Read Online Jump: The Fallen: Testament 1 by Steve Windsor - Free Book Online

her back, this is old news. She’s. . .”
    I can’t even say the word. Couldn’t say it to the compliance therapist either. Neither could anyone else in that pointless pity-party they called grief relief. “Passed away” . . . “moved on” . . . “better place,” my ass. Growing up, having friends, falling in love—that’s a better place! Body in a garbage bin and then burned to ashes is no place for a kid.

— XVII —

    “HE’S RIGHT, YOU know,” Dal said to Life. Then he smiled at the gallery. “Doing that to children, it is shameful.”
    “You cannot believe this,” Life said. “You think she would fare better in the lake of fire?”
    Dal cawed a little, chuckling. “How is she faring?”
    “She is fine,” said Life. “She’s . . . special. And she is loved.” She left her response at that.
    “Are we not all special?” said Dal. “Ah, to have lived life and loved.” He said it that way on purpose. “Well, how marvelous for her. It is a wonderful warmth, I know. However, he loves her. What consideration does that warrant?”
    “He can choose to be with her again.”
    Dal frowned. “He has chosen.”
    “I give unto him eternal life,” she said. “Should he choose, he shall never perish.”
    “Yet, no man shall pluck himself from under your hand,” Dal said. “Unless they have rewritten it again, I believe that is still forbidden, correct? So many rules. There really is no way for them to obey all of them, you know.”
    “They must simply pursue the path laid before them.”
    “Your path is rife with quicksand,” said Dal. “You realize, they forged their own kingdoms with the iron of your words. Words so complicated and rules so vast that no man can hope to understand them, much less obey their covenants. They enact laws and enforcement exactly as you do. And when they break them—stumble as men do—they suffer, many times greatly. But you . . . you offer them the severest punishment of all. You give them to me. How are you able to. . .? Had I not lived to see it. . .”
    Life’s silence conveyed the truth. And before she could find a convenient explanation—
    “Yes, I suspected as much,” said Dal. “Shall we proceed, then? This one should not be overly difficult.”

— XVIII —

    IF THERE IS someone watching, they aren’t listening, because I endure Amy’s screaming until it stops. But when I open her door, I’m sucked through and then I’m falling again. This time, face down, watching the ground rocket up at me.
    I try to close my eyes, but I can’t. Apparently, I have to watch myself splatter. Whoever it is, they’ve got a sick sense of humor. This fast . . . won’t be pretty. It won’t last long either. I imagine everything going black.
    What did you think this would look like?
    By now, I know that’s not a voice in my head. Well, it is . . . but it’s not mine.
    “Show yourself,” I say, “coward son of a bitch!”
    Then I smell it. A putrid, coppery scent of decay, but also a hint of . . . syrup? And baking cookies? But for some reason both of them smell like the overpowering aroma of . . . death.
    Then everything gets dark, and the rain is coming down hotter now, and there is fire in the sky. And I close my eyes, because the heat is oppressive, but really, it’s because I’m afraid to look. If this is who I think, it’s just . . . not possible. Everything else is gonna feel like lube. This will be the final ass-raping in a world that is truly fucked.
    Then everything stops. No more fall and no more rain. Just darkness and flames in the sky. And then he’s just . . . there.

    “Bitch,” he says. “Very colorful . . . however, my mother. . . Hmm, let’s just say. . . There really is no way to prepare you for it, is there? Ah, spoiling the surprise, like telling your children about Santa Claus, I imagine. Makes me positively . . . giddy.”
    His voice sounds like a grandfather. But the sound is loud and feels like it’s coming from inside my