Hey! How's it going? I think Counting Down is becoming a huge hit. I've been real pleased with its success. Please tell your friends if you haven't already done so for me.
I'm thinking about the next story (actually, I'm always thinking about the next story) and could use some of your help. I'm thinking about writing my next story in a different genre. I'm thinking I would classify, Counting as dramatic, and Bear & Cubs as thriller/Detective, so how do you feel about stories that are wrapped around a theme like that? I can write superhero, Magik, alternate universes, space, etc. (I don't do horror, sorry for you horror fans) Email me (Foxfire3730@proton.me) and I'll take a tally then decide where to go from here.
If you do enjoy Counting Down, please read some of my other works on AO3 (TuxEdwards): Counting, Counting Down (the sequel to Counting), Not Capable of Love, Fire (Boys of Grizzly Valley on AO3), Go Bag (Boys of Grizzly Valley on AO3), and Jaded (on AO3). Please take a few minutes to drop me an email to let me know if Counting Down is for you: Foxfire3730@proton.me

"The Universe is Made of Stories, Not of Atoms" -Muriel Rukeyser

 

Rescuing Becky

 

AJ

The roar of the waterfall, at least three stories high, has me practically yelling my question to my dad, "Shhh, listen. Don't you hear it?" Holding onto Stepper's reins, I carefully step over the slippery rocks that surround the small lake. Tall trees loom over the lake as the moonlight streams down and glitters off the water ripples. 

"AJ, slow down! I don't hear anything but the waterfall," Dad shouts back to me as he tries to keep up. 

Our flashlights shake and swing about, me looking for the roar of a waterfall has me practically yelling my question to my dad. What I heard was... "Listen, Dad, it's... it's..." I concentrate on my hearing and listen to the waterfall. There are different sounds. There are different levels of crashes of falling water on different levels of rocks, and then on the very bottom of the lake. "It's... it's something in the waterfall," I tell him excitedly, knowing I heard something. 

I shine my flashlight up towards the top, and I can see Dad doing the same after he ties Buddy's reins to a skinny tree near the lake. My frustration builds a little when I realize that the beam of light isn't going to reach near the top. "I need more light. I need more light," Dad hears me say as I head to the saddlebags on Buddy. 

"Slow down; tell me what you hear."

I dig in the bags and cheer a little when I find what I'm searching for. I aim the flare gun up at the sky and move my arm as I figure out the arch and height at which it will fly, then pull the trigger. "AJ, stop!" Dad shouts, and the brilliant fireball of radian energy soars into the sky and serves as our limited sun for the time being. Dad grabs the flare gun from me and begins to scold me for shooting a flare gun in a forest full of dried branches and leaves. 

Totally ignoring him, eyes search for anything that looks off, and when I see it, I interrupt him, yelling, "There! Over there!"

Dad's eyes search the darkness until he shouts, "That doesn't look good." He follows behind me as I run around the small lake to the other side, near the falls. Laying over by the waterfall on the rocks is a man on his back. I get there first, and Dad quickly grabs me and pulls me back to a safe distance. "AJ, stay here; I won't repeat myself."

Dad rushes to check on the man laying on the rocks, and I search the area I'm standing in for footprints other than ours. With the last of the light from the flare, I look up towards the mouth of the waterfall, and near the top, I see her. "Dad! Dad, there, up on the wall near the top! It's his daughter!" Up on a rock shelf near the top is a girl about my size. She is holding onto the rock face as the water hammers on her, trying to rip her from her hold. 

Dad sees the girl and heads back around the lake, heading for Buddy. I place my fingers in my mouth and whistle as loud as I can. Steppers turns and gallops my way. By the time Dad climbs the hill to the top, I had my climbing harness and rope out of my saddle bags and was tying it around my waist. He had the CB radio in his hand, telling Rancher Sneed where we were and the condition of the man below on the rock. He grabs the rope and asks, "AJ, what are you doing?"

"We need to tie the other end to Stepper and have him lower me down to the girl."

"No, I'll go. It's too dangerous," he argues.

"It has to be me. You're too heavy, and the ledge is too small, you'll never fit. The girl has been hanging on that rock for hours. She's probably suffering from hypothermia and won't be able to feel her fingers, so you'd have to get under the waterfall to get her. Stepper won't drop me, Dad; I'll be okay." 

