Chapter 16 -- Breaking Point
Well, I'm losin' control . . .
Damn it, Jonny
thought muzzily, I'm so close. Why can't I find the right combination?
He stared blearily at the clock across the room. He had to squint to focus on it. 4:15. It took a moment for it to
register. In the morning??? He stared
out the window at the blackness outside, then back at the clock. It was four in the morning? Again? Wasn't this what he had done last night???
Suddenly, he wondered when he had slept the last time. He couldn't remember. His brain was simply refusing to work any
longer. Maybe if he just laid down for
a while. He had been struggling, trying
to hack into the IBEW records, since lunch. But their programmers were good and their computer security
excellent. There had been a couple of
times when he had to withdraw quickly
before he set off security sensors. Knowing where they were, he had been able to reenter and bypass
them. But it had all taken time, and he
still wasn't in. He was pretty certain
he was close to cracking it, but he just couldn't find the right
combination. And he had felt sluggish
all evening long . . . like he was trying to peer through a dense fog. Reluctantly, he decided he had better stop
and get some sleep. It wouldn't help
him any if he managed to trip the final security sensors just as he gained
access.
He rose, arching his back to try to ease the stiffness out
of it. He had tried to contact Jessie
three more times throughout the day and had been unsuccessful in all three
attempts. The phone would ring emptily,
until finally, the cellular operator would come on to ask him to try placing
his call later. He wondered groggily
where she could possibly be. Surely,
someone would have picked up the phone if they were nearby. But right now he was simply too tired to
consider it. He would get some sleep
and try that again in the morning,
too.
***
Jonny woke abruptly. That's what he had been doing
wrong! He scrambled out of bed and
stumbled to his computer. Connecting
back out to the IBEW data files, he ran through the series of well-hidden
gateways he had established earlier. With bated breath, he tried the series of access codes that had come to
him while he slept. The system worked
briefly and suddenly an option menu appeared on his screen. He was in! Quickly, he executed a search in the member files for any active or
inactive member named Charles Simmons. The system worked briefly and three names suddenly appeared on the
screen. Jonny studied the minimal
information provided. There was one in
Chicago, one in Dallas, and one in Denver, all active members. No home addresses or phone numbers . . .
only the location of their IBEW local. Surely there must be more information someplace. He tried several different searches but
couldn't seem to come up with anything. Finally, on the last screen, he found a note which referred him to the
home local's files. When he tried to
access the information at the specified local, he was further referred to paper
personnel files housed at the union hall.
Jonny sighed. These
people certainly were paranoid. You'd think they were expecting someone to
break into their computer files or something, Jonny thought with a flash of
his old humor. Fleetingly, it occurred
to him that Jessie would see the irony in that thought.
He glanced out his bedroom window and saw the first hints of
dawn showing on the eastern horizon. He
sighed again. He simply wasn't up to
trying to search further right now. He'd try again later today and see if he could access anything
else. Right now, he was going to go
back to bed.
***
When Jonny woke again, it was to bright sunshine and the
sound of knocking on his bedroom door. Feeling groggy and confused, he called, "Yeah?" The door opened and his father stuck his
head in, looking at him questioningly.
"Are you going to sleep all day?"
"Huh?" He dragged
himself into a sitting position and squinted at the sunlight. "What time is it?"
"Almost 11:00. You
do remember that I have a lunch meeting with Dr. Lyons of the Tinsley Institute
today, don't you? I'm getting ready to
leave right now."
"Oh, yeah . . . yeah, I remember . . . in Augusta . . .
lunch meeting . . . right . . ."
Benton looked at his son in concern. "Are you all right?"
Jonny scrubbed at his face, trying desperately to orient himself. "What time did you say it is?"
Benton entered the room and approached his son's bed, a
worried frown on his face. "Eleven. Son, what's wrong? Aren't you feeling well?"
Jonny shook his head in an effort to clear the final cobwebs
and smiled up at his father somewhat unconvincingly. "No, I'm okay. I just
haven't gotten much sleep in the last couple of days, and I crashed pretty hard
last night when I finally went to bed. I just haven't woken up yet. I'll be fine once I have some breakfast."
"Maybe you should go back to bed..."
Jonny shook his head. "No. I'll be fine. Just still waking up. And I have a bunch of things I want to do
today, so I should get started. Is
Brandon up yet?"
His father frowned again. "Yes, but I'm not sure what to make of him. He's too quiet."
