CalCroissant
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Scorching Ascension - 1.67: Two and a half (Pt. 5) (Unedited)
🕑 Added 2025-01-23 05:43:01 +0000 UTCA/N: I wrote a whole thing in the note, cut to paste it here, then ended up hitting CTRL-C again. I... ugh.
Flashback is done. Tomorrow (or the day after) we get back to the present. Maybe I should have done this flashback sooner, but there's no way to lore-drop this stuff without taking the time and actually going through it. I hope it wasn't too tedious for you guys. Stuff like this makes me nervous.
Excited to go back to magic and wands! See you tomorrow ( or Thursday). Schedule is out of whack, but getting back into the groove.
Cheers and good night!
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Luther ran as fast as his bad knees allowed him, weaving between the crowd toward the docks. His phone was still in his hands, ringing, but no one was picking up.
Goddamit Brian, how did you lose them? Where did they go?
Luther cursed under his breath and slowed down as he approached the corner of one of the city’s most infamous streets. He hadn’t been here in a lifetime, but he had no other choices. He needed leads. He needed people who had a finger or five in the underbelly of the city, and he needed them now.
Goddamn cops.
He’d already called those, but without a specific area or a specific issue, they only gave him lukewarm answers, saying a patrol would swing by, but the area between Broadway and the creek was too wide, and they could patrol as much as they wanted, they would not be capable of finding the boy.
They knew they were being tailed. He knew. We got played.
A few panhandlers glanced at the panting gym teacher, looking him up and down, but before anyone could get any ideas, Luther turned to one of the idle looking vagrants and spoke. “I’m here to see Wallace.”
That made a few perk-up, but others only shared a questioning look between themselves.
“Who’s asking,” said another vagrant that had been leaning over a rusted shopping cart. Gone were the idle and bored eyes. Instead, the man was standing straight, eyes sharp, and so were a handful of others.
A thrill ran down his back, but Luther kept his face still.
“Tell him Luther Voss is calling a favor.”
***
Ethan’s heart was hammering painfully in his chest, but he could not stop walking. Not even when he realized they were getting a bit too isolated for his comfort. Even if Brian was tailing him, a lot could happen here before the detective could do much about it.
His and Edwin’s steps echoed on the concrete sidewalk, and Ethan stole a glance back, but he didn’t see anyone.
Did he lose us?
Ethan swallowed. If the private detective was not on his tail, then he might need to make himself scarce.
“We’re almost there,” said Edwin. “You’ll pick up the package and deliver it to the address we’ll put on the smart-phone we’ll give you. Once done, throw the phone in any trash bin and you’re done.”
Ethan nodded along, but to be frank, he was considering running. He took another look back, expecting—and hoping—to see Brian, but he only saw two teenagers. One wearing sweatpants, and one wearing jeans and a dark hoodie with the cap covering most of his features.
This is bad, he thought, shoulders tensing even more than they already were.
Next to him, Edwin came to a stop, which prompted Ethan to look back in front of him.
They had left Broadway street a while back through an alley, and they had walked toward the creek for a few minutes and now, they were standing in front of a warehouse of some sort. Edwin nodded toward a small door. “In there.”
Ethan gazed at the metallic door, then at the larger one a few paces away. A tall, rusted truck-sized roll up garage door. He glanced toward the two youth walking to them, and his stomach twisted.
“He’s not coming.”
It was like a punch in the gut that he’d already been waiting for. Ethan almost gave himself away, but he still managed to ask and as the words left his mouth, he knew the gig was up. “Who?”
Edwin smirked right as a tall young man wearing a white-medical mask and flannel shirt stepped out of the opened door. “If you go, Ethan,” he said, then on cue, the guy in the doorway flashed a gun tucked in his jean’s waistband.
Ethan felt the blood drain out of his limbs and face. A wave of nervous, panicky energy lit up in his guts, but the metallic sheen of the weapon forced his feet to stay glued to the cement under them.
How am I going to get out of this? I’m supposed to be in high school. What am I doing here?
Edwin stepped past the still frozen Ethan. “Bring him in and lock the door.”
Someone shoved Ethan from behind, and he stumbled and looked back. The two teenagers he noticed earlier were already here, and both had confident smiles on their face, while the flannel-wearing young man kept his demeanor even.
What the fuck do I do?
Another shove, and Ethan found himself stepping into a dark, dusty garage smelling of car oil and rust. But no sooner than the doorway was behind him than a fist clocked him in the side of the head.
