,” I answered tersely.

“State records office is here to talk with you, Issac. Maybe with records that you actually do exist, you will start to think about your consequences,” she said, voice dripping with venom.

For a woman who supposedly wanted to support us, she was a hell of a bitch to us.

“Issac, remember what I said” Colt yelled as Ms. Noreen walked me to the conference room.

“How’re the eyes,” Logan asked me.

“Fine, as long as I don't stare at you. Have you thought about a tan?” I joked back to him

“Glad yer feeling better, asshole. What does the note say?”

I cracked the seal and opened the letter.

“Welcome to your home for the night. You will need everything in the trees that surround you to survive the night. There is a pit in the middle of the clearing for your fire. Work together, and this will go quickly. Fight again, and things may just not end up where they should.”

We stood silent for a minute before I spoke up, “What do you think, Logan?”

“Let's split up and see if we can find what they are discussing—groups of two. If you find something and can get it with just the two of you, bring it to the pit. If not, call for us.”

“I'm willing to bet whatever we have to do to get supplies is going to take all 8 of us,” Kevin added.

“Plus, we gotta start a fire. A quick search for easy grabs and kindling?” Logan asked the group.

We all answered in the affirmative. We had a plan.

“Issac, please, take a seat.”

She sat with glasses at the end of her nose, looking at what was left of my birth certificate.

“Cases like yours are unfortunately common in these small medical clinics. We are just going to try and fill in as many blanks as we can, ok hun?”

I managed to force a smile. “I’ll give you as much as I can.”

“Such a strong boy.” She said as she picked up her legal pad.

“I swear to god if you fall out of this tree,” Declan shouted at Track as he moved out on the branch to untie the bags suspended above us.

“Then you will have to climb it next.” Track said, working the knot with his nimble fingers, “empty rope coming down.”

He tossed one of the ends of the rope down to us. It coiled up with enough slack to let down the bag without letting it drop. Logan grabbed the rope as Track undid the other knot on the line. The bag fell a couple of feet when it was untied, making the branch buck.

“Hey guys, hold the rope till I get all these untied and am off; the branch wants to throw me off,” Track yelled.

“I got you, bro,” Logan yelled back up.

Six bags, eight pledges. We could do this.

“Ok honey, let's go through what we have. We have your mother's first name as Pamela; what was her last name when you were born.”

I had a choice. Colt framed it perfectly; I could make him not exist. Out of nowhere, I could almost hear Anton telling me it was ok.

“Novotny. Anton, Antonin Novotny was my dad.” I stuttered while lying to her.

“Can you spell that for me?” she asked me.

I spelled it out for her, charting my new future for myself. My legal name changed, and my father was erased from my documents. Anton was given his proper place. I was a Novotny now.

“Ok, and what’s your birthday?”

“March 20th”

“And who is Jackson Miller?” She asked, seeing him on a custody form.

“My old godfather,” I lied again.

Track jumped down from the lowest branch as the last bag slowly touched the ground.

“Fuck yeah, guys!” I yelled, untying the knots on the bags. Inside was everything we needed: pop-up tents, sleeping bags, and toilet paper.

“Hey guys, let's lay the tents in a circle around the pit,” Apollo said.

We were working together. With fits and starts but together nonetheless. We dragged the bags into the big clearing and formed them around the pit where we had drug some dry wood for a fire. Everything was laid out, and the boys were putting the flex rods into the tents when I noticed a white rectangle with a red seal.

“So that's it?” I asked, confused.

“That's it. We will have a new birth certificate for you and a social security card issued. I don’t know why the county never sent it in.” She said, putting her reading glasses back into her bag along with the legal pad and the ziplock bag with all the remains of my birth certificate.

“So what do I do in the meantime,” I asked her.

“Stop sneaking out. Work on getting good grades and getting out of here.”

I couldn't tell if she meant the county or the group home. Either way, I was free of him.

Apollo worked on getting the fire started as we staked down the tents just in case the wind kicked up. The envelope sat on the bag, but I would crack it when we had this done. We were doing well, and I didn't want to start another fight.

“Fuck yes!” Apollo shouted when there were a few licks of flame.

He continued to blow lightly as the flames consumed the pine needles and leaves we had stacked in the pit. Logan tossed in small twigs when Apollo said to. The fire slowly grew as he added increasingly larger sticks and branches. Logan kept breaking long fallen branches into short ones to feed the growing fire.

“Hey guys, I got another envelope,” I yelled once I was somewhat confident the fire could survive.

The rest of the pledges groaned, and I couldn’t blame them. These envelopes never lead to anything easy. I cracked the seal and read one confusing sentence.

“Open your bedrolls.”

Thats it.