His eyes stare into mine, looking for a solution better than this, and then he says, "You go slow, understand? For no reason, I mean for no reason, do you take the rope off and climb under the waterfall on that ledge." He says it with a worrisome tone, shoves a couple green glow sticks in my pockets, and hugs me. I agree to his terms, and he double-checks my knots on the small climbing harness. Then, slowly and very carefully, I climb over the edge of the rocks. Don't look down. 

Don't look down. 

Don't look down. Shit! 

I looked down.

Beau

A Few Hours Earlier

My pill bottle sits on the bar in front of me, where Mom keeps it next to AJ's emergency kit. It's a dark yellow bottle with a white childproof cap. It's sticker has my full name on it, `Beau Roman Colter' along with my address, the date it was given, and the doctor's name. Along the side, it has warnings of opioid addiction that may cause drowsiness, instructions on when to take it, a poison help line, and a full glass of water. Inside the bottle are three tablet-shaped pills with `M367' carved into them. All of that is normal for every pill bottle, but what I'm staring at and dreading is the line that reads, `No Refills Remaining.' 

I am so lost in my own many questions about my health, pain threshold, and self-control that I didn't even hear Mom enter the kitchen. "What'cha doing, silly?" She asks me as she puts a bowl that used to hold popcorn in the sink. 

"My knee was hurting, and I couldn't sleep. I think I twinked it when the twins and I moved my stuff into Zeke's old room," I tell her softly without taking my eyes off of the bottle. 

"Do you want a pill, honey?" She asks, reaching for the bottle of Vicodin. 

I sit up straight and squint at the pain in my knee, wondering if it hurts bad enough to warrant a pill. I don't have many left. "If I run out, will the doctor give me more?" I ask her. She takes the bottle, and my eyes follow it closely. 

"Probably not, honey. The doctor doesn't hand these out if you don't need them. Do you need one to sleep?"

She wouldn't ask me so lightly if she knew my past with these pills. A seven-year-old doesn't have sex with sweaty, gross cowboys every weekend without needing pain pills. Coach Murphy gave me what I needed to do my job as long as he got a `freebee,' and I always took one before he had his way with me. I guess he thought it made me more willing to do whatever he wanted. It took the orphanage a year to get me off them and clean before they places me with Pop and Gran. I feel that I've done well so far. I don't feel like I `need' one all the time, but I can't help thinking, `Will one bottle be enough?'

"Beau? Do you need one to get to sleep?" Mom asks again. 

"No," I say, shaking my head. "I think I'll save them for practice on Wednesday and Saturday's game." 

"Okay, honey, if you change your mind, I'll be in bed. Colt doesn't want to sleep alone, so he'll be sleeping with me. If you want one, come get me and try not to wake him up," she says, leading me up the stairs to my new bedroom. 

We enter Zeke's room--I guess it's mine now--and mom helps me into bed. Tucking me in, she kisses my forehead and asks, "Are you going to be okay, Beau, without AJ to snuggle into?" 

I smile and tell her, "You know he gets all sweaty." 

"I know," she responds with a chuckle. 

"Do you think he's alright?"

"He's with your father. I'm sure he's just fine," she assures me, then reminds me, "There's always room in my bed for you and Colt." 

"I'll be fine," I tell her, and she gives my chest a pat, telling me she loves me before leaving. 

The darkness overtakes me, and the silence in my empty room is deafening, making me rethink her offer. 

AJ

Water sprays over me, soaking me to the bone. The rope tightens around my waist, and I hold on, giving it everything I have. Dad shouts down encouragement, trying to make me feel better. He's expecting me to be panicking, and normally I would be, but the urgency of the situation has taken over my thoughts, and I can't help but wonder: What were they doing out on this little ledge? 

The ledge couldn't be a foot wide. It's made of dark stone that has been beaten, broken, and polished smooth by the waterfall. The waterfall is strangely shaped to drop the river two feet from the rock face. The ledge extends almost to the wall of constantly moving water. The girl is on shaky knees and clutching at a white stick or rod protruding from the wall. 

