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“Noah … don’t.”
“I have to,” he nearly snapped, yanking himself from her vise grip. “My parents …”
“OH, NOOOOAHHHHH!”
Becca reluctantly let him go, but not without first giving his hand a rough squeeze and a heeded warning.
“Please come back to me.”
Noah took one last look at the love of his life. Her eyes were glossed over, her face one of wretched anguish. It was likely the same expression she’d worn for months and years after he’d left her.
The thought was like a knife through his heart.
“Come and get yourCOMEUPPANCE, LITTLE CUB!”
He was going to do it right this time. He was going to doeverythingright.
Noah took Becca’s face between his hands and kissed her hard. She tilted back in surprise. When they parted, Becca was breathless. A single tear cascaded down her cheek. He kissed it away and smiled.
“I promise.”
His fingers slipped from hers, warm and inviting, turning away from the sunlight of his life. He told his parents to stay inside, along with her, and he pushed the door open and stepped into the fateful chilly air.
“OH, THE PRINCE EMERGES!”
A light dusting of snow had fallen from the sky during the night, coating the ground and huts of the village like a mystical dream. The sun beamed high, resting between thin sheets of clouds as if to spotlight the fight that was about to commence.
Noah stood in his bare feet, the light trickling of frost prickling his toes. He felt the cold all around him, as if he was being protected by some invisible force. His entire body vibrated with acute focus, narrowing in on the man before him who held his destiny in his clumsy hands.
It had been some time since Noah and Dustin had last fought. And time had been unkind to Dustin in matters of aesthetics and likely, judging by his appearance and the tales of his disapproving clan, even more unkind to his dissipating psyche. He stood in only boxer shorts, arms splayed out in a maniacal embrace, his expression that of a grim and nightmarish clown.
“Noah, Noah,” he spoke, voice dim and scraggly from deranged screaming. “Good God, how I have missed you, my sweet friend.”
Dustin was several years older than Noah, but the way his dirty blonde locks stood on end, combined with the deep pits and the shade of bruises under his eyes, he could have aged two or three decades. His eyes sat sunken like hollow pits, the smallest splinter of light reaching up from the depth of hell.
None of these observations intimidated Noah in the slightest. But what he feared most was the willingness to abandon the respect and admiration of one's clan for the sake of an old dispute. A feud between them was tragic but unintentional.
Noah pulled his shirt off as Dustin continued to babble, the chilled air biting at his skin. People from Lev’s clan had begun to gather around, halting their daily routines to observe what was sure to be a harrowing battle.
“It was all an accident, Dustin,” Noah said evenly. “You know that. Mitch never wanted to hurt your son. He wasn’t even the one with the gun. I told you this years ago, but you were stubborn back then and are still stubborn now.”
He might as well have been talking to the wall. Dustin clawed at himself, leaving long pink lines along the brittle bones that rested under the rice paper skin. Noah was starting to feel sorry for him.
“I’m still remembering, is what you mean, correct?” Dustin roared. “Your fucking idiot brother did not get what he deserved. Now fate will make both you and your mate suffer for it.”
There was no point in trying to make any dealings with the lunatic. Noah simply nodded and shucked his pants.
“Have it your way then,” he muttered.
The crowd had grown twofold. Noah heard rumblings, some frenzied and excited, while others expressed palpable concern.
He wouldn’t let any of it get to him.
“It’s time to meet your maker.” Dustin let out the same deafening shriek as earlier. It seemed to shatter the sound barrier of every person observing, nearly puncturing Noah’s eardrums.
“Fuck!”
Noah felt like his head was being squished like a watermelon between the jaws of life. The clan that watched them cried out in sharp pain while Noah briefly wrapped his palms around his head, attempting to soothe the pointed torture. It then began to feel like a blunt tool was being inserted into his ear, ready to pierce the wall between his skull and brain.
