If We Dare to Dream (42 page)

Exhausted, legs screaming with pain and hands scratched and bleeding from the slippery and reckless climb up the wash, Andrew saw the broad expanse of the Flatiron directly ahead. His pack felt as though it weighed twice as much as he did, and the rain had soaked his clothing so much that his jeans were now stiff and unyielding. However, he was driven by more than his discomfort. Knowing Jamie and Adam, the two people he cared about most, were up ahead was enough to keep him going.

Low clouds were moving in from the north, and the backside of the ridgeline was already engulfed in a thick bank. He topped the final rise and saw the Flatiron spread out before him. Scanning the horizon briefly, his gaze searched for his brother and Jamie. The wind whipped the heavy rain into his eyes and the cloud cover was thick and gray, blurring his vision and making it difficult to see far.

However, the sudden sound of a cry followed by the sharp retort of a gun spurred Andrew into action. With a muffled roar, he ran in the direction of the shot, eventually finding Adam standing several feet from a tarp and smoldering fire with his handgun dangling from his hand. Too busy scanning the horizon, he did not see Andrew until he dove upon him. Without thinking, Andrew tackled Adam to the ground and slammed his hand against the rock in one swift move. Startled by the sudden attack, Adam lost his tenuous grip on the gun, and it bounced off their small ledge into the saturated dirt. Nevertheless his surprise did not last long. Though Andrew’s pack and soggy clothes had given him more velocity behind his attack, it soon became a liability under an equal opponent.

With surprising speed, Adam threw Andrew off him. Weighed down by wet clothing and the heavy pack, Andrew had no choice but to follow. His brother landed two punches to Andrew’s face before jumping off him and scrambling for the gun. As soon as his hand closed around the grip, he took several more steps back to increase the distance between them. Leveling the barrel at Andrew’s chest, he continued to back away cautiously.

“I saw you turn around,” Adam said accusingly.

Andrew sat up slowly, shrugging off his pack as he regained his footing. Holding his hands out cautiously, he chanced a quick glance behind him. From his vantage point, he could not see inside the tarp but the lack of movement did not bode well.

“I had to find a different route,” he said evenly. “Where’s Jamie?”

Adam continued to back away, and Andrew followed him step for step despite the gun leveled at his chest. Adam watched his approach, his eyes wide with panic and fear. “It was an accident, Andrew. It was all one big giant accident. I just lost control… I never meant to hurt any of them.”

“I don’t understand.” Andrew’s panic grew. “What did you do?”

Adam continued backing away, growing closer to the ledge. He stumbled on a rock, nearly losing his footing, but caught himself and continued to move away. Andrew’s heart was pounding, from exhaustion and fear. Both mingled in his breath until he called out in anguish.

“Adam! What did you do?”

“This is why I wanted you up here. I wanted to tell you everything.”

“I’m here. Now calm down and talk to me, for Christ’s sakes.” Though he never took his eyes from his frightened and unpredictable brother, Andrew’s ears strained to hear for signs of Jamie. The sound of the rain was all he heard, and his fear grew.

“You’ve always taken care of me, and I never gave you enough credit. Ever. But I know what you did for me. No brother should’ve done the things you did. You knew I wasn’t right, all along. You thought the military would help me, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t stop.”

Though Andrew continued to advance on Adam, he gave in and turned his head in the direction of the tarp. That shot he heard. It could not be. There was no movement inside, no sign of Jamie. Panic fueled his steps, and he rushed Adam with no regard for the gun in his hand. Grabbing his collar, he pulled him forward. “What happened here?”

Adam did not struggle, but he still kept his grip on the gun. Pressing it to his temple, he smiled briefly. “It was all a ploy to make sure you came up here. I couldn’t let you try to take the blame for this and needed a witness. You can’t take the blame for me anymore.”

Andrew reached for the gun, but Adam spun away gracefully. He jumped back several more feet. Coming to a stop perilously close to the edge, he stared at Andrew.

“Blame? What blame?”

“What happened in Georgia, Kit, now Jamie… but you knew that already, didn’t you? You’ve always known, even when you didn’t want to admit it.”