"It's okay. He's
just edgy about court tomorrow. He'll
be fine."
Benton sighed. "Yes. That's probably it. You will keep an eye on him today, won't
you?"
"Sure. The day looks
like it's gonna be pretty. Maybe we'll
go into Camden and wander around . . . catch a movie or something. It's probably just as well if we stay busy
today, anyway. I've got a few things to
do around the house, but I don't think they'll take very long. You have any idea what time you'll be home?"
"Hopefully, by about four, but certainly no later than
dinner time."
"Okay. Brandon and I
will come up with something for dinner. Mrs. Evans didn't leave anything, did she?" Jonny asked hopefully.
Benton snorted. "No. The two of you have eaten
it all."
Jonny grinned. "Well, then I guess it's our responsibility to take care of it. Have a good meeting and we'll see you
tonight."
"All right. The two
of you be careful today." Benton
stopped in the doorway and looked back at his son. "You're sure you're all right?"
Jonny just laughed and waved at him as he got out of
bed. His father waved back and left for
Augusta.
***
As he headed downstairs, Jonny knocked on the door of
Brandon's room. Brandon's response was
unintelligible but Jonny opened the door and stuck his head in anyway.
"Hey, Brandon, did you eat? I'm gonna go get some breakfast. You want anything?"
The boy shook his head. "No . . . . . . thanks."
"Oh, come on. Dad
said you haven't eaten."
"I'm not hungry."
Jonny came in and sat down on the bed, looking at Brandon
soberly. "Don't worry, Brandon. Things will be okay."
"I can't go back there, Jonny. I really, really can't. I'd rather die!" The boy was on
the verge of tears again.
Jonny sighed. "I
know. We'll figure out something. I promise. Now come on . . . let's go scrounge through the fridge and see what we
can find." He stood and put his arm around the boy's shoulders and guided him
toward the door. "What would you say to
a movie this afternoon?" The boy
shrugged. "Anything you want to see..."
Brandon thought about it for a moment, a spark of interest
flickering in his eyes. "Anything?"
"Well . . . what did you have in mind?"
Brandon grinned at him suddenly, "I don't know. I'll think about it. When are we gonna leave?"
"Soon. I still need
to call Jessie. Then we can go."
***
Jessie sat atop one of the tall temples on the far side of
the excavation site from where she had been working the day before. She sighed and ran her hands through her hair
in frustration. She was starting to
feel like a mouse being stalked by a cat. For the second day in a row, she was spending her time trying to
anticipate and avoid Ruben. She had
hoped that their argument yesterday afternoon would have cooled his insistence
on a relationship between the two of them. But it appeared to have done little more than serve as a challenge. Yesterday evening he had dogged her tracks,
following her everywhere she went. She
had tried to make it a point of staying with other people, hoping to avoid
another confrontation. And for a while
that had worked. But by mid-evening,
both Nathan and DeForrest Blain had begun to look at her strangely. Then, Blain had begun to try and maneuver
her into positions where she was deliberately placed in close proximity to
Ruben. She suspected that he had gotten
a taker on his proposed wager, and that he was trying to hedge his bets. Finally, she had fled to her mother's tent
and spent the remainder of the evening helping her catalog artifacts.
But that had proved to be awkward, as well. Jessie could tell by the expression on her
mother's face that she suspected something was wrong. And it didn't take her long to start asking questions. Jessie had really wanted to talk to her
mother about what had been going on during the last two days, but after
debating with herself, she decided she couldn't. For one thing, it was unfair to Ruben to put him in a bad
position with her mother just because of her own stupidity. And for another, she still needed that
phone. If her mother came to sense how
desperately she wanted to talk with Jonny, she was liable to keep a much closer
watch on it, and she would never have a chance to use it. So she evaded her mother's questions, until
Estella had given up and left her alone. Jessie had waited until her father returned from the trading post before
leaving the safety of her parents' tent. And, even then, she had seen Ruben hovering not far away, waiting for
her to come out. Fortunately, she had
left with her dad, who had escorted her back to her own tent. He hadn't said anything, but she was almost
positive he had also seen Ruben. In any
case, he hadn't disturbed her the rest of the night.