The crashing water below is thunderous, and I hang there twenty feet down the rock face. I crack one of the glow sticks and shake it to life. The green light barely extends under the waterfall, lighting up a very frightened girl about Colt's age. Her dark hair is long and matted down, giving her head a skull shape. She's wearing tan shorts and a t-shirt. A little black backpack hangs heavily low off her shoulders with the zipper open. It must be full of water. 

"Hey!" 

She turns her head to look at me, highlighted in an eerie green glow, and I see her eyes blink every time water hits them. She is visibly shaking, and her skin is pale, like when you've been swimming forever and you have pruned hands all over your body. She has small cuts and bruises all over her face, arms, and legs. 

I wedge the glow stick into a crack in the wall before I snap and shake the next one to life, saying, "My name is AJ. I'm going to get you out of here, okay?" She nods and reaches for me with fatigued arms. Her feet slip, and only her grip on the white rod keeps her from falling to the rocks below. I gasped and reached for air, afraid she was going to fall. She shakes her head and repositions herself on her little ledge. 

"Don't move! I'm going to climb over to you, and we'll get out of here together." 

I put the glow stick in my mouth and looked for solid hand holds. I shimmy myself onto the ledge and immediately fall off thanks to my cowboy boots. Stupid, stupid, stupid. I was in such a hurry that I didn't even think about that. Cowboy boots have no traction. I swing back and forth at the end of the rope. Pulling at my boots, I toss them to the small shore below me, doing my best not to hit the unconscious man laying far below me. 

My second attempt is much better, as I'm allowed to grip the rock ledge with my toes. Once I get on the small shelf, I reach for her and say, "What do you say? Let's get somewhere dryer." Suddenly, I retract my hand as I realize that the cracks in the stone can't be cracks. My fingers slid up and around, following the so-called crack. "That's odd? There seem to be shapes here carved into the stone." 

I follow the lines that make the shapes in the stone wall and work on the whole picture in my head. I've never tried to see something with my fingers before. Maybe, if I memorize where my fingers slide, I might be able to trace it on paper later, but that's a big maybe. As my fingers show me more and more of the picture, I begin to see shapes and little dials that move back and forth in the rock, but they are locked in position. She allows herself to move her hand over to mine and grip me tightly, bringing me out of my tunnel vision. 

"Can we go now?"

Pulling my attention back to the emergency at hand, I tell her what we have to do: "You're going to have to wrap your arms around my neck and your legs around my waist, okay? There is a horse up there just waiting for my whistle to pull us out; then I'll hold onto you and won't let go, I promise." 

She nods a shivering head, and slowly, as careful as I can, I reach around her, using the rod to brace myself. I get myself comfortable and yell, "Okay, I'm ready!" I thought I was, but when she spins around and adds her body weight, plus at least fifteen pounds of water in her backpack, to mine, I think I lost a couple finger nails trying to hold onto the rock face. "I'm good. I'm good, but you've got to lose the backpack," I holler to her as I strain to hold onto the rocks. 

She clumsily gets the pack off, and we work out something where we can hold onto each other. When I'm ready, I ask her, "Are you ready?"

I begin to get ready to move us to the end of the ledge, and she begins to shout, "The rod! The rod! Don't leave the rod!" 

"What!" I yell, confused by such an outburst. 

She yells, startling me, "It slides out! Pull the rod out!" Confused and not willing to argue the fact that, even though the rod might be important, it couldn't be more important than risking almost dying again to retrieve it. Since I'm still on the ledge, I decide it's just easier to retrieve the rod. It takes a little wiggling, but it does slide out. I take it and shove it under my belt and in between my butt cheeks. I know what you're thinking: `It's not the first time I've had a rod between my cheeks.' 

From there, it's not hard to carefully inch our way from under the waterfall, and once it's clear, I whistle for Stepper and Dad to pull us out of here. I'm doing my best to keep my feet on the rock face so we don't smash our faces, but the rope must be catching because we're being jerked about and eventually my feet slip.

"What's going on?" She shouts as we slam into the rocks, and without warning, her full weight is hanging on my neck as her feet jerk loose from around my waist! The strain on my neck doesn't last long as her fingers break free, and I see the look of surprise and fear in her eyes. I'd like to say that time moved slower as my mind raced through all the options I had, but it didn't. It must have been just a pure, gut-wrenching, millisecond-body reaction. One second I know she's falling, and the next moment I'm upside down and she's hanging from my right hand. 