Andrew could not answer. In his heart he thought he must have known, but always putting his brother first he could not admit it – not even to himself. The detectives who reopened the case were wrong. All along they had been barking up the wrong tree.

“You did know, didn’t you? You put it all together when you were in prison.”

Andrew shook his head. “No… it’s not true.”

Adam swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing slightly. Rain ran down his face and onto his neck, and Andrew noticed he was shivering with the cold. “It is, Andrew. I’m sorry.”

“You really let me go…” Unable to finish the thought that had tortured him and was now suddenly truth, Andrew bit back the horrible feeling of betrayal and rage.

“I was scared.”

“Scared?” Andrew croaked painfully. “You did these horrible things and let me pay the price for it because you were scared?”

“It was an accident, Andrew. I never meant to hurt her.”

Confused at the sudden change of subject, Andrew bit back his fury. “Hurt who?”

“Jamie… She reached for the gun and it went off.”

Before he could even finish his sentence, Andrew had spun with the intent of seeing for himself what had happened. No sooner had he taken two steps than Adam was calling him back. “It’s done, bro. You’re free. You have your whole life ahead of you, and you don’t have to worry about me anymore.”

Andrew paused and glanced over his shoulder, rage replacing the panic in his heart. “Is she…” He could not speak the words. Feeling as though a knife had pierced his breast, he swallowed hard. The pain was overwhelming, stealing his breath and making words difficult to speak. His voice shook with the weight of all the emotions he had refused to feel for years: agony, horror, despair. His heart was breaking in two. “Adam, did you kill her?”

“I don’t think so.”

It was all too much. With a muffled cry, Andrew felt his knees buckle. He fell to his knees and looked up at his brother. “Why, Adam? Oh God, why?”

“I fucked up,” Adam said, shaking his head. Tears joined the rain running down his face, and the gun slowly lowered to his side. “I’ve ruined everything for you because of my own cowardice. One damn thing after another. I stole your life, and you never once complained. You always took it. The beatings, the jail time… You really were the man of the house, and I failed. I can’t do this to you anymore. I’ll never be as good as you.”

“It’s too late,” Andrew said in a choked voice. “You’ve already done these things. You can’t take them back now.”

Adam nodded. “I know. I’ve got to stop this - end it. I’m broken, and there’s only one way to fix it now.”

He glanced behind him to the edge of the cliff. The rain pounded them both and a cloud cover had rolled in, enveloping them in a thick mist. As Andrew struggled to breathe, Adam turned around and faced the edge, a misty form as shadowed as a specter.

“I love you, Andrew.”

Then he was gone.

Andrew saw his intentions mirrored in his eyes just before he took that final step. With a startled cry, his instincts took over and he lunged just as Adam went over the edge, managing to catch hold of Adam’s collar. Adam’s gurgling matched Andrew’s wounded groan. White hot pain shot up his arm as he caught his brother’s full weight, and he slid several feet toward the edge until his free hand was able to grasp a protruding rock.

An eerie silence fell as Andrew adjusted his balance to prevent himself from following his brother over the edge. His arm and shoulder screamed in agony, the pain forcing his muscles to contract and seize in a vice of anguish nearly as overpowering as the one around his heart. Trying to catch his breath, he glanced over the edge.

“This is not the way to handle it,” Andrew ground out painfully. He held with all his might, fighting back the urge to let his brother fall to his death. Though still reeling from the confession, he held tight.

Despite the mist around them, Andrew could see a ledge slightly to their right and only thirty feet down. If he could make it, Adam would suffer broken bones but at least live. Gritting his teeth against the agony in his heart and arm, he tightened his grip.

“Adam, grab my arm.”

Adam refused to move. He was struggling to breathe, the collar pulled tight around his neck.

“Adam, please! You need to grab my arm. I can’t… I can’t hold you.”

“Let… me… go,” Adam wheezed through clenched teeth.

“No! You grab my arm – grab it!”

