The Crumbling Dam

Wind battered Reagan as he left the cover of the short buildings and approached the embankment. The reflection of a white streak of lightning danced over ripples in the lake. Roaring thunder vibrated in Reagan’s bones.

He caught a glimpse of purple between sheets of rain and ran towards it.

“Do you see anything?” he asked as he approached. His throat hurt with every question he yelled, and he coughed. The rain covered up the sound. Surely he wouldn’t have gone down in this weather…

“Not yet,” Elisa said. She crouched at the edge, gripping the battered rock with both hands as she leaned forward, craning to see anything along the shore. “If he went down, it would be impossible for him to get back up from there…”

“I’ll go check,” Liam said.

While Liam dropped easily through the air, unbothered by the rain, Reagan squinted at the black waters. If he’s in there… He didn’t let himself finish the thought.

Instead, he said, “Maybe he’s back at the inn or at Aislinn’s.” His hope sounded weak, even to him.

“He could be sheltering at a friend’s,” Elisa said, sounding marginally more convinced of that possibility. “Waiting out the worst of the rain. Maybe one of the townspeople is trying to find Aislinn to let her know.” She cast a look over her shoulder as though hoping to find this imaginary person.

Reagan nodded, but the knot in the pit of his stomach didn’t unravel. He watched Liam float along the shoreline, staying low to the ground to increase his chances of seeing the boy. “I’ll go check in with Aislinn,” he said. “Just in case.”

Elisa stood faster. “You’ll get lost. I’ll go.”

Reagan offered no protest. He turned to watch Elisa disappear between two homes, then returned his attention to Liam, who was reaching the middle of the lake’s curve. He had passed the last of the marketplace stalls and was flying over the shallow end of the water.

Please don’t let Braiden be there, Reagan thought. He feared the moment Liam would look up and let him know he’d found the boy in the waves.

Unable to remain still, Reagan stood and turned around. All the stalls had disappeared from the marketplace, but two caravans remained.

He aimed for them, noting as he approached that their cloth coverings had been shredded by the storm. Large drops pattered down onto the hollow wood, adding to the constant cacophony of the rain.

Reagan stuck his head into the first caravan, and he waited for a lightning strike to confirm it was empty. Not a single box occupied the space, leaving nowhere for a little boy to hide. The same proved true of the second caravan.

He crawled underneath each one, hoping that perhaps Elisa hadn’t thought to do so, and Braiden was taking shelter in the small, dark space.

No luck.

Reagan checked the tether attached to his wrist, noting the downward trajectory, and continued to the other end of where the marketplace usually set up, praying he’d find another hiding spot.

He’d only taken a few steps forward when the tether jerked upward, and he turned to see Liam rushing toward him. The terrified look on Liam’s face revealed what he’d found before he could open his mouth.

“I don’t know if he’s alive,” Liam said, eyes wide, mouth pulled into a worried grimace. Reagan caught a glimpse of his face before Liam turned around to lead him. “Where’s Elisa?” the ghost said, looking all around the embankment.

“She went back to the inn to check if Braiden had returned,” Reagan said. He reached the edge of the embankment and crouched. At first, he tried to find footing, but he quickly gave up and used the rain-soaked ground to his advantage. He slid most of the way down before getting caught on a rock and tipping forward. The ground rushed up to meet him, and he couldn’t catch himself fast enough on the slippery slope. He hit his chin hard on a sharp rock. Warm blood trickled down the side of his jaw and neck, but he didn’t have time to care about it.

Reagan could barely breathe around the weight on his chest. He scrambled to his feet.

It wasn’t the rain that made his entire body go cold.

Liam led him to the dam, and as they approached, Reagan saw the upper portion of it had collapsed. The stone had crumbled over the soaked logs and sandbags, obscuring the temporary repairs. His breath hitched.

Please be alive. He repeated the words over and over as he squinted to see the little boy beneath the rubble.

“Down here,” Liam said. Lightning burst over his head.

A small hand lay limply atop the muddy ground, palm down. It was all Reagan could see, but he knew without a doubt that it belonged to Braiden.

He swore his own heart stopped beating in his chest.

“Go find Elisa.” The words came out in his voice, but he didn’t feel himself saying them.

With a shaking hand, he reached for Braiden’s wrist and prayed he would feel something. As he touched the little boy’s hand, it twitched, closing around a purple seashell.

He’s alive.

He couldn’t linger in the relief. With numb hands, he yanked one large chunk of stone after another off the pile. They clattered somewhere behind him. One landed at the edge of the lake, splashing loud enough to be heard over the rain.

Please be okay, Liam, he thought to the little boy under the rocks, his vision blurring with memories of the past. Don’t die like this. He couldn’t forget the glassy look in those pale blue eyes, and he prayed never to see that again.

Elisa appeared beside him as though materializing from the rain. “Is he…?” she asked, her voice shaking. She reached for a large slab of rock and Reagan grabbed the other side, helping her pull it off.

“He’s alive,” he said. But I don’t know for how much longer. He didn’t let himself voice the grim thought.

As they worked on the pile, Reagan saw that one of the slabs was positioned horizontally across two vertical ones, and it had supported most of the weight of the pile. The space beneath it was hollow, with only small pieces of debris scattered across Braiden’s back and neck. Pebble-sized pieces dusted his hair and the side of his face, partially submerged in the mud.

Reagan let out a shaky sigh of relief and thanked the stars above that Braiden had avoided being crushed by the worst of the debris. He and Elisa reached under either side of the horizontal slab and, awaiting a signal from Liam who could see when they were properly positioned, they lifted the slab off Braiden.

The vertical slab that was furthest from the dam fell, but it dropped away from Braiden, landing in the mixture of sand and mud with an inaudible thud. Reagan felt its vibrations only millimeters from his toes.

The little boy’s legs were pinned directly under several large slabs of stone. He and Elisa moved as many as they could, then he wedged his arms under Braiden’s armpits while Elisa lifted and cradled his head, and together they pulled him free of the rest.

As they moved him out of the way of the dam, Reagan saw blood on the rock where Braiden’s head had been resting. They flipped him over, clearing the dirt and debris from his face, and Elisa pressed the sleeve of her undershirt against a gash in Braiden’s temple while Reagan stripped off his coat to cover the shivering boy.

“He’s still bleeding,” she said. She pulled her hand away long enough to check, and even in the dim light, Reagan saw her sleeve was soaked in blood. Her face pulled into a worried grimace, and she bunched her dress up to press more fabric into the wound. “We have to find a way to stop it.”

“We’ll take him to the physician,” Reagan said.

He reached under Braiden to lift him, but Elisa shook her head and held Braiden tighter. “We can’t move him like this,” she yelled. “We could make it worse.”

“Then I’ll go get-”

“There’s no time!” With pleading eyes, she looked up at Reagan. “He might not make it that long. You have to heal him, Reagan.”