For the second night in a row, her dreams had been haunted
by Ruben and Jonny. Persistent visions had tortured her until dawn, when she
finally gave up all hope of a decent night's sleep. She had waited until she heard the rest of the camp stirring
before coming out of her tent. Again,
Ruben hovered as close as he dared, but she had managed to avoid him until her
mother called him over to lay out the day's schedule. As soon as he was distracted, Jessie had taken off, burying
herself as deeply in the ruins as she possibly could so he wouldn't find her.
From her high perch, she could look down over the entire
camp. She was waiting for the moment
when everyone was so engrossed in their work that she could sneak back to camp
and get the phone. The niche she had
found at the top of one of the primary temples kept her in deep shadow, so she
wasn't concerned about being spotted. And she was prepared to wait all day, if necessary.
Finally, she saw that things were beginning to settle
down. All the workers had dispersed to
various locations throughout the area. Blain had headed for the far end of the site to avoid as much work as possible, I'm sure, her parents were both
down in the new burial chamber trying to assess the amount of added equipment
they were going to need to complete the excavation, and Ruben was supervising
the unloading of some supplies. The
only one left in camp was Nathan, who had just finished phoning in yesterday's
findings. She hoped he would leave
soon. Then she would be able to sneak
down, confiscate the phone, and come back up here to make her phone call to
Jonny.
As she watched, Nathan rose from one of the worktables,
stretched, and moved toward the work site. But, suddenly, he stopped and returned to the table where he had left
the phone. He picked it up, pressed a
button and put it to his ear. Jessie
could see him talking to someone. She
frowned. It was really unusual for
someone to call in to the camp,
because very few people had that number. Suddenly, Nathan laughed, said something else, then set down the phone
and walked toward the work site. He had
made it about halfway when Ruben intercepted him. The two stopped and talked briefly. Then Ruben slapped Nathan on the back and motioned toward the
work site. Jessie could see Nathan nod
and move off toward a group of workmen on the far side of the clearing. Ruben stood for a long moment, watching
Nathan walk away. Then he turned and
moved back toward the campsite. She
watched as he walked up to the table, picked up the phone and began talking to
the party on the other end.
Jessie frowned again and shook her head slightly. Her mother would not like this one bit. The
members of the Museum Board of Directors that were funding this dig were real
stick-in-the-muds. They were monitoring
everything her mother did and everything she spent, practically down to the
penny. She remembered her mother
telling her how loudly they had screamed when she told them she would need a
cellular phone and satellite uplink as part of the project. It had taken a lot of cajoling, promises,
and, in the end, threats to convince them to provide that phone as part of the
project. Jessie had known all too well
what she was risking by using the phone to make a personal call. She had been planning to ask Jonny to help
her. She knew that between he and Hadji,
they could have located the charges, and routed them to the Quest Compound
phone bill before anyone was the wiser. It would take a little bit of hacking, but she didn't doubt they could
and would do it for her. That way, she
would have the chance to talk with Jonny and not get her mother in
trouble. But this . . . She had no idea who Ruben was talking to,
but whoever it was, she didn't think it was a friendly conversation. Ruben looked agitated and, judging by his
expression and body language, he wasn't being particularly pleasant. Suddenly, Ruben lowered the phone and
stabbed at the keypad with one finger. Jessie watched as he lowered the antenna, stuffed the phone in his
pocket, and headed back toward the work site. Damn! Now what was she going to
do? Finally, she sighed, leaned back
and settled herself more comfortably. She would just have to wait a little longer.
***
Jonny sat down at his desk and stared at the phone. He took a deep breath, picked it up and
dialed. As he sat waiting for the call
to connect, he wondered again what he was going to say to Jessie. He wished he had something profound and
perfect, but his brain was in such a muddle he had no idea what would come out
of his mouth when she finally answered. At the rate he'd been going recently, it was probably going to be
something really stupid.
Suddenly, the ringing in his ear stopped and a male voice
said, "Hola."
Startled, Jonny paused. This wasn't a voice he knew. Maybe he dialed the wrong number. Hesitantly, he asked, "Esta
Jessie Bannon?"
"Si. De parte de quien?"
"Me llamo Jonny
Quest."
"Oh, you're her boyfriend, right? Yeah, she's here. Hold
on, let me go find her."
Jonny was disconcerted. Obviously, this guy knew who he was. "Uh . . . yeah. Okay. I'll hold. Who is this?"
The guy on the other end of the phone laughed. "Name's Nathan. I'm one of Dr. Velasquez's research assistants. You'll have to hang on. I'm not sure where Jessie is, and the site
is fairly large. It may be a couple of
minutes before I can track her down and get her to the phone."