My fingers are locked around the wrist of her right hand as her left one dangles at her side. I reach up with my left, trying to reach for the rope, but to no avail. "Don't let go! Don't let me go!" She shouts, hanging from the end of my arm. 

"You've got to reach up and grab me with your other hand!" I plead with her, and after trying twice, I knew she was just too weak. She had been hanging on to that rock face for hours, it would seem. Twisting my body, I try to get my other hand closer to her, but the way the rope is tied around my body, I'm practically hanging upside down, and the rope is crushing my nuts. The harness I'm wearing is designed to keep me from flipping upside down; we might have to take this one back to the store to get our money back.

I did the only thing I could think of: I yelled for help, "Dad! Dad, help!" My muscles are burning, and I'm not sure my arm can handle this much weight. I wish Beau was here. He would have had her up and half way home by now. Fire burst from my shoulders as she jerked herself, trying to get her other hand up to mine. I want to tell her to stop; she is going to pull my shoulder from my body if she doesn't, but I don't want to drop her either! I wrap my left leg around the rope to hopefully stabilize some of the swinging on my part. Knowing that the outcome of this little high-wire rope act is not good, I scream again, "Dad! Help us, Dad!" She must be able to feel my panic because she joins in my desperate praying.

Some rocks hit me from above, and I look up to see my dad descending down the cliff on the other end of my rope. "Hold on, kids, I'm coming," he cheerfully says, trying not to show how scared he is too. He gets below me and grabs onto her arm, hoisting her up to his chest. She lets go of me and latches onto his neck. "AJ, son, are you good?" He asks, helping me up to a vertical position so that I'm sitting upright in my harness. 

Words escape me. I don't know if I was too scared to say anything or if there was just too much sound input from my heart beating like crazy, the waterfall pounding on the rocks, wheezing coming from my lips, or just the completely terrified event I just experienced. All I know is that all I could do to respond after he repeated his question a second time was nod and lean my forehead on the climbing rope, trying to slow down the world. 

Beau

I stare out into the silent night in the direction of the Grizzly Valley Preserve, east of our cattle pasture. The guys, AJ, and I play paintball war, tag, and lots of other things in those woods when adults aren't watching, but that's during the day. When we all can see what dangers are in front of us, AJ is out there. Sure, AJ's with him, and Dad wouldn't ever let anything happen to him. I mean, he babies AJ more than he does the rest of us, and treats him like he can't do anything dangerous as if AJ's fragile or something.

I don't like being away from him. There is something in my gut that tells me he needs me. I rub the back of my knee and just wish the throbbing pain would go away. "This is stupid!" I go into the empty, dark room and grab a pair of boxer briefs with the pouch in the front. I only wear the ones that have a pouch to hold my nuts. That way, they're not sticking to my leg and swinging around, you understand. These are my favorite kind of underwear. They're deep red, and all the seams are black, along with the waistband. The cloth is tight and soft against my skin, as if someone painted it on. I'm not hiding anything when I wear them. They're so revealing; hell, you can even see the outline of my pubes, hehee. 

I have about fourteen pairs of these babies, and I wear a different color each day. I love seeing the boys' faces when they see my bulge. Hell, even the coach dropped his jaw when he saw it. There is just something about other people looking at my junk that makes me proud. Does that make me a bad person? I don't think so. I work really hard to get my body to look like this. I keep myself groomed and trimmed, including my pubes, just like Zeke showed me. I love watching the straight boys roll their eyes and the bi-curious boys stare and begin to drool. Some days, when I feel the need, I even tug on my cock a few times. Not to get it hard, just enough to get it a little bit longer, and then I walked through the locker room. The semi-boner is very useful. I don't want it all the way hard because you get teased, but I do like it sort of hard when the guys are staring.

I quietly head down the hall and pause to see Colt snuggled into Dad's pillow and Mom on her side. Downstairs in the weight room, I decide to see if I can work on my upper body and maybe walk or jog a few miles, depending on my pain level. I've got to get AJ off my mind. I take the knee wrap out of the gym bag with my name on it by the door. It still has my dirty towels in it from after I got home from school. For some reason, I take a whiff of the knee wrap and reel in disgust at the smell of hard work and sweat. 

