Falling Sons (continued)

Previously...our heroes are on the run to keep Delilah safe from the Devil's bounty hunters. On their journey, they stumble upon a Fallen Breeding House and Omar sacrifices himself so the rest of the group can get away. This is how their stories continues...

Chapter Seven: Omar

Omar had just enough time to see them get away before he saw the flash of a sword and a searing pain across his stomach. The blood dribbled down his front side as several more blows were brought to his legs, bringing him to his knees.

The Fallen that had originally been the girl made his way forward as two angels held back Omar by the shoulders. “Well, well, well.” The Fallen spoke. “You were one of the last people I expected to see here, Omar.”

Omar knew he hadn’t been a Fallen for several months now, but he still knew many, especially ones that were in charge of anything of importance. He was the one who used to give them orders. But he had no clue who this Fallen was nor any of the ones he had recently been fighting off.

“I don’t suppose you know where they are going, do you?”

“If I did, you would be one of the few people I wouldn’t tell.”

The Fallen drew back his fist and thrust it against the open wound on Omar’s stomach. He stifled a groan as he doubled over, sucking in a sharp breath.

“How much do you think the boss would pay for you dead?”

“Nothing. He likes me too much, just like your mom.”

The Fallen took another punch. Omar gasped for air as his knuckles dug deeper into the wound. He could feel his ribs rattle with the force of the blow.

“Then we’ll deliver you alive, barely, but just enough so he can have his way with you.”

“Sounds a little questionable to me if you know what I’m saying.”

“You think you’re real smart, don’t you?” The Fallen picked up a large piece of broken roof panel.

“Smart would be an understatement. I’d say charm—” Omar saw the wood out of the corner of his eye before there was nothing.

He woke up stiff, arms pulled behind him, tied to a chair. His cheek was swollen, but barely hurt. It was his chest that throbbed and seared in flames with each breath. He looked down to see that part of the wood that had been used to knock him out had been shoved into the wound to prevent it from successfully healing.

How long could he live with such an injury before he died from blood loss or infection? A flood light showered down onto him, momentarily blinding. The Fallen from before came out of the shadows. “Now I’ll ask you nicely, once.” He bent down to meet Omar’s gaze. “Where is Gus taking the girl?”

“Over the river…” Omar tried breathing, but the wood in his side made it hard. It might have punctured a lung. “Through the woods and to my grandmother’s house.”

For that he received a blow to the chest. The force of the punch knocked the wood up against his ribs. Omar sucked in a sharp breath before exhaling a long hiss of air. He’d been tortured before, so this wasn’t his first rodeo, but he could taste his blood in the back of his throat. Feeling the slight bubbling whenever he tried to breath. He would drown in his own blood. He’d have to admit—not the way he thought he would go.

“I will find out where she is being taken. A precious reward is given to the person who brings her in. Rumor has it, it’s your old position.”

“If you ever found her, I hope you like kissing ass because that’s all my job ever was.”

Omar took a punch to the face, spitting out blood. The iron taste filled his mouth and wet his lips. After all of his years of being a Fallen, he never thought this was how things would end up.

“Has anyone ever told you that you hit like a girl?”

A fist in the face, more punches to the chest and stomach. After so many, Omar threw up blood on the Fallen.

Disgusted, the Fallen straightened and said, “I’ll give you some time to think, hmmm?”

Omar only matched his gaze, watching him leave. Once the light shut off, he let his head fall as he panted for air.

The gash in his chest slowly began to heal, but the wood needed to be removed and he’d possibly need stitches before it could stop bleeding completely. He worked at the rope around his hands. Even though it made the skin around his wrists raw, he needed to get them free.

He took periotic breaks to catch his breath and shake himself awake.

Passing out wasn’t an option. At this point, he had lost so much blood that dozing off could mean not waking up.

During either his second or third day in the dark, he was visited by several Fallen, mostly female. They each left bite marks with their serum soaked canines. He could feel his body slowly take in the serum and slow the healing process until it stopped completely. Several inches of the wound were left unhealed around the wood. A slow trickle of blood ran thick down his front, soaking into his pants.

This made him groggy, but he fought sleep. He had to…

He…

mustn’t…

As his chin hit his chest he snapped his head up, frantically blinking his eyes.