We rolled out our rolls, and each of us had a map.

“Uhh, together?” Kevin asked while the fire continued to grow as the accumulated wood caught.

“Lead the way.”

We went to the spot marked on Kevin’s map. It was a tree with a hollow in it.\

“Logan, can you lift me so I can take a look in there?” Track asked.

“Got you, buddy,” Logan said, lifting Track to peer into the hole.

“No fucking way! Dudes, it's beer!” Track said, reaching into the hollow to pull out six packs of beer cans.

“Toss 'em down to me; let's carry 'em back and see what we got on the next map,” Declan yelled back to Track.

Declan used his football skills to catch each six-pack, not dropping a single one. We each carried two six-packs back to camp, more than enough for a fun night.

“Ok, Apollo, yer up. Lead the way.”

“Josh, what the heck are you doin?” I asked, catching the kid halfway out the window.

“I can’t stay here, Novo,” he said, desperation evident in his voice.

“Where you gonna go?” I asked, taking a seat on the counter.

The silence echoed off the tile of the bathroom. The sound of the cicadas outside only punctuated how he hadn’t thought this through.

“I know it sucks here. I know better than most. But it ain't forever,” I offered

“That’s easy for you to say; you are out next year,” he shot back, slowly working himself back into the building to get more force into his voice.

“To go into the Marines! You think that’s going to suck less than here?” I shot back at him.

“At least it's somewhere,” he grumbled softly.

“I guess,” I said glumly, stepping over to him.

I looked at his face, his black eye coming in strong.

“Who was it,” I asked him.

“I ain't snitching.”

“And I ain't in charge. Who was it?” I asked again, more forcefully.

“Reeves,” he said, almost whispering.

I sat down below the window, trying to control my rage. This kid was the bully of the facility. He bragged about screwing over foster parents and ending up back here. They always sent him out first, not the kids who would do well in those homes.

“It's always fucking Reeves.” The kid needed to get taken down several pegs.

“What are you gonna do to him,” he asked me.

“Nothing if you leave. Make an example if you stay and finish your homework.” I told him with a smile. “Come on, champ. Let's get ya back in.”

We had a fucking spread. Apollo found Jer’s guitar across a rope bridge he was scared to cross, but he did it with Travis behind him. Logan ended up with a cooler full of food after having to delicately fold his map to make it readable, Jer talking him through the folds, so his big hands didn't rip the thin paper. Kevin had the beer, which took us all to bring back and Track to get into the hollow. Travis and Declan found all the cookware in a bag under some big rocks that needed most of us to lift so they could grab them. Jer had what looked like music tabs. Track didn't share his note but said it was already done, which was strange.

That just left me.

“Follow this map; the power of the morning is in your forgotten past.”

The fuck.

“Issac, this is Jackson Miller.”

I knew the creature across from me.

“I thought I would never hear from or see you again,” I said, fighting to keep my voice as flat as possible.

“I said you would never find me. I never said I wouldn’t find you.” He said, a slight grin forming on his face.

Fucking bastard.

My case worker sat looking confused.

“You did a good job getting rid of me on your paperwork. Ironically that allowed me to get back into the system. How many foster kids have lived under my roof since then?” He said, twirling the pen in his fingers.

My hands began to shake with rage.

“They don't stay for long. Just long enough for a few checks to cash before they are off again. It's amazing how they don't even investigate when you say they just ran away,” he put the pen down on the table.

I could feel a fire in my gut—a rage I couldn’t describe.

“It's a shame Colt had to find you. He was such a nice guy. It's been three years since you saw him last, isn’t it?”

My hands shook.

“You know it’s a crying shame how many people out here disappear. Don't show up to work; no phones, no records, no trace. They disappear out of thin air.”

I stared at his face; it was different than I remembered. He seemed somehow both older and younger. It felt darker in the room than when I had walked in. When I looked at the caseworker's notepad, it seemed like she was hearing an entirely different conversation between us.

“Oh, don't worry about her. She’s nice but easily influenced. She’s going to think we are the best of friends,” he said as the room grew dimmer despite the lights all being on.

The fire grew too hot in my stomach.

“The fuck is this,” Kevin said as we approached an old brick building on a creek.

“Maybe it's an old grain mill; they used to be everywhere,” Apollo said, pointing to where the water wheel used to be.

Miller.

“Motherfucker. Y'all stay out here,” I told them, realizing what I would have to do.

“Bullshit, all of these tasks have needed all of us; you ain't special. We all go,” Kevin said, taking steps up to me.

We were standing eye to eye. I wanted to fight. I wanted to argue. I wanted to stand my ground. Except he was right. The tasks needed everyone either as moral support, ballast, counterweight, or to haul things back to camp. I had never been more scared. My stomach felt like it was in knots.

