The Betrayal

The world was a kaleidoscope of grey and steel. Caleb stumbled toward the living room. The floor was tilting.

"Run, little rabbit!" Simon shouted, laughing.

The lights went out. Simon had cut the breaker.

Caleb navigated by the lightning flashes. He needed a weapon. He didn't pick up the knife. He grabbed a heavy brass sculpture from the side table.

He heard Simon breathing in the dark. *Hhh-uhhh. Hhh-uhhh.*

"I'm coming for you, Cal! Fight me!"

Caleb scrambled toward the sliding glass doors to the balcony. The lock. Where was the lock?

His fingers fumbled with the latch. It clicked.

He threw the door open. The storm hammered him instantly. The wind howled, deafening and cold. The rain slashed his face, momentarily sharpening his senses.

He stepped out onto the sleek, rain-slicked decking.

Simon lunged from the darkness of the living room.

He tackled Caleb. They hit the wet wood hard. The brass sculpture skittered away.

Simon was stronger, heavy with muscle, but Caleb was fighting for his life. They rolled toward the edge. The railing was glass—invisible in the dark.

Simon pinned Caleb down, his hands around Caleb’s throat.

"Do it!" Simon screamed over the wind. "Kill me! Prove you're worth saving!"

Caleb gagged, clawing at Simon’s face. He bucked his hips, throwing Simon off balance.

Simon slid on the wet wood. He tumbled backward.

He went over the edge of the decking, where the glass railing ended and the cliff began.

Simon flailed, his hand slapping against the wet timber.

Caleb lunged forward and grabbed him.

He caught Simon’s wrist.

They froze. Simon dangled over the abyss, the jagged rocks five hundred feet below illuminated by a flash of lightning. Caleb lay on his stomach, gripping Simon’s arm with his scarred hand.

The rain washed over them.

Simon looked up. He wasn't afraid. He was smiling. His eyes were wide with ecstasy.

"You caught me," Simon shouted. "You need me, Caleb! Pull me up! We finish this together!"

Caleb looked down. He looked at Simon’s face—the face of the man who had controlled every aspect of his life, who had drugged him, who had terrorized him.

Then he looked at his own hand. The scar tissue was white and stark against his wet skin. The "Iron Kiss."

* The Betrayal shall spill the blood.*

Simon thought the betrayal was Caleb killing him in a fight. But the real betrayal was simpler.

It was Caleb realizing he didn't need Simon.

"No," Caleb whispered.

He opened his fingers.

Simon’s eyes went wide. The smile vanished, replaced by a look of genuine, childlike confusion.

"Cal?"

Caleb pulled his hand back.

Simon fell silently into the dark.