Adam’s hands suddenly came up and wrapped around Andrew’s wrist. Andrew groaned as his brother’s full weight shifted, and he ground his teeth tight against the pain.

Pain.

He knew pain. For so long he had stuffed it down, refused to acknowledge it, held it deep within so that he would not feel anything. But now he knew it from the inside out because Jamie had thawed him. With her gentle touch and loving smile, she had awakened his sleeping emotions. And right now he could not determine which pain was worse – his brother’s weight or the cracking of his heart.

A surge of adrenalin met his determination, and with his newfound strength, he began to swing his brother. Adam stared up at him, his eyes half closed against the pouring rain. His grip was tenuous since the rain made Adam’s skin slippery and Andrew’s sweatshirt soggy. Andrew met Adam’s eyes. Unspoken words passed between them. Then finally understanding.

“Don’t you let go, Adam,” he pleaded, his voice breaking. “Please. We can talk about things, straighten all this out.”

Adam smiled again. “You were the best brother a guy could have.”

“Adam, please,” he said softly. His eyes pleaded with his brother. “Please, don’t let go.”

“You know I need to do this. Remember Afghanistan. Remember Brad. It’s mercy.”

“No.”

“Let go for Grandma. She can’t go through this again.”

Andrew paused. She never should have had to go through it the first time. But still, he could not let his brother go. It went against every fiber of his being. “Adam, no.”

“I love you.”

With that, Adam took matters into his own hands and released his grip.

He did not make a sound as he disappeared from sight. The only sound was Andrew’s anguished cry, pleading for Adam.

Flashes of his brother: a two-year-old boy with a black eye, staring up at him adoringly; a frightened five-year-old with his arm in a cast, bravely facing down his mother’s boyfriend, and climbing into bed with him and hugging him tight after a nightmare. They had cleaned each other’s wounds following the drunken altercations with their mother’s male friends. But Adam had taken it hard. Yes, he knew how his brother was affected. Always the blame, no matter how hard Andrew tried to shield him, still tried to shield him. But it was not enough; it was too late. The demons that haunted his brother, the rage that consumed him after their childhood, had turned him into a monster that not even the military could control.

Rolling onto his back, Andrew ground his teeth together and eased his arm across his chest. Squeezing his eyes closed against the pain and the falling rain that mingled with his tears, he lay helplessly in the mud. The reality of Adam’s declaration stunned and shocked him, and he was unable to comprehend it all. His brother was responsible for Kit’s death… Oh God, his brother had taken her life. His brother’s rage-filled face entered his mind, glowering and furious… Hands wrapped around a young girl’s neck… Andrew shuddered, both from the cold and the scenes flashing through his mind.

In the blink of an eye, the happier memories rose: Adam smiling and laughing, riding on the handlebars of Andrew’s bike; riding his horse Bulldog around the barrels as a strong and healthy ten-year-old; a sharp Army kid, graduating from basic training and moving on to advanced training, the AIT. Andrew forced his eyes open to block out the memories, but as he did so he realized the truth. Adam had broken.

Stumbling to his feet, his arm hanging lifelessly by his side, Andrew took one last look down. He was unable to see where Adam had landed, but the solid thump he heard was muffled enough to be barely audible. He did not think there was any way a ledge had broken his fall to the bottom.

A mercy killing, Adam had said. Perhaps it was, no matter how cowardly Adam had become.

“Oh God,” he breathed.

Disbelief, shock and horror caused him to go numb, but his first thought was Jamie. Ignoring the pain in his shoulder and ribs, he stumbled back across the uneven surface to where he had found the campsite. Jamie was in there, though in what condition he was not sure. Not knowing if it was minutes or hours since he had first arrived on the plateau, he stumbled under the tarp and fell to his knees.

As his eyes gradually adjusted to the dimness in the tent, he saw the blood. Large drops and a smear upon a rock, but there was no sign of Jamie. Stumbling back to his feet, Andrew ran several feet and scanned what he could see through the dense clouds. There was no sign of Jamie anywhere. Ears straining, he struggled to listen over the sound of the rain in the hopes of hearing her movement. Where had she gone?