-
This was genuine, heart-stopping terror.
The blade was cold against his throat. Mutt's own knife, taken from his own pocket, and put against his own throat. This crazy Nazi terrorist named Ernst held him by a fistful of his hair, ruining his perfectly good hair day. But his oily hair styling was an afterthought, the furthest thing on his mind at that moment, as his heart stood frozen in suspense with that switchblade under his chin.
"Now, take it easy," his father, Henry 'Indiana' Jones Jr., pleaded with the younger man. There was a fear and a desperation in his eyes as Mutt had not seen before. This was nothing like his snake phobia, or that look he gets after his mother slaps him.
No, this was genuine, heart-stopping terror.
The cave was crumbling around them and the starving tigers in the pit below them were getting restless with the teasing of tasty morsels in the near future. The rock bridge on which they stood was quaking with the earth, broad cracks appearing in the foundation. No one would live through this if something was not done soon.
"We've gotten out of worse," Mutt assured his father, as he struggled against the Nazi's hold.
"Have we? I can't recall."
His father and his smart mouth. He was almost as witty as his son. Almost.
Suddenly a pair of Nazi guards appeared through a nearby hallway, guns pointed, cocked, and ready.
"Okay, maybe not as bad as this," Mutt admitted, putting his hands in the air.
"I do not want to kill your son, Dr. Jones," Ernst assured him. "It is more devastating a fate than I wish to bestow. I'll even let him take the artifact with him. I will settle for simply having your life instead. It is what I came for, after all."
-
Mutt sat in his chair outside the dean's office, contemplating a comb in his hands. It was black, with very thin bristles. It had a comfortable dwelling place in his back pocket for the last five years. Very easily, Mutt snapped it in half between two fists.
"Henry Jones the Third?" a receptionist called his name from a clipboard, adjusting her black cat-eyed glasses to look at the broken young man sitting in the waiting room chair. Her face let through a glimpse of pity for him, but it was quickly stifled, keeping her all-business façade.
Mutt entered through the door directed, exchanging the wooden chair in the hall for a padded model in front of the principal's desk.
The white-haired old man straightened himself in his chair, coughing a bit to clear his throat. 'Thomas Jolly' was the name printed across a golden nameplate sitting on his oakwood desk. The name suited him. He was a cheery old man, patient and fair. Mutt was not a stranger to this office, having visited it on many occasions since his return to school. He had not adjusted well to the contained environment and strict rules.
"You struck another student. Again."
"He had it coming," Mutt breathed in a whisper. His gaze was locked on that golden nameplate, his eyes puffy with oncoming tears.
"What did they say this time?" Mr. Jolly heaved in a sigh.
"They called me a liar."
"A liar about what?"
"How my dad died."
"Why do their opinions matter to you so much?"
Mutt shook his head.
"It's disrespectful. He died to have honor and he more than deserves it from scum like Kevin McDowell."
"The way I hear it… your father died for you."
Mutt gulped back a lump in his throat.
"I know you declined my offer," Mr. Jolly said, signing his name on a piece of paper. "But after today, I'm afraid I'm going to have to force it on you."
Mutt seized the armrests of his chair and lunged forward.
"You can't!"
Mr. Jolly shook his head no.
"I already have. School is not the place for you after all that's happened--"
Mutt was already flying from his seat, slamming a firm hand on Mr. Jolly's desk.
"My father wanted me to finish school and I damn well mean to!"
"And you will! You just won't do it by sitting in a classroom. I'm excusing you for the rest of the term. You'll get your diploma in the mail."
Mutt heaved a large breath, getting a hold of his temper. He knew he wasn't going to win this one, but it didn't make him any happier about it.
"It's for your own good, Henry," Mr. Jolly assured him. "Make the best of your free time."
-
Ernst shoved Mutt away as Indiana willingly stepped forward, his arms spread out.
"Dad, what the hell are you doing?!" Mutt hissed, rubbing his neck where the blade had once threatened. "You got a plan, right?"
"Sure thing, son…" Indy assured him.
"Well, I'm right behind you."
Indiana frowned in deep thought and patted his son on the shoulder, then took off his signature cap and handed it to his son.
"Hold my hat," he ordered firmly.
No other words were exchanged. He stepped up bravely to his oldest adversary. Mutt smirked. His father so totally had a plan.
"This is exactly how I imagined the great Indiana Jones to die," Ernst smiled with great pleasure, twisted by his cruelty. "No gimmicks, no frills."
The tall German stepped forward, knife extended to Indiana.
"Just a blade into another man's heart. A simple end to a fantastic legend."
Mutt shifted in his stance, glancing at the two Nazi guards who had rifles pointed at Indiana lest he make any sudden moves of heroism. No gun was pointed at Mutt himself. He was free to take the artifact and leave, but his eyes were locked on the scene before him, his feet glued to the unsteady ground.
"I'm right here, just say the word, pop," Mutt reminded his father, a hint of nervousness now slipping into his tone.
Ernst closed the last bit of space between them, pressing the pointed tip of the blade over Indiana's heart.
"Any last words, Dr. Jones?"
"Dad, anytime now," Mutt urged. Indiana looked to his son. And he smiled. That's when Mutt knew that his father would not be seeing tomorrow's sunset."No," Mutt breathed, his eyes growing wide. "DAD!"
Mutt yelled in a fit of rage, shoving a guard out of his way and lunging for Ernst. The bridge began to crumble under the added weight, but no one seemed to pay it much mind. Mutt grabbed at his switchblade in Ernst's evil grasp, taking him by surprise. Mutt didn't take time to be accurate, just threw a good slash at whatever he could, which ending up being the man's mouth, cutting his lips wide open. Ernst called out in pain, seizing his face with both hands and doubling over.
A second later, a guard had his gun raised, aiming at Mutt's back, in an attempt to retaliate. There was no time to react.
"No!" was the yell echoed through the halls, as Indy hurled himself as a human shield to his son, just as the rifle fired.
BANG!
The sound boomed chillingly through the rumbling cave. Time froze and all fell silent as Indiana fell limply into his son's arms. The great Indiana Jones was instantly killed.
"Dad…" Mutt tried to coax him awake. Nothing could register through his shock at what his eyes had just witnessed. Not even tears could be processed. The cracks in the bridge came broadly then, not sympathetic to the dismal scene.
"Ernst, sir! The bridge is caving!" the murderous guard called. His name patch said 'Gunsted'. A name Mutt burned into his memory for future reference. Ernst left Mutt and Indiana behind, rushing out with the two other guards in a great hurry.
"Dad, come on, we gotta go," Mutt said, still not accepting the fact that his father was no longer with him. Half the bridge fell to the tigers below. Still, Mutt tried to drag his father off the bridge, just beyond harm's way…
The bridge began to crumble under his feet.
"No," he commanded the threatening rock firmly. He tugged at his father's arm to get him further along, at least to get his body home… it was so valuable to him… The reality of his father's death was beginning to hit him then, as tears poured down his face so profusely he could barely see.
That's when the ground under Indiana's body dissipated, his limp corpse tumbling down to the pit. Mutt could only watch in horror as the tigers swarmed like a pack of wolves, biting wherever they could get a mouthful, fighting each other for the smallest morsel. Mutt had to watch as his father's body got ripped to pieces, the meat torn from his very bones, for what seemed like an eternity.
After a while, the crumbling cave forced Mutt to leave the sight behind, but that horrifying image wouldn't be leaving his mind's eye anytime soon.