Omar needed to suck out the serum, but there were too many he couldn’t reach. He had a terrible feeling that the majority of it had already gotten into his blood stream anyway and he would simply have to wait until it ran its course.

Omar focused back on the rope around his wrists. It had loosened with the hours of work he had put into it.

Breathing too heavy caused the wound to bleed heavier, but if he kept his breathes light it hardly bleed due to the wood working as a stopper.

It was in a moment of exhaustion and nodding off when his hands swung to his sides and hung limply. The rope made little to no noise as it hit the ground.

As if in a dream, his shoulders slowly circled, stretching the sore muscles.

He moved to remove the wood, but at his touch he automatically flinched and had to suck in a sharp breath.

He thought it would be best to leave it for now. Besides, it stanched the blood flow.

Next, he attempted to stand, but could barely sit up straight. Every time he moved, the wood rubbed against all of his nerve endings, sending painful stinging sensations across the surface of his skin. And even if this wasn’t an obstacle, he would be too lightheaded to stand.

Several deep breaths to calm his racing pulse and sooth the pain before relaxing back into the chair.

He tenderly touched the raw and bloody skin lining his wrists with his fingers. Most of the blood had dried and the damage was minimal. Though, it would still take time to fully heal due to the serum.

Omar tried to hatch up an escape plan, but he was much too tired for that. Not to mention the fact that he had no clue where he was. He would guess underground due to the dampness in the air, the chill that left him a few degrees below comfortable and the lingering scent of mildew.

To his surprise, he had become accustomed to the darkness. It wasn’t that he could actually see, but there was a spatial awareness of sorts. He wasn’t in the middle of the room, but closer to the back. He assumed there to only be the one door which was on the other side of the room.

Omar spent his time alone working his muscles—stretching his wings, attempting to stand and walk. These, after much practice, became manageable, but he doubted he would ever be able to run. Flying was most likely out of the question for it would be short lived and most likely result in him passing out from the exertion.

To keep his mind off of his injuries, he thought of Delilah.

It had been several days, or so he assumed, since he had been questioned about her whereabouts. Had she been captured? He highly doubted since he hadn’t been handed over to Lucifer yet.

Omar had faith in Gus. He knew that Gus would protect them—all of them, with maybe the exception of Gaven—until his dying breath. If they could make it to the safe house, perhaps Omar could join them once he escaped.

If he escaped.

Omar could feel his life slipping away, he didn’t have much time.

He quickly sat back down as he heard the door unlock. The dim lighting from the outside framed the opening and the figure standing in the doorway.

It was the Fallen, most likely returning for an answer which they both knew Omar wouldn’t give.

Omar took several deep breathes as the Fallen neared, not closing the door behind him—stupid and careless.

“Have you had time to think?”

“More than enough.” Omar’s heart raced with anticipation.

“Good,” the Fallen smirked, flashing yellow crooked teeth. “So, where are they going?”

“I have a question for you first.”

“Do you now?”

“Yeah, how many seconds does it take to kill a Fallen?”

“What—?”

He barely had time to exhale a gasp as Omar tore the wood from his own stomach, swung up his arm and drove it through the Fallen’s chest, impaling his heart.

The Fallen collapsed to the ground with the force of the blow, sputtering before remaining still and turning to ash.

“I’m sorry.” Omar said breathlessly. “The correct answer was two.”

He moved forward quickly, one hand pressed over his bleeding wound. It bleed a lot more than he thought it would. This would be very problematic, but one thing at a time.

What he thought was a hall was actually a short landing to a staircase lit dimly by candles along the walls.

From the darkness at the top, Omar assumed it was nightfall.

He paused for a brief moment at the top, allowing himself to sense the Fallen he would be facing and to catch his breath.

There were two directly outside of the doorway and a third most likely outside, patrolling.

He casually walked through, passing the two.

“Boss he already squealed? He’s more of a—” the first stopped.

“You’re not—!” The second began.

Omar shot out his wing at the first, throwing him against the adjacent wall. He collapsed to the ground unconscious, dropping his sword.

Omar picked it up to block a swing from the second guard who had come up behind him. Omar swiped his sword under his a attacker’s and disarmed him. Then used the hilt of the sword, he struck the Fallen across the face.

The night’s air was warm, ruffling his hair. He took several deep breathes of the dusty wind before putting his hand back over his profusely bleeding wound. He was getting lightheaded and fast. If he was going to gain any ground, he needed to do it.

