Generation 2: Chapter 7

 

Uriah’s POV

Ever since I took Cora out on the date and discovered who her father was, I had stopped all forms of communication with her, mainly due to the fact that I was scared witless of what her father would do to my family. It made me wonder if she knew who he was. If she knew the things he did and controlled.

Multiple unread text messages and missed calls filled up my phone, all from Cora. The worst part of this whole ordeal was that I felt like she had the potential to become someone important to me.

A few weeks had passed since the night I first took Rowan out with me. I could tell that the man’s death was taking his toll on him. He had dark circles under his eyes, and staggered along as if he was always fatigued. He reminded me of a zombie.

Despite it all, he still insisted I take him out on assignments with me. He refused to carry a gun, though. Not that I blamed him. Every time I attempted to hand him the gun, he would wince as if the cool metal burned his skin.

Now, though, it had been a few days since our last late night outing. I could finally rest, though sleep wasn’t the easiest thing to come by. I stared up at the ceiling, hoping that sleep would overtake me.

Of course, it never did.

A light illuminated my room, and I turned over to my nightstand to see that I’d gotten a text from Cora. Honestly, I wasn’t about to check it, but something seemed off about it. Why would she be sending me something so late?

I looked down at the most recent text she sent and all the blood drained from my face. He knows.

He knows I didn’t kill those men. He knows that I left them alive.

Help us.

The text message was rushed, panicky. From her other texts, I could tell that she made sure to keep her grammar as precise as possible, and this indicated urgency.

But, why would he harm his own child?

“Where would he keep her,” I thought aloud. She didn’t exactly give many specifics, though I couldn’t really blame her.

Eventually, I came to the conclusion that her house would be a good place to start my search, so I decided to head there. I changed out of pajama pants, and made my way downstairs, where I found Rowan waiting for me, already dressed.

“You’ve got to stop doing that.”

“You seem to forget that the attic is right under my room. I can hear most every move you make. Where are we going now?”

“I don’t want you going with me. This is something I’ve got to do on my own, and honestly I don’t think, for you well-being, it’d be a good idea for you to go,” I said.

“That’s stupid. So where?” Rowan said, in a monotone voice, rolling his eyes at the same time.

—————————-

When we arrived at the Anderson house, there wasn’t a soul, or light, in sight. I took out my gun and held it at my side, and pulled another out of my jacket.

“Here,” I said to Rowan, holding the gun out to him. He looked at it for second and shied away.

“I don’t need it.”

“Listen, I don’t give a damn if you think you need it or not, you’re going to take it,” I said in reply to his comment. I shoved the gun in his hand, and he gripped his fingers around it. His facial expression was pained, and I almost felt bad about making him carry it. “You head around back, I’ll check the front. ”

Rowan nodded and headed towards the back of the house while I made my way to the front. Everything seemed normal. I checked the door, only to discover it was locked.

“Dammit,” I muttered, even though I knew I shouldn’t have expected it to be open. I leaned against the door in frustration. It was then something caught my eye.

I walked towards the mysterious object, only to discover it was a note.

It was in Cora’s handwriting, though it much sloppier than I remembered.

“This must be where they are,” I whispered. I took out my phone and called Rowan.

“I know where they are,” I said when he picked up.

——————————–

13 Juan Ponce de Leon Drive turned out to be a small house that looked like a box. I began to approach the box house, but was stopped by Rowan.

“Are you sure about this?” He asked, his facial expression suspicious. “I mean, what if he’s put her up to this? Huh?”

I shook my head at his doubt. “Cora would never do that. I just know.”

“Fine. ‘Just know’ that if your girlfriend set us up, it’s your fault.”

“She’s not my girlfriend!” I exclaimed, though quickly covered my mouth with my hand. Rowan shook his head, but I could see the ghost of a smile on his lips, and motioned for me to continue.

We held our guns in front of us, and approached the house hesitantly. After a few seconds of waiting, I opened the door, poised in the position to fire if needed, only to find a small empty room with only a staircase leading down. I eye the stairs for a second and glance at Rowan. He gives a slight nod in return, and I take that as a ‘go for it’.

I quietly creep down the stairs with Rowan right behind me, and came upon a blindingly white hallway. We descended slowly down the hallway and came to a door on the side. Thankfully, the door held a window on it, and inside I saw Cora and Lars.

“They’re in there,” I whispered to Rowan. He nodded. I grabbed at the door knob, trying desperately to get it to budge, though the effort was fruitless.

“I got this,” Rowan whispered, and kicked the door open with a kick so swift I almost missed it. The opened door revealed another empty, white room with Cora and Lars sitting on the floor, huddled close. They both looked up at the noise, and Cora’s mouth turned into a relieved grin.