Wrapping my knee, I fiddle with the pin to secure it. Standing up, I stomp on it a few times to make sure it's not too tight. "Dexter, play Zeke's muscle playlist, volume 4," I tell the small globe in the ceiling. It gives me a `boop' to let me know it heard me, and then `Sabotage' by the Beastie Boys blasts through the speakers. 

I'm over-reacting.

He's with Dad.

He's fine.

AJ

Water, dirt, twigs, and tons of leaves swirl around us as the emergency rescue helicopter hovers just above the treetops. The man in the white jumpsuit latches the last of the belts on a gurney connected to the helicopter. He gives a thumbs up to the man leaning out of the rescue copter and the gurney begins to rise off the ground with the girls father secured in it.

I'm sitting against a tree, and Dad kneels in front of me, shielding me from the debris that's blowing around. He's talking to me, and it's nothing but a dull murmur to me. My eyes are locked on the dirt that I'm drawing in between my legs. This shape goes here, and here there was a hole. Then, a line here and one down here. "AJ, can you please look at me?" He asks. It's not that I don't want to look at him; it's more like if I do, I might miss something that I'm trying to remember. 

"Is he okay?" Asks Rancher Sneed. 

"He's just tired and has been through a lot tonight," Dad says, messing up my hair and standing up to shake the rancher's hand. "What's going to happen to the girl?"

Mr. Sneed looks over at the girl that was hanging from my hand no more than an hour ago and says, "I've called Mark Thomas, and he's going to contact someone."

"It's late, Sneed. Tell Mark the girl can stay with us. We have to take AJ to the hospital tomorrow and will drop her off in her dad's room. We can decide then if he wants her to stay with us until he gets out of the hospital." 

Mr. Sneed takes out his phone and says, "I'll call him back right now, then."

"I'll get the horses ready. I'm just going to take AJ home. I think our camping trip is over," Dad says, looking a little let down. 

Thirty minutes later, Rancher Sneed is lifting my body with a blanket wrapped around me up on Buddy's saddle into my dad's arms as my mind traps me with hordes of numbers, lines, and shapes. I guess the girl, named Becky, is riding Stepper. She's a little intimidated by him, but Dad assures her that he'll just follow me and that she doesn't have to do anything but enjoy the ride. 

"My Dad's going to be okay, right?" She asks from somewhere behind me. 

"I sure hope so, honey. I'm not going to lie to you; I have no idea, but the doctors will work on him all night if need be." Dad answers and turns to check on her. 

"And your son, is he going to be okay?" 

"AJ? He'll be fine." Dad answers her again and gives me a little hug. "Sometimes the world just becomes too much for AJ to handle, and he gets trapped inside his head. Once he works out whatever is keeping him in there, he'll be the brave little boy we all know and love." 

The two talk all the way home, but it all sounds like I'm in the state and they are talking in the back of the theater. Flashes of memories past and present play back, practically yelling in my head. The problem with remembering everything is that I remember everything. 

I learned that Missy was behind most of my torment. 

The look in Becky's face as she screamed for me to not let go. 

I moved my fingers across the first shape in the stone wall.

Maxwell being ripped in two in the boys bathroom.

Zack's and my first kiss and falling in the horse trough.

At a hotel and sleeping in the truck with Zeke guarding the horses.

My hands were sliding over the rock wall, finding every shape. 

Zeke was kidnapped and shoved into a van.

Fighting Bobby Ton with a hockey stick.

Meeting the Lunch Table Boys. 

Beau's and my first kiss. 

Don't leave the rod!

Beau

I have no idea how long I've been working out, but when my music turns off, I take a break and head to the kitchen to refill my water bottle. The house is dark, and if it weren't for the vent light above the stove, I'm sure I would have stubbed a toe. After drinking half of my refilled bottle, the CB comes to life. It crackles and flicks as the signal begins to come in low. I walk over and wonder who is using our farm channels when I hear amongst the static, "Alice, are you there? Honey, wake up." 

I take the mic and key the button, asking, "Dad?"

"Beau? Beau, go get your mother." 

"Is AJ okay?" I ask, and my fears twist my gut as the words leave my lips. 