“How have I not bleed out the serum yet?” He gasped for air.

“Hey!”

Omar tiredly looked down the road to see a Fallen charging for him, sword and wings shining brightly in the moon light.

“Why won’t you people just let me leave?” Omar demanded before lifting his sword and throwing it.

It cleanly lodged itself in the Fallen’s shoulder as he let out a howl of pain.

Omar took a running start before jumping into the air. He drunkenly flew, struggling to keep altitude. He attempted to keep his wound covered, best as he could, so he couldn’t be followed.

By the grace of God, he stayed airborne for almost two hours before he could fly no more. There was no graceful landing. There was an instantaneous moment where all flying movements stopped. He closed his eyes as air rushed up around him.

He crashed through the canopy of the trees. Snapping and breaking parts of his wings, but he barely felt it.

He was numb and tired.

Finally allowing himself to rest, to sleep, seconds before he crashed into the ground.

Chapter Eight

Delilah couldn’t help, but have this sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. How could they abandon Omar like that? Omar had sacrificed himself in hopes that she could get away. Why did he have to be a hero? She didn’t need a hero. She needed her brother.

I owe you. Omar’s words rang clearly in her mind from so long ago. She remembered them in the angelic world, she asking him why he treated her like a child. I owe you. If anything happened to you…

She bit the inside of her cheek to prevent tears. This would be twice that he’s saved her and she has nothing to give in return. She wasn’t worth his sacrifices. He didn’t have anything to prove.

Several hours passed before they stopped for the evening to get some food. They all ordered, but no one really ate. Even Tatyana mashed her fries with a plastic fork before throwing them away.

“Will you take Delilah into the restroom to change her bandage?” Gus asked Tia.

They stared at each for a long time before she nodded.

When Delilah was a kid used to think that couples or even close friends have some sort of telepathy. But now she know the power of looking into someone’s eyes and simply knowing what they would say.

Her chest tightened at the thought of it. She used to be able to do that with Gabel. It felt wrong to be away from him like this. She didn’t know if he was ok or where he was or the next time she would see him. What if something tragic happened and they never got to see each other again? Even though she knew it wasn’t really him, she didn’t want her last memory of him to be the events that happened at Aden’s wedding.

Even if it killed her, she was determined to see Gabel again.

“Del? You ok?”

She focused back to see Tatyana standing, waiting for her. She nodded, not finding her voice.

The bathroom was empty and surprisingly clean for a fast food restroom. Delilah hopped up onto the counter, foot near the sink in case there was a lot of blood.

Tatyana locked the door before silently and carefully unwrapping Delilah’s foot. Delilah wondered what was on Tia’s mind, but she was one of those people who talked when they wanted to. Asking would only result in an unreadable glance and more silence.

Tatyana sucked in a sharp breath.

Delilah looked down to see what had shocked her, expecting to see puss, blood and gore.

Instead, she was pleasantly amazed to find dried blood and a fresh pink patch of skin where the wound had been. She wiggled her toes and flexed her foot to make sure it was healed as much as it looked.

There was a pull in the muscles, but only soreness that would easily fade with use.

“You really are one of them…aren’t you?” Her best friend looked up.

So that’s what she had been thinking about.

Delilah nodded, not sure if it was a good or bad thing that she was angelic. “Yeah, I am.”

She sighed. “Gus told me how you guys live longer than…than humans.”

Where was she going with this?

“I tried breaking up with him, you know? It was when you were gone. I told him it wasn’t fair…that he shouldn’t get so attached to me when I’ll be gone before half of his life over.” She sniffled. “You…you should…”

“Tia stop.” Delilah took her hands. “Don’t talk like that.”

“It’s the truth.”

How many hours had Delilah spent trying to forget about Tia so Delilah could live on when Tia…but not once had it occurred to her how hard it would be on Tatyana.

“We’ll be friends forever, you know that right?” Delilah forced down her tears. “I’ll find some way to be human again.”

“Del—”

“We’ll grow old together. I promise.” As she said the words, she felt as if something tightened around her heart, almost like a rubber band of some sort. The pressure lightened as her pinky figure burnt slightly. She looked down to see a small red “x” before it faded and was completely gone as if it had never happened.

A promise. Delilah realized. She had made a promise as an angel. What was it Aden had said? An angel is bound by his words? It can never be broken?

