LIVING IN DARKNESS
the Trilogy
PART THREE: THE ABANDONED
by
WintersRose
Epilogue
THE CHAPTERS
“I’m done, Father.”
With the pronouncement voiced, Anna Phillips
stared openly at the man who stood in front of her – her father, Malachi
Rich – and waited to see what his response would be.
Inside, she felt dead, devoid of anything resembling emotion,
whether happiness or sadness, joy or anger, anything that once made her
human. She held the gun in her
hand, the gun she had used in defense of her country and her ideals but it
was all done now. She could
not do any more, no matter what the cost to herself, to her father, to the
rest of her family.
“We’re done, darling,” Malachi Rich agreed,
though the glint in his eyes was more alive and dangerous than anything
Anna currently felt. The young
woman, dressed in a very business-like a power suit with black skirt, blue
blouse and black blazer, wondered what was going on in her father’s
head. “We’ve done what we
were ordered to do. We’ve
achieved our goals.”
“Oh yes, we achieved our goals,” Anna agreed
as she turned the gun over again. It
was not, at the moment, loaded, though the bullets sat nearby, on top of
the coffee table in front of where Anna sat.
“And what did we lose in return, Father?
What did the gain of our goals get us in the end beside the loss of
everything else we hold dear?”
Malachi’s eyes narrowed dangerously as he
stared at Anna, a disbelieving expression on his face.
“We gained what we lost, Anna,” he exclaimed.
“Montrell is ours once more.
The villains who overran our country will be forced out again now
that we have done what was asked of us.
We can rebuild our country, make life safe again for those who
looked to us for leadership. Have
you forgotten that goal, Anna?”
Anna slammed the gun down, hard, on the tabletop.
It left a slight indentation on the wooden surface as the girl
stood, flinging the table hard to one side, the anger she thought she was
no longer able to feel suddenly flying to the surface.
“I forgot nothing, Father!” she exclaimed.
“In the last years, having to live a life that was a lie, I have
forgotten nothing. I played
the airhead, remember? I did
things no person should be asked to do.
I followed every order you ever gave me.
I acted churlishly, forgoing any sense of honor I ever had for this
goal of ours! How dare you
accuse me of forgetting our goal!? You
have never, not in the last ten years, let me forget it.
When other little girls played with their dolls on the floor and
dreamed dreams of princes coming to rescue them,, you gave me guns and
told me, daily, hourly, of OUR mission, of our goals, of a home I barely
remember that we would one day have again.
“When I kidnapped two young men who meant us no
harm, when I watched as one of them wandered about blindly, struggling to
live a life he should not have had to live, I remembered.
“When I shot a woman in the forest who knew too
much, who was threatening not only us but those with whom we should never
have interfered, I remembered. I
did the deed, Father, not you. I
aimed that gun, shot her and left the boy she kidnapped to find his own
way, because his being found too soon would have ruined your – or their
– precious plan.”
Anna swept away from her father, the anger
leaving her cold inside.
“I remember honor, Father,” Anna whispered.
“Though you tried to raise me without, I remember.
I remember my mother and the stories she told me as a child, of
wars fought, of honor gained, of love and devotion – and all of that you
have taken from us for some dream I no longer believe in.
Father, I can’t and won’t go home with you.
I am staying here. Whatever
life I have – little or none – it is my life and my choice.
I don’t know what was so important about what we had to do.
Distracting those agents, distracting the Hardys, hurting them,
causing harm to innocents – but I should never have fallen in with your
ideas.”
Anna looked away but turned back for a single
instant.
“I hate you Father,” she said softly.
“I hate you very much.”
And she walked away again.
She never felt it when her father took the gun
she had slammed onto the table and slammed it, hard, into her head and she
fell to the ground in a pool of her own blood.
**
** ** ** ** ** ** **
A golden-haired boy lay curled up on the short
bunk in his cell, blue eyes open as he ignored everything going on around
him. His cellmate grunted as
he glared at the younger boy but the boy saw none of it.
Instead, he closed his eyes and saw another blonde-haired boy,
smiling brilliantly, blue eyes filled with sunshine and love.
He had always felt when his cellmate – no, not his cellmate, his
lover, his blonde-haired lover – made love to him, used him willingly
and often. It was not
violation – because it was the lover of the golden-haired boy’s dreams
that he saw and his blonde-haired lover’s name that he whispered, over
and over again…
The golden-haired boy in the cell did not blink
even as he felt the shoelace going around his throat.
He did not struggle as his bunkmate told him his ‘crime’ and
how he was going to die for it.
For the blonde-haired boy of the golden-haired
boy’s dreams turned to him and smiled.
As the world spun dizzily around the golden-haired boy, the
blonde-haired boy – his lover - took his hand and drew him down the
path.
It was far too late when, a moment later, the
bright path grew dark and the blonde-haired boy faded.
As the golden-haired boy died, he had only time to mouth one word.
Joe…
Andrew Derak Mathews was killed by his drugged-up
cellmate during the sixth month of his incarceration at Mira Loma Federal
Penitentiary.
**
** ** ** ** **
A blonde-haired boy sighed once as he rolled over
in his bed and got comfortable again.
As sleep weighed him down he closed his eyes and gave into it.
For the first time since his nightmare began, Joe
Hardy did not dream at all…
THE END
===========
When
I started writing Hardy Boys fan fiction I didn’t know what I was
getting myself into by making up the character of Uncle Derak in the story
“Walking into Darkness”. I
created a monster that I never, actually, meant to let out of the
closet…
Something
about 3 years ago someone asked me a simple question.
“When
are we going to get the ‘Uncle Derak’ story?”
I’m like – never. Nope.
Never. Don’t plan on
covering it more than occasionally in other stories.
But Uncle Derak – and then Andrew – refused to be silenced and
Joe said it had to be told so there it is.
Randi – this is all your fault, woman!
I
have to thank some people – first and foremost JD.
JD
– you are the best beta in the world, a great friend and a first class
nag. You were the single
guiding force in me getting this story done – all three parts.
You kept asking, kept guiding, kept nudging, kept at it and I owe
you more than thanks. I owe
you a huge hug and a great big debt of gratitude.
Alaina
– you are such a constant source of encouragement – where would I be
without you? You’re just
such a classy person. Thanks
for always giving me something to hold onto with this story.
It was great.
To
my readers – you guys were the best.
Each and every single one of you who left feedback gave me a little
more momentum to write more and more on this story – until the monster
was done. Thanks to all of
you.
I
don’t know when I’ll visit my personal universe again.
Maybe some year. For
now I’m going to concentrate on the stories I write with JD as
Love
to you all,
Rokia/Wintersrose
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Disclaimer
The Hardy Boys belong to Simon and Schuster and the Stratemeyer Foundation. The authors have just borrowed them for an adventure or two. The authors promise to put the boys back when they are done with them. The authors do claim copyright to the original characters in this story. Please do not borrow original characters without express permission of the authors.