“Uriah,” She croaked. Her voice was hoarse, as if she had been screaming for a long time. I rushed over towards the twins.

“We need to go. Now,” I said. Lars looked at me and nodded. He stood up, though I could see him wince with every movement his body made.

“Come on, Cor,” Lars said lovingly to his sister. Cora nodded and tried her hardest to stand up, but we all knew by the effort she was making that she wasn’t strong enough. Lars tried to help her, but almost fell down with her.

“I got her,” I said. I crouched down in front of her and gathered her over my shoulder. She hung somewhat limply, like a wet noodle.

“Guys, we need to go,” Rowan said as he stood beside the door. “Like now.”

Quickly we tried our hardest and fastest to get ourselves out of the room, I with Cora on my shoulder, and Lars struggling to walk behind.

“It seems clear, let’s go,” Rowan said. He exited the room, with the rest of our group trailing behind. It was then that a gun shot went off.

I pulled my gun from my jacket, a hard feat to do with Cora on me, and frantically ran out of the room. The sight before my eyes was almost unbearable.

Rowan laid on the ground, a large, bright bullet wound in the middle of his forehead.

I didn’t think, I just reacted, and turned towards thesource of the bullets, which turned out to be a man that had just come down the staircase. My aim wasn’t great, but I shot enough times and in enough places that when the man crumpled to the ground, it would have been a miracle if he hadn’t died the minute he hit the ground.

Cora quietly slid off my back which allowed me to go to my wounded brother. I dropped the gun and knelt before him.

“Oh my God, Rowan,” I whispered, half in shock, half in guilt. His breathing was shallow, and his eyes moved without direction, as he wasn’t seeing what everyone else was.

“It’s….Okay….Love…you…” He muttered out before his shallow breathing ceased and his eyes looked their last.

“No…No…No!” I said over my brother’s body. I looked back at Lars and Cora, though they didn’t meet my eyes.

“Mr. de Marco, these are the things that happen when you don’t do as your told,” A voice said. All three of us looked up to see Clarke Anderson, Cora and Lars’ father and my ‘boss’.

“Why Papa?!?!”Cora shouted frantically. She had managed to pull herself up, though she still held against the wall for support. “Why do you do this? This is sick and twisted!”

“A female wouldn’t understand. I had hoped to pass this family business, as it were, to my boy Lars when he got older, but it seems he was too weak.”

Lars’ facial expression didn’t change, but I could tell he was furious by the fire that shone in his eyes.

“What does it mean to be strong, then” He shouted, gathering strength from adrenaline. “Does mean you have to kidnap your own children to use as bait?!?”

“Such a pity,” Clarke said, genuine disappointment in his eyes. “So weak. Men, get them.”

His men began to come towards us, and by that time, I was sure we were done for. Out of nowhere, a gun shot went off, and one by one the approaching men fell. I looked back to see Cora standing on shaky legs with the gun I had dropped in her hands.

With all the men down, she now held aim at her father. He stood wide eyed in front of us, sweat beginning to bead along his brow.

“Cora, sweetheart, let’s discuss this,” He said quickly, trying to remedy this situation.

“No Papa,” She said. Her finger pulled the trigger, a shot went off, and Clarke Anderson fell dead to the ground.

Cora stood triumphant for a few moments until she realized what she had done.

“Oh my God, oh my God,” She repeated. She held her eyes closed, as if she was trying to wake up from nightmare.

I looked down at my little brother. He was growing colder by the minute.

“This is my fault,” I whispered. Tears began to fall down my face. I let them come.

————————————————-

911 arrived a half an hour later. Apparently someone had heard gunshots. The three of us managed to convince the police that we were not the ones to blame here, though I’m not sure how the hell we managed to do that since the only one able to speak in coherent sentences was Lars.

Daddy and Rosi hugged me tightly when I got home, with Lars and Cora in tow. We all broke down in the middle of the parlor. Lars and Cora stood off to the side, having their own little breakdown.

Rowan’s funeral was two days later. My family was all in attendance, including Cora and Lars. We had asked for them to live with us, which they quickly agreed to, though actually, it was to move with us, since we had decided to move to a nice town called Appaloosa Plains.

I didn’t cry, just like at Mama’s funeral. I had cried so much in the past few days that I was sure I had no tears left.

We buried him right next to her. It seemed fitting.

Rosi, Archer, and Daddy stood in their own little huddle, while I stood alone directly in front of where my brother lay.

I suddenly felt a hand touch my back, and I look over to see Cora, a somber look on her face. She pulls me into a hug, and it is then I begin to cry. She doesn’t say anything, just holds me. Maybe it’s better not to be alone.

A few days later, I visit my brother again for the last time before we leave.

I hope he forgives me.