She swallowed hard before squeezing Tatyana’s hands and giving a reassuring smile, even though she was pretty sure she had just screwed herself. How was she supposed to magically become human again? What were the implications of breaking an angel promise?

“I love you Del.”

“I love you too Tia.”

As they sat down at the table, Gus unfolded his hands and gave each of them a thoughtful look. She wondered if he had even tried speaking to Gaven while they had been gone.

“Delilah,” Gus paused. “We need to fake your death. Things were hard enough as is when Omar was here, but now that it’s just me it’s going to be near impossible to protect all three of you if we are attacked, which is sure to happen since you were seen again.”

“How do you plan on killing me?” She asked.

Gaven and Tatyana flinched.

“Could you not say it like that?” Gaven questioned.

“Both of you will have to actually act like she’s dead, you do understand this don’t you?” Gus said, somberly. “That’s the only way this will work.”

Silence became painful.

“Isn’t there a way for all of us to die?” Gaven spoke first. “If not, if they found us alive, wouldn’t they simply torture us until we told them where Delilah was anyway?”

The uncomfortable silence returned. This was very true. Despite the love that Delilah had for her friends, she figured neither of them had a very high pain tolerance when it came to sadistic Fallen torture.

She cleared her throat. “I think I have an idea.”

Tatyana, Gaven and Delilah watched from the safety of a nearby vehicle as Gus savagely drove down the road with four dummies resembling them.

It was strange to think of Omar and Gus planning to keep a spare car at a halfway point. But the abandoned warehouse was the perfect place to stash stuff you didn’t want anyone to find. The dummies had been left in a neighboring storage unit. Gus had taken blood from each of them, filling small sacks inside each dummy.

While leaving the warehouse, they ran into a group of Fallen who had been glamoured as farmers. They went after Gus in the truck as the rest safely made away in a minivan.

At first, Delilah had questioned their choice. A minivan? Why on earth would they chose a minivan? But then it dawned on her that neither Gus nor Omar would be caught dead driving such a vehicle. It wasn’t very manly—it was a soccer mom car for crying out loud—and the Fallen who knew them knew that fact. It was the perfect cover. And to further cement her death, Tatyana helped her cut her chair chin length. Delilah absolutely hated how short it was, but knew it was necessary. Once she was able, she would dye it darker with out of the dye packs that had been in storage.

Gus began driving up a ramp, making the turn much too quickly. The truck began to tip, slow at first before it was falling into the cement wall next to it, breaking through.

It was terrifying to watch the truck fall, smashing into the ground below and rolling several feet down the forested hillside before colliding with a tree. You could hear the windows shattering, the crush of metal even from this distance.

Just when she thought it was over, the car exploded, sending parts and very realistic looking burning human limbs from the car.

Tatyana whimpered next to Delilah before her face fell into her hands.

“It’s not real Tia.” Delilah wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “You know Gus is safe.”

She only sobbed harder.

“He’s ok. He’ll be ok.” The only thing allowing her to believe this was her own brief flirtation with death. If Delilah could fall thousands of feet and survive, Gus could survive a small car explosion, right?

The Fallen inspected the still burning car, trying to “save” the individuals inside. It was much too late. The dummies were burned beyond recognition. If it had actually been them, they would be long gone. In the strangest way, Delilah felt as if a part of her actually died in the crash as she watched the flames blaze on.

They waited for three hours, but there was still no sign of Gus.

Tatyana finally fell silent, expecting the worst. There was nothing she could say that would comfort her.

“Delilah,” Gaven whispered from the driver’s seat. “We should go.”

“No,” Tatyana said, no feeling—no life—in her voice.

“But—?”

“No!”

“Tia…” Delilah tried to take her hand.

Tatyana moved away from her. “He’s coming. He promised he’d meet us here. He’ll be here.”

She was in denial.

Delilah saw Gaven’s hands move to start the car.

They could surely wait just a little longer.

Gaven started the car.

“Wait,” she murmured, heart stopping. “I think someone’s coming.”

Something moved within the trees, but she hadn’t been sure at first. As she focused, she could make the outline of a person. No, an angel.

If it was a Fallen they were totally screwed. They had no weapons. No way to protect themselves.

“Gaven go.” Delilah hissed. “Go!” There was no saying how far away they could get, but it was at least worth trying.

