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Johnny had never felt so alive.
He stretched out his arms to the misty sea air, tasting the salt in his mouth and the dampness along his arms as everything shimmered gold in the rising sun. The yellow rays glazed his dark, fluffy locks like a halo. The warmth burned through the mist, making everything pleasant and comfortable despite the moisture.
Johnny's eyes fell closed, his head tilted back as he smiled at the sky. He listened to the crashing of the waves on the magnificent cliffs below.
“This is beautiful.” Sodapop's voice broke the atmosphere but Johnny didn't mind.
“It's gold.” Johnny laughed, turning to the blond. Sodapop's hair looked brighter than it ever had with the light reflecting in it. The glowing sunrise painted his face. Everybody knew Sodapop Curtis was perfect, but Johnny got to see this unique moment of him experiencing something new and just as beautiful as him.
They had set out on the road trip together in the fall, just after Ponyboy had left for school. Pony hadn't been sure if he'd make it back for the holidays and neither of them, Soda or Johnny, had been able to take it.
With Darry starting night classes and working more from his promotion, he hardly had time to be around. Dallas had gotten locked up for a few years, not bothering to give them the address for visits. All he'd said was that he'd call when he got out. Steve had moved northeast, setting route for a Navy yard to move on from being a car mechanic. Steve Randle had always had more in him, he just needed to find it.
So, