Sheer panic filled Dorian and Rey’s eyes. They looked to their father for a fleeting moment before looking back to Soren. Soren felt his insides drop. He was trapped and there wasn’t a moment to lose. Heart racing, temple pounding, and vision beginning to blur, Soren turned to his brothers and looked them dead in the eye.
“You two need to run,” said Soren. He kept his voice as steady as he could while looking them in the eyes. Their moods shifted immediately.
“Wh… what? NO! We can’t leave you! We won’t leave you!” sputtered Dorian.
“Don’t make us leave, Soren!” sobbed Rey. Soren stared at his brothers harshly.
“You promised me you would listen to what I told you to do when we’re out here borrowing. You said you would trust me and listen to what I said,” he said sternly. Soren felt his body shudder violently again as he gripped his brothers’ hands tighter. [Don’t make this tough. What if… No! You’re getting out of this. Don’t scare them.] He softened his voice and tried his best to force a smile.
“I’m going to be okay,” said Soren, his trembling voice was measured and sounded close to normal. “Brady is going to get me out; but, for right now, you need to go back to the walls and hide. Okay?” Dorian and Rey looked into their brother’s eyes.
“I’m sorry,” muttered Dorian. Soren shook his head.
“Don’t be. It’s not your fault. Now, go.” With a reluctant nod and a sniff, they pressed their foreheads to his, stood, and started running for the wall as fast as their little legs could carry them. Brady and Soren were alone now.
Soren could see the expression on Brady’s face, which was one of pure mortification. The sound of the car rolling into the garage and turning off was perfectly clear to both of them now. The grinding, whirring gears of the immense door started up again. They didn’t have much time.
“Brady!” Soren called his names several times to get his attention. “We don’t have a lot of time. Pull up on the bar.” Brady didn’t move. He stood there, frozen stiff and eyes locked on the door leading into the kitchen where the grinding sounds were. “Brady!” Soren could see in his peripheral vision that Brady had stepped off of the mousetrap now and was inching away from Soren.
[No… he’s not… he’s not going to.] Thought Soren. [He’s too terrified of being seen again. He… he’s going to leave me.]
“I… I can’t,” muttered Brady. “It’s too heavy.”
“You didn’t even try! Brady! Listen to me, we don’t have time to debate this. I can’t do this on my own. I need you to try! For Dorian and Rey, I need you to try.” Soren couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Brady had taken a few more steps into the open back toward the safety of the wall socket on the other side of the room. They heard the jingling of keys. Soren’s vision swam as he fought another pang of nausea. He slammed his fist onto the ground as if it helped him stay connected to his conscious self. His head was starting to throb painfully.
“You’re right. I do need to try,” Brady muttered. “I can’t save you, but I’ll try and do what I can for my sons. I haven’t been there for them. You helped me see that. I can do better now.”
Soren felt his jaw drop. His insides churned while his vision blurred again. He gasped for air as another wave of throbbing pain injected itself in his thoughts. The cold sweat returned, wracking his body with a bout of shivers which made him accidentally twitch his leg. He cried out again in pain, wincing as the tears fell onto his hands.
Soren wasn’t one to cry, but his body now had a mind of its own. Once completely in control, Soren’s body began to seize the opportunity and drag him into darkness. His thoughts spilled from his mouth involuntarily in a final, desperate attempt to draw Brady back.
“Don’t! You can’t leave me here. Dorian and Rey, they won’t make it!”
“I’m sorry…” was his only response.
His brothers, the only two people who mattered anymore, were going to be left in the hands of an incompetent fool. How would they survive? Would they survive? What was going to happen to them? Soren watched as Brady ducked into the walls and secured the electrical cover over the entrance.
There were several seconds – several precious seconds – where Soren was left completely alone. It was that silence that brought forth that single, terrible notion he had suppressed until this point in time.
He was probably going to die.
Soren heard the jingle of keys hit the kitchen counter as his body exerted its control over his mind. His body shook violently from exhaustion and stress. Cold chills coated his face and torso. If he had something heavy for lunch, it would have made a reappearance. Instead, he gagged a few times. The involuntary thrashing sent waves of new searing pain into his mind. His vision swirled and began to blacken, but not before he caught a glimpse of the woman’s shadow overcasting his frame.
He gave into the darkness, slipping quietly away to an end he did not know.
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