“No!” Tatyana yelled simultaneously throwing open the side door. “Gus!” She ran toward the figure. “Gus!”

She embraced the figure, their bodies molding together as one shadow.

Delilah sighed with relief, relaxing into her chair. She wasn’t sure how many people she could have taken responsibility for. There was still this crushing weight with the possibility of Omar being gone. She didn’t need Gus gone too.

“You’re bleeding.” Tatyana said to him as they entered the car.

Her observation would be the understatement of the year. The front of his shirt was soaked with red and there was a healing gash across his forehead. There were the healing remains of burnt flesh on his arms and neck.

“I’m fine.” He coughed as he closed the door. “Go,” he hoarsely said to Gaven.

“Gus—!”

He pushed himself on Tatyana, holding her close with a deep kiss. Tatyana melted into him like butter. “I’m sorry.” He breathed when he pulled away. “I had to make sure they were convinced. I’m so sorry.” He kissed her again.

In that moment, Delilah knew he hadn’t done any of this for her. Not even a little. It was all for Tatyana. It was the same reason why he stayed with Tatyana when she had asked him to leave. Gus loved her.

At the end of the day, Delilah couldn’t ask for anything more.

Chapter Nine: Tatyana

It’s like a living nightmare. Tatyana thought.

She had had her fair share of violence when she was in Hell, but this was worse. The constant running, the endless fighting and life-threatening injuries, and Gus almost dying in that horrible car accident were going to give her grey hair. She was too pretty to get grey hair. She almost enjoyed life more when Delilah wasn’t dragging danger around like it was chained to her ankles.

But at the same time, Tatyana loved her best friend and would do anything and go anywhere for her.

Where would they draw the line? When would she get to start her life with Gus?

Tatyana eyed Delilah in the rear view mirror. She lied on Gaven, his arm around her, they were holding hands, sleeping.

Tatyana always thought they were a cute couple and had even told Delilah so on many occasions. But time and time again, Delilah had said there was nothing between them and they were only dance partners, blah blah blah.

Tatyana had seen them dance. With the chemistry and closeness the two of them shared, she didn’t know how they couldn’t be sleeping together. It was obvious from day one that Gaven was totally into Delilah. The helpless stares and disappointed face with rejection, he wasn’t just a friend. Delilah had too big of a head and too many goals to actually see any of the signs. Delilah had unintentionally hard-core friend zoned that poor boy. Tatyana didn’t even know if Delilah liked him back.

She supposed none of that really mattered anymore. Delilah was immortal. Gaven would die and so would she. Tatyana wondered if Delilah would replace her after she’d been dead and buried or would she be morose for the rest of her life from the loss? Of course, Tatyana wouldn’t want Delilah to mourn her for the rest of her near-immortal life, but there was something satisfying in being irreplaceable. Would Gus replace her after they got to live her human life?

“Angel, you alright?” Gus reached over and took her hand without even looking. He had such soft hands. He was always so gentle with her as if she were made of glass.

She turned and tried to smile. He would live on without her too. He’d remain young as she grew older, always one step closer to the grave.

How had she gotten so unlucky to find someone who loved her the way he did, but only to leave him alone?

“I'm fine.”

He smiled back and gently made circles on the top of her hand with his thumb. She loved when he did that. It always sent good shivers through her body.

She rested her head back, staring up at the gigantic moon. It seemed so close…

“You should get some rest.” He casually suggested.

“You won’t need to switch shifts?” She rolled her head so she could see him.

He lightly laughed, his blue eyes shining even in the dark. “Angel, after the lack of sleep you’ve had these past few days, I wouldn’t trust you behind the wheel, especially at night.”

“But you haven’t slept either.” She protested.

“True, but I’m more alert at night. I was built for this.” He picked up her hand, brushing his lips against fingers. “You, however, were not.”

“If you’re sure…” She blushed. Gus had been the first and only man to make her heart flutter.

“I'm more than positive.”

She relaxed the best she could before letting her eye lids droop.

She was trapped in the darkness again. She felt nothing, heard nothing, smelled nothing. The fear pressed on her as she continued forward. The only thing she knew was that she had to escape, even if she was miles from home. She needed to see the light. Even if it was one last time. There was a dim sliver of light ahead and her heart nearly stopped.

Finally, she was getting close to freedom. With the little strength she had left, she ran to the doorway-like-opening. She was forced to stop in her tracks as heat rose from within. There was a drop off that led down to a river of lava. She fell to her knees as her vision blurred with hopeless tears. She was going to die here. She’d never see her boyfriend Gus again, or her best friend Delilah or even Grandmamma Penny.

Suddenly she heard a soft, pattering noise. At first she thought it had only been a figment of her imagination because she knew she was the only one there. But then she remembered the black winged men. No, no she wouldn’t let them take her again. She wished she had something to defend herself with. Sweeping her hands back and forth, she reached out blindly for something, anything she could use as a club.

Right when her hands found a hard stump, a large hand covered her mouth and shoved a damp, bad tasting rag over her mouth. She tried to struggle against her attacker, the pit of firey death almost seemed like her best option, but her attempts became weak before she passed out.

…

She woke up in a warm room. A new rag was tightly strung around her head, preventing her from opening and completely closing her mouth. She was tied to a chair with very little wiggle room. A black winged man with a dark face grabbed her hands and held her arms out. Another winged man came into the room and went over to a fire place. “Do you know what we do with prisoners who try to escape?” He questioned. She didn’t answer. He grabbed bright fiery red-orange shackles from the hot coals.

Tatyana screamed and thrashed, but was stuck to the chair while the winged man held out her arms.

The door flew open and she recognized this new winged man as Gus barking orders just as the man with the shackles locked them around her wrists—

Tatyana jumped awake as her wrists burned. She tenderly touched the burnt ringlets of skin. Phantom pain was the worst.

The driver’s door opened. “Is everything ok?” Gus’s arms were filled with bags of potato chips, trail mix with M&Ms, beef jerky and dozens of honey buns and Twinkies.

It wasn’t until then that she realized they weren’t moving. She looked up at the glowing building. “Is that a rest area?”

“I had to use the toilet and I wanted some snacks because I finished off the granola bars—which I know you will miss so much.”

She didn’t take in a single word he said. “I’ll be right back.” She hopped out of the car and hurried inside.

He called after her, but she didn’t look back..

It wasn’t the nicest place. The humming florescent lights had tiny black flies lying dead along the bottoms of them. The bathroom could use a cleaning and smelled like someone had dropped something they had let die inside of them.

Thankfully, no one else was in there as she began to cry. She ran the water, cold being the only option, before splashing her face. I’m safe now. She told herself over and over again. Gus won’t let them take me, not again. I’m safe.

After drying her face and eyes, she made her way back to the minivan.

Gus only leaned over and gave her a long, slow kiss. Their lips were fitting pieces to a puzzle. It was as if he understood everything and was gradually taking away the pain with each kiss. “I love you Tatyana, more than anything. I want you to remember that.”

She began to doze off again when suddenly Gus took an exit that didn’t even have a gas station.

She gave him a curious look, but he didn’t say a word, staying focused on the road.

They drove around for nearly six miles before they began climbing up a steep hill. The trees grew thicker and closer together. The road they were on ended and became a thin dirt road. The minivan barely fit on the path with the mountain side on the right and a massive drop off on the left. The car rocked back and forth with each pot hole and boulder they had to drive over. She closed her eyes and tried to breathe, clutching the arm rest.

It seemed like forever before the car stopped and the engine cut off.

“This is where Omar and I used to come when we simply wanted a break from being…well us. We’re the only ones who know about this place. So it’ll take a while for anyone to find us, especially since they think we’re dead.”

Tatyana opened her eyes to see a small opening with less trees causing the ground to look like a patch work design of grassy greens and golden sunlight. Knitted nicely between the trees was a small cottage with a brown grassy-looking roof and a stone wall structure. Tiny wooden panels covered rectangular windows. There were ocean blue empty flower boxes beneath those. These probably had never had anything in them. Beautiful bright forest ivy snaked up the sides. A wooden door had a black circular handle and no knocker.

It was something she pictured a little old couple living in or a wicked witch from a fairy tale that ate small children. Both seemed very plausible, but she was betting on a witch.

“What are we doing here?” She turned to him, fearing the answer he would give.

He nervously smiled. “Welcome to our vacation.”

Vacation? Vacation meant beaches or ski resorts or hotels. Not…not this.

“Oh, hell no!”

To be continued....

(Thank you for reading!)