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“My Dramok, I—”
“Where’s the other one?”
Halmiko flinched at the whipcrack sharpness of Tumsa’s voice. Had he ever seen him do that before? “Doljen’s in the sleeping room. He hasn’t gotten up since we came home after…after…”
The soft pad-pad of footsteps made his words a lie. Doljen appeared in the doorway that led to the rest of the apartment. The circles under his reddened eyes were nearly black. His hair was tangled, his jaw stubbled. He was still wearing his team scrubs, which were rumpled and stained. Some of it looked like blood.
Seeing him in such a state brought Tumsa’s simmering rage to a boil. All the pain that had followed receiving the news of his older brother’s death erupted with ferocity.
“You said you’d watch out for him. You promised me you’d keep him sober! That you’d keep him from hurting himself!”
“We saw him to his room. He swore he was staying in—” Halmiko started.
“He used a dose of Charged to mask what he’d taken—” Doljen spoke over him.
Tumsa’s furious scream drowned them both out. “You knew what he was capable of! Did you want him dead? You might as well have murdered him!”
The words poured in a geyser of maddened anger, incensed loss, and yes, even hatred. In that moment, Tumsa was senseless with frenzied wrath.
All the years he’d devoted to fighting Zakla’s self-destructive impulses. The short golden era of hard-won sobriety that had given Tumsa an all-too-brief glimpse of the man his elder brother was meant to have been. The hope that Zakla’s return to addiction could be overcome, that if they were vigilant, if they could light him to the right path again.
All gone.
Tumsa had no idea how long he ranted at his clanmates. When he ran out of shrieks and accusations for a little while, he stalked past Halmiko, who’d hunched so his hair hid his features; past Doljen, who’d crumpled to the floor, his hands clapped over his eyes and continuous moans issuing from between his clenched teeth. He was uncaring how he’d ripped them apart, hoping they felt some semblance of his agony.
Once he’d caught his breath, Tumsa returned to them to resume his shouted accusations. He charged them with the crimes of which he was just as guilty of. More so! He’d failed, Zakla was dead, and rather than let the fault that was his crush him alone, he showered it on his hapless clanmates until they all were devastated by its weight. Until Doljen fled before Tumsa could destroy him utterly.
* * * *
Present day
“It sounds as if you had a bit of a breakdown.”
Tumsa barked an agonized laugh, disbelief filling him at Bernadette’s sympathetic gaze. “A bit? I went insane. You wouldn’t believe the terrible things I said to them, accusing them of outright murder, stupidity, and worthlessness. I was a monster. An absolute, unforgivable monster.”
He’d ended up sitting next to her on a small couch as he’d spilled the awful story. He was startled when her hand covered his, where it rested on his thigh.
“Grief can make you do crazy things. Guilt mixed with grief? That’s a nasty mix, but I’d hardly say it’s unforgivable.”
“Tell that to Doljen and Halmiko. Be sure to tell me how hard they laugh.”
“I’m not laughing.”
Tumsa and Bernadette jerked. They’d been too absorbed in Tumsa’s tale to hear Halmiko trigger the door and come in.
The Dramok’s stomach churned sickly as he met his clanmate’s gaze. “You’d probably prefer to tear my head off.”
Halmiko sighed and entered the room, allowing the door to shut behind him. Tumsa realized Bernadette must have given him unfettered access to her quarters. He wondered if Doljen had figured out she was sleeping with him.
He banished such random musings to pay attention to the Nobek who’d crouched before him so they could gaze eye-to-eye.
Halmiko’s smile was a pained grimace. “If I rip your head off, mine has to go too. We’re both responsible when it comes to what happened with Doljen. Which reminds me, you’re owed a free punch. Let me have it.”
“After what I did? What I said? You should have hit me harder. I lost us our Imdiko.” He quaked with the avalanche of regret that tumbled through him.
“We lost him, Tumsa. I told you I only let Zakla play because Doljen okayed it. I pinned the blame on our clanmate, when I was equally responsible for Zakla’s death.”
“Good God, when will you get it through your thick skull, Hal?Zaklawas responsible for his death.” Bernadette threw the hand not holding Tumsa’s in the air. “Zakla drank the alcohol. Zakla took the drugs. Zakla covered up he’d taken the drugs. Zakla decided to play though he no doubt knew he was putting himself in danger. I’ve seen professional kurble. How injuries per game? A lot. How many deaths per season? Half a dozen, right?”