"Not a problem," Jonny responded promptly. "I'll wait for as long as it takes."
"I'll bet you will," Nathan commented with another
laugh. Jonny wondered what he meant by that comment, as he heard the distinct
sound of the phone being laid down on a table. In the background, he could hear the sound of birds calling
raucously. Their harsh cries sounded
far away and very foreign . . . almost like they were coming from another
time. Again, Jonny wondered what he
would say when Jessie answered.
Finally, he could hear someone pick up the phone, and a
voice said, "Hello?" But this was not
Jessie. The voice was warm,
mid-register, and male, with a decided Hispanic accent.
"May I speak to Jessie Bannon, please?"
After a brief pause, the voice responded, "Is this Jonny
Quest?"
"Yes. Is Jessie
there?"
Again, there was a pause. Finally, the voice responded, "Yes, but I am not going to call her to
the phone. You have done enough to her
already."
Jonny couldn't believe what he was hearing. Anger and incredulity were clear in his
voice, as he asked, "Who is this?"
"Ruben Calderone. And I will not allow you to hurt Jessie any longer."
Jonny was momentarily speechless. Finally, he sputtered, "This is none of your business. I want to talk with Jessie. Just put her on the phone!"
"No. I have been the one who has sat with her
while she sobbed over your mistreatment of her. I have been the one who
has listened to her try to rationalize your behavior. I was the one who found
her, crying her heart out, when she found out what you had really been doing while
she was gone. This must stop . . . and
I will see that it does!"
"Goddamn it, you asshole! This is between Jessie and me. You have NO right to interfere!" Despite his distress and anger, Jonny noticed a car coming up the long
driveway toward the main house. It was
an older model, full-sized, white Ford with no markings. He watched as a man got out of the car and
disappeared under the porch cover, as he approached the front door. It looked like he might have been in a
uniform, but Jonny really couldn't tell. Dimly, he heard the doorbell.
"I am making it my business to interfere." Ruben
snarled. "Jessie is a very special girl. She is mine
now. She doesn't want you anymore, and
I damned well, won't let you have her back."
"You leave my girlfriend alone, you bastard! You hear me???"
From downstairs, Jonny suddenly heard Brandon's voice. It was shrill, argumentative, and
frightened. It was immediately followed
by another voice, deep and rumbling, that sounded insistent.
"NO. She is MINE!" he screamed. At the instant, Jonny heard
angry voices coming from the entryway. Then Ruben continued in a cold, calculating voice, "Stay away from her. She doesn't need or want you any longer. And this conversation is now over. Do not try to call back." The phone went dead in his ear as Brandon's
shrill voice came clearly up the stairs.
"NO! Let me go! You can't do this . . . JONNY!!!"
Jonny slammed down the phone and bolted for the door. His mind was reeling from the onslaught of
emotions and everything was in chaos. He dashed headlong down the stairs toward
the sound of the commotion. As he
reached the bottom of the stairs, he saw a dark-haired stranger in a Knox
County Sheriff's Department uniform holding Brandon firmly by one arm. Brandon was struggling fiercely against him,
lashing out with both fists and feet, in a desperate attempt to free himself.
"Hey!" Jonny yelled, "What the hell is going on here??? Who are you? Let him go!"
The older man sized him up arrogantly. Snorting derisively,
he turned his back on Jonny with a gesture of dismissal, and shook Brandon
sharply, causing him to stumble. "C'mon, kid," he growled. Brandon whimpered as the grip on his arm tightened and he was dragged
toward the door. Over his shoulder,
the man said, "I'm Sgt. Cason from the Sheriff's Department. I been ordered by the judge to get this boy
and take him back to his mom."
Jonny watched helplessly as they moved toward the door. He had to find a way to free Brandon! Frantically, he reached out and grasped the
man's wrist, deftly applying pressure to the nerves leading to his hand. "I
don't think so."
The man laughed. "Is
that supposed to hurt me, kid?" Then he
swore as his hand went limp and dropped from Brandon's arm. "Son of a bitch!" he cursed, grabbing his
lifeless arm.
Jonny snared Brandon's other arm and put the boy behind
him. "Brandon is in my father's
custody," he said defiantly, "and no one is going to take him anywhere when my dad's not here!"