I took a step back, “Good call Kevin. We just have done so well I don't want to fuck it up and have y'all get hurt on this one.”

“And we don't want to fuck it up by letting you get hurt by yourself, ya dumbass,” he said, smacking me on the shoulder.

I couldn’t help but smile.

“Ok then, I think whatever we need to look at is on the millstones. I’m not sure how well we will be able to see it from the bottom there, but it's a clear visible shot here. Think maybe a few of y'all can guide us?” I asked. If they wanted to go, this might be the safest way.

“Got you,” Apollo said, already getting a good vantage point.

“Big stone? I'm in,” Logan said.

“And tight spots,” Track said, stepping up.

I just laughed, “Lead the way, short stuff.”

“I'm taller than you are, ass,” Track said, leading us down the hill to what looked like an entrance to the brick building.

His face began to contort.

“You were there that night, weren’t you?”

“Oh, come on kid, give me some credit. A meal as strong as your mom would have been an easy target for me from the start.”

His face was gone by this point. His form melted into an impression, a dark field sucking in all the light.

“No, like I can’t feed on you; I couldn’t feed on her. Hell, I couldn’t even feed on that Cossack she took in after me. From me to some fucking slav. A crying shame,” his voice echoed in my head, almost as if it was coming from inside me.

I could see it move, a dark patch into one of the upper corners where the roof met the walls.

“Hiding again, old man?” I said. Fuck it. If he was one of those things, then I would do my damndest to fight it. “Is this why you tied me up back then, scared to fight me for real”

I could feel something solid in my hand like Anton told me would happen. Whenever I needed something, I could dig deep, and the universe would find a way. The fire in my belly was digging deep, and something was coming up. I looked down and saw a sword made of glowing light. I raised it at the corner of the room where whatever claimed it was my progenitor clung to the walls and smiled.

“My name is Isaac Novotny. You killed my family; prepare to die.”

It made a noise I could only assume was a chuckle before saying, “He really did love to read you that book. I guess to quote it as well, As you wish.”

The light suddenly returned to normal, and I felt like the floor was falling from under me.

Nothing about this looked safe.

“A few more feet and you should be able to climb up,” Apollo yelled above us.

That boy's vision was insane. How he could see us only illuminated by moonlight was a trick I wish we had when I was overseas. A pile of collapsed brick and rubble formed almost a perfect ramp up to where Apollo said the grindstone was. We all stayed close together and slowly made our way up the ramp, checking for safe footing on each step.

“Guys take cover” Apollo screamed.

A few bricks looked like they had been knocked loose above us. This is what I was fucking afraid of. Track was close to my side; Logan was right behind me. My stomach burned as I instinctually grabbed their heads with my bad right arm and put my left above us, closing my eyes tight. I felt the bricks hit my arm, but they bounced harmlessly off.

“Holy fuck” Logan said.

I opened my eyes to see the ground lit by a blue-white light. I locked my eyes on the ground and moved my arm, my shadow dancing as the light source moved. The pain in my shoulder and burning in my lower back informed me that this was not a dream. I looked up to see a shield surrounding my arm, the same one I had when I held a sword at Teo, wrapping my arm. Keeping it in this position, it acted like an umbrella, covering where our heads were.

“How the fuck” Track said, staring at me with his mouth agape.

“This is a bit more than we meant when we said you were glistening,” Logan said, taking a few steps to stand next to Track.

I stood up straight and shook both of my arms, the shield getting fainter until gossamer strings illuminated only the outline before disappearing.

“I, I don't know,” was all I could say.

“I mean, that’s pretty damn cool. We should see what else makes it happen,” Logan said, picking up a few rocks and tossing them at me.

It broke the tension. All I could do was chuckle at the insanity of the situation as Logan pelted me with gravel.

“Or maybe I can use it to hold your hands behind you so you can’t throw shit,” I said, catching a small rock and throwing it back at him.

Track looked at me nervously.

“You ok, champ,” I asked him.

“Yeah, just confused.” He answered.

“Well, let's be confused out of here; I don't know if I can make that happen again in case more shit falls.”

He just nodded.

The grindstone had a hole cut in it, just small enough for me to reach my bad arm in and grab something to pull it out. I went in and felt a bag. I pulled it out, and it was something glorious.

“Fuck yeah, Novo found coffee!” Track shouted.

I tossed him the bag, and he paused. Looking at the bag, his hands shook, and he looked at me again.

“There's something else in there,” he said softly.

I reached back into the hole and felt something. It felt like a book but not a big one. When I pulled it out, I looked at the cover and laughed.

“So you summoned a sword made of light.”

He stared at me over his glasses sitting at the edge of his nose.