"He's fine; go get your mother."

I met Mom already coming down the stairs in her light blue bathrobe. "Honey, what are you doing up?" She asks, passing me on her way to the CB. 

"I couldn't sleep. I was worried about AJ."

She looks at me questionably and picks up the mic. "Morning Jack. I wasn't expecting you until this afternoon."

"Hey, honey, I'm sorry for waking you."

"Is everyone okay?" She asks with a hint of worry in her voice.

"Yeah, we're good; at least I think so. There are some cuts and probably some bruises, but I'll explain when I get home. I'm bringing home a young girl that's about Colt's age. We found her in the woods; can you make up the guest room and meet me outside? I could use a hand."

Mom tells dad she'll be ready and then turns to me. "Beau, I hope you will tell me or your father soon what is bothering you. Holding on to secrets isn't healthy for a family. Right now, you need a shower, and I need to get ready." She hugs me and pats my butt as I head upstairs. She's making coffee as I gimp up to the second floor. 

The bathroom seems chilled, so I turn on the heat lamp. I don't want it to take long, so I'll just wash up quickly. I take off my knee wrap and rub my knees before walking into the shower. Quickly, I wash all over my body, give my Willy a few tugs out of habit, and get out. Using a towel to dry off as I walk naked from the bathroom to my bedroom, Mom yells from the living room, "There is a little girl going to be staying with us; let's not have her see you naked. Please pass that along to your brothers. It's probably best no other hanky-panky either. I don't need her hearing you or AJ moan."

"Moooommm, gross," I tell her out of embarrassment. 

"Well, I know how you two get. I'm not sure how long she's going to be here or what the story is, but I doubt she's a nudist like you seem to want to be."

"It's a choice, Mom," I yell to her as I pull a clean pair of the best underpants in the world. Wait until she gets a load of these. I hurry to the stairs, and Mom sends me back to get some pajama pants on, to my disgust of not being able to drive her crazy. Dumb girls are easy to freak out, and a boy in thin, tight underwear always does it. 

I rush to the porch where mom is, and she gives me a little hug, showing me she approves of my pj bottoms. "I guess those didn't come with a shirt?" She says it with a chuckle.

"And cover up this body," I respond, dragging my hands down my defined chest to show off the goods. 

She tickles under my arms, and I squirm out of her reach, giggling. "Look, there they are," I excitedly say, pointing down the driveway. Rushing to my dad and AJ, I notice that AJ is asleep with my dad's arms wrapped around him, keeping him upright. When I get in earshot I accuse him, "You said he was okay."

"He's fine. Beau, I want you to take the horses to the barn, and I'll meet you there in a little bit," Dad says as he dismounts with AJ in his arms. He's wet from head to toe, and he has cuts all over his face, arms, and legs. 

"Why is he so beat up? Was he attacked or something?"

"Beau, please!" Dad says letting his frustration splash over the emotional wall he keeps it behind. He takes a deep breath and says calmly, "Take the horses; I'll meet you in the barn."

I take Buddy's reins and head over to get Stepper's. Mom helps the girl off the saddle. Her long wet hair is dark in color and matted every which way caked with mud and sand. Her wounds mimic AJ's, but her skin is white like a ghost. What happened to these two? My mom hugs the girl and says cheerfully, "Oh, honey, you're soaking wet. I've got you a hot bath upstairs. I'm sorry, but I don't have little girl clothes. I've only raised boys, but we'll get you some dry clothes to sleep in and worry about the rest when the sun is up."

"Thank you, Mrs. Colter."

"Hi, I'm Beau." I introduce myself as I take Stepper by the reins. "You got to ride Stepper. Consider yourself lucky; he's a special horse."

"My name is Becky. That horse is really nice. Maybe I can ride him again someday," Becky meekly says petting Stepper's neck.

Leading the horses away, I tell her, "I doubt it; AJ has a connection with Stepper. I bet I can count on one hand how many people he's let ride him. You were lucky he was asleep," I say with a chuckle. She affixes the bright orange blanket around her shoulders better, and Mom leads her inside. There is sadness in her face. Like when someone is so sad they're in shock. It can't be because of what I said, could it? I guess I could have been nicer. I wonder what happened in those woods.