"Don't matter if he's here or not. Judge says I'm to take the kid back to his mother, so I'm gonna take the kid back his mother!" He
glared at Jonny belligerently and spat, "Now . . . hand . . . him . . . over."
Jonny glared back, as he frantically tried to make sense of
the situation. Why would Judge Henson
order Brandon back to his mother before the hearing? Wait a minute . . .
"Where is the court order from the judge?" Jonny demanded. "Show it to me!"
The man looked a little taken aback, but quickly
recovered. "I don't have it!" he
snarled. "They radioed me out on the
road and told me to bring the kid home."
"I am home!"
Brandon shouted.
"Shut up, kid," the man snapped. "Dammit, Quest, that's it. I'm taking this kid whether you like it or not! So turn him over. NOW!"
"Not without a court order, you're not! If you don't have it, then get lost."
Jonny could see the man tense and prepare to step
forward. Life was coming back into his
numbed hand and he flexed it threateningly. Jonny shoved Brandon in the direction of the kitchen, and, in a raised
voice, he said clearly, "IRIS, security alert. Institute third level defense measures. Prepare to repel all foreign personnel on my order."
"Third level
defensive measures engaged. Two family
members recognized and marked. One
intruder identified. Awaiting further
instructions," IRIS responded.
The man looked around wildly. "What the hell was that?"
"That," Jonny responded with a tight grin, "is the Quest
Compound integrated security system. If
you are not out of here in 10 seconds, I'm going to have IRIS take . . . you .
. . down. Then I will call your
superior officer in Rockland and have him come carry you outta here on a
stretcher. Now, GET . . . OUT!"
The scene hung suspended for a long instant as the man
debated what to do. Finally, he spat,
"This isn't over . . . not by a long shot." Then he stormed out of the house.
Jonny followed him out the front door and watched as he got
into the car and headed back up the drive, tires squealing. With a long sigh of relief, Jonny stepped
back inside and closed the door. "IRIS,
allow him to exit the Compound. Then
close and lock the main gates, maintain Compound security at level three alert
status, monitor all approaches, and notify me immediately if anyone attempts
entry from any direction."
"ACKNOWLEDGED. WORKING." There was a long
pause. "THE INDIVIDUAL HAS NOW LEFT THE
GROUNDS. GATE ACCESS LOCKED DOWN. PERIMETER SECURITY ESTABLISHED. COMPOUND INTEGRITY CONFIRMED. SECURITY LEVEL THREE MAINTAINED."
"Good. Keep me
posted."
"CERTAINLY," was IRIS' soft response.
Jonny turned and said, "Well, Brandon, that takes care of .
. ." But the boy was nowhere to be seen. "Brandon?" Nothing. Sharply, Jonny said,
"IRIS, where is Brandon?"
"SENSORS SHOW BRANDON SIMMONS IS HEADING TOWARD THE CLIFFS
NORTH OF THE LIGHTHOUSE," came her soft reply.
A sudden image of Brandon's white face and the desperation
in his eyes rose in his memory. His
voice echoed in Jonny's mind, saying "I can't go back there, Jonny. I really, really can't. I'd rather die!"
"JESUS!!!!" Jonny
erupted out of the main house, screaming Brandon's name at the top of his lungs
as he ran toward the cliffs. As he
reached the edge of the yard surrounding the main house, he could see Brandon
in the distance. He stood at the edge
of the high cliff where Jonny usually went to think. The boy was motionless, staring downward into the raging surf
that thundered 100 feet below. Some
instinct told Jonny that calling to Brandon now would not be a wise idea. As he approached the spot where Brandon
stood, Jonny slowed to a walk, and, finally, came to a halt about ten feet
away. A cold, fierce wind blew in from
the northeast whipping their hair and clothes around them viciously. Brandon's face was white and pinched, and
his lips were compressed to a thin line. There was a tenseness to his body that spoke of an individual pushed to
the breaking point.
"Brandon." Jonny's
voice was quiet and could barely be heard above the crashing surf and wailing
wind. He moved one step closer. Brandon
flinched slightly at the sound of his name, and there was a barely perceptible
shift of his body closer to the edge. Jonny stared at the boy, and, suddenly, it was as though his visual
focus narrowed down to minute detail. Small clumps of dirt crumbled from the edge of the cliff near Brandon's
shoes and dropped over the edge to fall, unheeded, into the raging water
below. He could see the slightly blue
tinge around the boy's lips as his body heat drained away through his thin
shirt. And he could see the subtle trembling that marked his overstretched
nerves. The incident with the sheriff
must have been more than he could stand, and Jonny knew that one wrong move now
would send the boy over the cliff edge to his death. "Brandon, come on. Let's
go back to the house. It's too cold out
here."
"I can't," he gasped. There was a long pause. "I can't
go back there ever again . . . not ever . . ."
Jonny knew he wasn't talking about returning to the main
house. He watched helplessly, as the
tears started, followed by violent shaking. The boy was falling apart. Desperately, he moved another small step forward, saying, "He's gone,
Brandon! I sent him away. And he can't get back in. IRIS won't let him."
Again, he shifted toward the boy, but this time Brandon
cried out wildly, "No . . . stay
away from me! I won't go back
there. I won't! You can't make me!" For the second time, Jonny felt that almost
imperceptible move toward the edge of the cliff and he saw more earth crumble
and fall away from around Brandon's feet. In his head, he could hear the echo of his father's voice lecturing him
about the dangers of that cliff when he was no older than Brandon.
"Please, Brandon," Jonny begged, "please come back from
there. I won't let anyone send you
back. I promise. Neither will my dad. You don't want to do this."
"You can't stop her," he sobbed. "Nobody can stop her. She
always wins. She'll make me go
back. I'll be all alone, again. She'll scream at me and call me stupid and
she'll never let me see you or Dr. Quest or Hadji or anybody ever again."
"No!" He needed
something that would give the boy a reason to keep trying. Finally, out of desperation, he tried the
only thing he could think of. "We'll
find your dad!"
"He doesn't care. He
went away and left me."
"You don't believe that, Brandon. You know he cared about you. You've told me that. I think she
made him go away."
"It doesn't matter. He's gone . . . and he's never coming back."
"But, I think I may know where he is. We'll go find him, Brandon . . . just you
and me. Come on, what do you say?"
For the first time, Brandon turned his head and looked directly
at Jonny. A wild light still shone in
his eyes, but fighting for control was a spark of hope. "Just the two of us?"
Jonny nodded. "Just
you and me. We'll leave right now. And we'll search until we find him."
For an instant, Jonny saw that flame of hope brighten. But then it flickered and died. "You can't. You have to talk to Jessie. You
have to fix it with her."
Suddenly, everything caught up with Jonny all at once, and
an excruciating pain exploded inside of him. Echoing over and over inside his head was the sound of Ruben Calderone's
voice, ". . . she's mine . . . mine
. . . MINE!!!" It
reverberated like tympani, beating against his heart and mind like a
hammer. Brandon wasn't the only one who
needed to run away.
With a supreme effort, he said, "I've talked to the people
in Colombia, and it's finished. The
damage that I've done between Jessie and I isn't fixable." Jonny took a deep breath. "I want to get away, too, Brandon. She is here . . . in this house. Every time I look around, I see something
that reminds me of her. I can't deal
with that right now. Let's go . . . the
two of us . . . we'll leave here and go find your dad. What do you say?"
Brandon started to turn toward him, and, in that instant,
everything seemed to shift into slow motion. Jonny watched in horror as the ground beneath one of Brandon's feet
dissolved, tilting the boy backward over the edge of the cliff. His arms waved wildly and Jonny could hear
the thin scream as the boy's body arched out into the open air and began to
fall.
Jonny could hear his own voice shrieking, as he lunged
forward, grabbing frantically at the flailing child. At the last possible moment, one of his hands brushed fabric and
he lurched forward again, grasping wildly at the contact. His groping hand contacted something more
solid, and he grabbed and clung to it desperately. The boy's body arched downward, connected to Jonny by the ankle,
and smacked the rock face solidly. Jonny could hear Brandon's gasp of pain and his half-conscious whimper
as the two of them hung there, frozen, for an instant. Jonny laid hips and legs sprawled out on the
ground with the rest of his body hanging out over the edge. His left hand clawed at the cliff as he
clung to Brandon with his right. His
mind had only enough time to register that he didn't have good enough anchorage
to hold and pull them both back, when he felt himself beginning to slide
forward, drawn over the edge by the weight of Brandon's body. With a clarity he had never experienced before,
he saw the water below him, swirling and surging against the jagged rocks. As his legs cleared the ground and he felt
himself beginning to fall, his last thought was how much he regretted not
having told Jessie how much he really loved her.