Ethan fell down on his knees but he couldn’t stay down. He stumbled up to his feet almost instantly, only for a kick to take his leg from under him. His palms hit the oily ground hard as he tried to catch himself, and another kick got him in the guts.
As Ethan lay groaning, blood roaring in his ears, Edwin loomed over him, while one of his goons went and got a chair.
“Do you know what we do to rats, Ethan?”
Another goon caught Ethan by the collar and dragged him up. Already woozy from the punch to the head and still trying to catch his breath, Ethan felt the collar of his t-shirt dig into his throat and he choked, but a moment later he was released and shoved against the wall..
Ethan felt dust and blood in his mouth, so he spat to the side and glared up. “Fuck you.”
One of the goons stepped forward, but Edwin raised a hand.“You opened the bag, Ethan. You talked. You were being followed. Who did you tell about this? Tell me, and I’ll let you walk out of here alive. You’ll be punished, but you’ll live.”
Ethan panted, grimacing with the pain still pulsing on the side of his head. He looked around, for an exit, for anything, but he saw nothing.
“Speak.”
Ethan swallowed, then took a deep breath. A deep sense of calm filled his chest, and the fear took a step back. In a way, he felt as if he was back in that kitchen. Only this time, he kinda put himself in the situation. He’d made mistakes, but he’d asked for help, and he tried his best. He came up short, but he didn’t feel too bad about it. And if he was going to die here, he might as well go on his own terms because even though Ethan knew he wasn’t the smartest or brightest, he was smart enough to know Edwin would not simply let him go.
He was either about to die, or he was about to be under so much scrutiny he’d have to ask permission to use the restroom.
Ethan looked up at the unblinking blue eyes, at the small smile on the corner of Edwin’s lips, and his own nostrils flared.
“Look how mad he is,” Edwin said, tilting his head back. The goons laughed, and Ethan felt the sound wash over him. He had only eyes for his roommate. And he had an idea.
Ethan closed his eyes and exhaled, then spoke. “Can I stand?”
“Hm? Sure. Why not? But you got five seconds to tell me who you talked to, or you’re getting back down.”
Ethan pushed himself off the ground, slowly, and felt his strength fill his limbs. There was a heady sensation in his mind, but it wasn’t anything like that fateful night. Back then, it had been sheer panic. Fear. This time, Ethan felt numb. Clear-headed, in a way. Detached. And if something was going to happen to him, he might as well get his licks in.
“It was Clariss.”
Ethan had the pleasure to see the brows scrunch up, and for a precious moment, he saw the confidence and bravado slip up, but it didn’t last long. As Edwin regained his mental footing, Ethan took a step forward that instantly turned into a lunge and swung.
His fist slammed into Edwin’s nose with a satisfying crunch, and it was as if a fire was ignited in his chest as a scream escaped his throat. Edwin fell back, rolling from his chair, and Ethan jumped after him and swung again, catching him above the ears, then again on his bloodied nose.
Fucking scumbag.
Edwin’s teeth were bared, a savage look in his eyes as he roared something, but Ethan couldn’t hear him over his own scream and… laughter?
Hands grabbed him and wrenched him back, and something caught him in the jaw, sapping his vision to the side, but not before he got a good kick somewhere. Ethan thrashed, ready to jump on Edwin again, uncaring of the goons around him when there was a loud pop and ring in his ears, instantly followed by an unimaginable pain in his side. As if he’d just been stabbed with a hot poker.
Ethan’s lips stretched in a wide grin as his knees slammed into the ground and as he took in the bloodied face of a panicked Edwin. Not so confident anymore.
At least I gave him a bloodied nose. Heh.
Ethan let himself fall on the hard ground. The pain was screaming in his side, and his vision was already dimming. He thought he’d feel fear but he was surprised he wasn’t feeling much. A bit of relief maybe. Tiredness. Would there be something after this?
He closed his eyes. Or maybe they’d already been closed. He couldn’t tell. And before sleep took him, Ethan wondered how different his life could have been if he’d been born in a different family.
***
Awareness came back to Ethan first through sound. A beeping noise. Continuous. At first, from afar, but with every second—or minute—it was growing closer.
The second sensation was pain. Not in his stomach, where he expected it, but throughout his body. It was as if all of his joins had gone stiff from sleeping on the cement floor.
Wait… this is too soft to be cement.