“It felt like it,” I said, feeling two inches tall.

“Your case worker says you argued with a decorated foster parent of our system, accused them of abusing multiple children under his care, and tried to stab him with a pencil.”

I stared at my shoes.

“Issac, I know none of this has been easy; but you are so close to getting out of here. You graduate in 3 months, and the Marines have a ship date for you to go to basic. I need you to be honest with me: did you see a sword made of light, or are you just scared to leave the only place you called home for the last four years?”

I stared at my shoes. He was giving me an out. If I was honest, my military career was over before it started. And who knows, maybe he was right. Maybe I was seeing things. Maybe my brain made it all up to protect me from leaving here.

“I just want to graduate with what I know, Sir,” I said, heart pounding out of my chest.

“Say that next time instead of wasting your case worker's time. I'll let her know to stop looking at fosters for you. I appreciate your honesty today. I hope we won’t have a repeat of yesterday again in here.” The therapist said, closing his notebook.

“A book?” Travis asked, handing me a beer.

“The same book my stepdad used to read to me when I was sick.”

“Isn’t that book a movie? I think my dad quotes it all the time.”

“Yeah, it's a good one,” I answered, sipping my beer.

I opened the cover and inside was a note. It said, “Never forget who you are, champ.” That handwriting, no, it was impossible. I tried to keep my face from cracking, but Travis must have seen it.

“Come on, Jer almost has it tuned. Let's get drunk, sing a few songs, and enjoy ourselves. We might have won this one.” Travis said, reaching out his hand.

I tossed the book on my bedroll.

Jer had started to play.

“Down the road here from me, there's an old holler tree

Where you lay down a dollar or two

Go on round the bend, come back again

There's a jug full of that good ole mountain dew.”

All of us sang.

We drank.

We danced.

We howled at the moon as only a group of men who had done what they thought impossible could do. There are only a few people I have ever done that with.

Jer played and sang the song he’d been itching to play since he pulled out that guitar.

“I remember all them summers,

Playing till my fingers bled.”

I stood unsteadily next to the fire, watching Jer play with a goofy grin on my face that only a man who’s downed five beers on an almost empty stomach can have.

“He's glistening again,” Logan said, raising his beer at me.

My pledge brothers watched as those strings of light formed across my chest. I could feel his embrace, his warmth. I wanted to share this moment with my new brothers.

“Just my old boyfriend, letting me know he still loves me,” I said, feeling what I could only assume was Becker holding me. When Jer got to the chorus, I drunkenly joined in.

“'Cause it's just two hours to get there, babe

I can make it back about an hour or so

Hold you close against my skin

I need a little warmth on a night so cold.

The warmth on my back was solid; I stopped singing and enjoyed it. By the time the second verse was over, the feeling was gone. The guys surrounded me, and we sang the chorus together, bonding over shared heartbreak.

Hours later, after Jer played till his fingers actually bled, the fire had died down, and we had run out of beers, I crawled into the tent. I don't think my head hit the bedroll before I was asleep.

Everything I owned was in a duffle bag over my shoulder. The bunk beds were mostly empty except for a few on the far end. My recruiter stood by the door.

“So yer off then,” Josh asked me.

He was ready. He had come a long way since that night in the bathroom. He even enforced the rules independently, without me having to remind him.

“Yer the old man in the house, bro. You ready?” I asked him.

“You know, I used to hope I would get picked up. But now, this is home. As dumb as that sounds,” He said back to me.

“My last piece of advice for you before I turn you loose. Be who you needed when you first showed up, champ. Don't try to be like me; I made too many mistakes trying to be like others. Be you, and be the you that you needed.”

He looked at me with tears in his eyes.

“Hug?” I asked him, knowing his dislike for contact.

“Hug,” he answered, grabbing me in his newly muscled arms.

“Yer gonna do great, champ,” I whispered into his ear before my recruiter cleared his throat.

“I’ll write you a letter as soon as I can,” I told him, breaking the hug.

“Thanks, big bro. I’ll make sure they don't burn the house down.” Josh yelled as I left the bunk room for the last time.

A massive thank you to Scott, John, Bama, and Dodger for your constant feedback and notes and to The Writer X for pushing me to write and publish this at all. Another massive thank you to all who comment (especially JohnnyC); it really does mean the world to know that you are enjoying what I'm writing. I love feedback, so if there's something you like, or something you don't, comment or message me, I'm glad to hear it all (I especially love the people who are messaging me with theories).
As always, thank you for reading, interacting, and generally driving me to do more. This chapter is a risk in how I tell the story. I put a lot of myself into this, and based on my editor's reactions, it seems to pay off.
Copyright © 2022 Kelevra; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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