The Dorston Fall [Book I in the Dorston Legacy]

Chapter 39 - Cruel Fates

Every part of Sammy ached and throbbed. His stomach felt like it had been turned inside and out, bruised to the point of collaspe. His swelling face was excruciatingly painful. His eyes had been reduced to slits, through which he could barely see. The metallic taste of blood lingered on his tongue, at the back of his throat, in between his teeth. His heart beat frantically within his chest, pounding against his rib cage. Again and again, it started, and stopped, and squeezed. His breaths came out hard and fast, and just when he thought it was over, the attack started again. 

What is happening to me? He wondered, his fear spiking. His body was in shock. He could come to no other conclusion. It just couldn't deal with the physical tremor of his attack. And what a ferocious attack it was.

Five against one. Unfair. Unjust. Unprovoked. 

He remembered very little. Just the pain, the feel of hardened knuckles slamming into his cheek, into his gut. Everywhere. He saw their faces, grinning and glowing with pleasure and thrill. He shuddered just thinking about it. 

More blood pooled in his mouth. Unable to bear the taste any longer, he turned his head slightly; ignoring the way his neck muscles trembled and twitched, and he spat the horrid mixture out. Tasting sweet, sweet clean air, he gasped; his lungs contracting quickly to keep it in. His body felt heavy once more, just as it did when he was seven; dying from the intense, roaring heat. But now, he felt only cold.

Where is the sun? Where is the light? his voice begged for an answer. But in the solitide of his own mind, there was none to be had. That's when the darkness creeped in. It swarmed quickly around him, choking him. He could feel a chill running over his face, but it didn't chase the shadows away. He couldn't find an anchor, something to bring him back. He felt so helpless. He was suffocating under his own body and there was no one-

"I am not your Lady!" 

All at once, everything became clear. The voice pierced the darkness. It chased the fear, the helplessness away.

It was her. His childhood saviour. Then, just as he had when he was young, Sammy held onto it; pulling himself free of the agony.

He thought inexplicably of Katelyn, of the sun in her hair, of her radiate smile and shining eyes. He thought of her lips, how perfect they tasted, how perfect they felt on his - He thought only of her, and how much she needed him. 

He needed her, too. To be safe and out of harm's reach.

Katelyn. "Katelyn," he murmured aloud. Where are you?

He rolled, stiffly, onto his stomach; biting back a cry when another wave of ache ruptured through him. He slowly brought his legs up, underneath him. Then, with his head to the hard ground, he pushed against it; easing his protesting body upwards.

Sammy heard a gasp, to his left, and paused to look. He knew it was Katelyn. Who else could it be? He opened his heavy eyes just enough to see her staring down at him; tears already welling in her eyes.

I'm not dead yet, he thought, his mouth curving into a timid smile. I'm not dead yet.

---

"He's coming here?" shrilled Gareth, taken completely by surprise by his Master's announcement. "When did he send word?" he asked, lowering his tone slightly. At the corner of his eye, he noticed the girl Princess watching them, intently. 

Drake leaned closer. He too, must have noticed their audience. "Last night. Our employer wishes to meet our...esteemed prisoners. He intends to arrive after dawn and he asks that you and a company of five men meet him in Holbeck."