Ethan tried to open his eyes, but it was as if they’d be glued together. It took the better part of five minutes until he managed to pull them apart, and he saw white. A bed. Bare walls.
Hospital?
Then sleep took him again.
***
The next time Ethan woke up, he managed to open his eyes a lot faster.
Huh. I didn’t die.
Gingerly, he touched the spot where he got shot and found it barely painful. He tried to get up, but after a couple of tries, the room began turning upside down so he decided to lay still and wait.
The beeping continued, filling the silence as Ethan stared up at the ceiling.
He didn’t die. And he wasn’t as happy about it as he thought he would be. He wasn’t sad either. His emotions just felt… muted.
I have a problem, I think.
Over the next minutes—maybe even hours—Ethan just stared up and listened to the sounds that reached him. Some people occasionally talked outside, but they were too muffled for him to hear much. Still the images kept coming at him, from when he got shot, and one last thought wouldn’t leave his mind.
What if…
What if he’d been born in another family? Would any of this have happened? Would he be playing video games and having crushes like he’d seen in the movies?
Would someone be here for me?
Ethan felt his eyes burn as the silence of the room grew unbearable. He tried to swallow down the lump in his throat, but his chest started shaking, and the tears came flooding out. Images of strangers he was left with. His home and bed he was forced to leave. His mom reading stories to him in that same bed, when she was in the mood.
The door clicked, and Ethan stilled. He turned his head, and blinked the tears out of his eyes to see, only to find a wide-eyed Luther with a magazine in hand, frozen with his hand on the door. The man’s face split into a wide smile and he let go of the door and came in.
“You’re up! How are you feeling?”
Ethan stared until he was forced to blink, and when he opened his mouth to speak, only a rasp came out.
“Oh. Take it easy. That’s my bad. You don’t have to talk. Take your time.”
Ethan watched as Luther dragged a chair in a practiced manner and sat down, a big smile still on his face. Then the smile disappeared and the man frowned. “Ethan. That was a fucking stupid plan.”
Ethan barked out a laugh that came out as a series of coughs, and the man’s grinned and patted him on the knees. “I’m glad you’re okay, kid.”
Soon after, Ethan fell back asleep, and the next time he woke up, he found Luther still around. He learned that he’d been in a coma, and that it had been close to three months since he’d gotten shot, which explained why everything in his body was painful.
Edwin Davis had disappeared overnight, and he was officially a wanted criminal, but no one had heard or seen anything from him.
“Don’t worry about all that. For now, we gotta get you back on your feet and… uh… sorry. I shouldn’t have let you put yourself in danger like that. In hindsight… that was all bad. But we’ll figure all this stuff out as we go.”
Ethan could only agree as he ate through his jello. There was a lot to ask about and figure out, especially what had happened in the group home but for now, he had to get through the disgusting jello and get back to sleep and he closed his eyes, he realized he felt a bit better about having survived.
There might be stuff worth living for.
Comments
Elinar Godly
I like the line but it must be from another novel :D, went and checked and couldn't see it in chapter 62. It's actually a great line to put at the end of 62 before the flashback chapters. Something like: "Ethan sees Davis and dark memories rush to the surface. 'That Fucker left me to bleed out!'" I feel like him rushing is setting up for a fight rather than a flashback. At the end of the day its personal preference. Some will prefer my suggestion other the way Cal has done it so far. Hence why its a suggestion, can't please everyone :)
guillaume nguyen
I see the appeal, but I gotta say that seeing Ethan charging with the line 'that fucker left me to bleed out' has quite a good impact too.
guillaume nguyen
His Juggernaut Path was already well established before the Integration. If you die, gonna go down swinging !!! I'm curious about the fate of all those involved. Were Clariss and her husband removed from children program and arrested ? Did that loser Paul lose his job ? (he deserve it) Did the poor kid who was taken by the police innocented ?
calcroissant
Hey Elinar! Good call for sure. Seeing the face and connecting the dots is a good spot to start the flashback. Removes the edge of the cliff a bit. Will take add it to my editing notes. Thanks :)
Elinar Godly
Great stuff Cal. I think the flashback is almost where it should be. Just before the flashback starts we see Ethan charge the asshole which prepares the reader for an epic fight, only to get the flashback. Which I think is why you feel this nagging feeling something is not quite right. I personally would put that "charge" as the begining of the return to the present and instead create a short scene where Ethan sees the asshole, remembering the past as the end of the present and the connection to the flashback. TFTC :)
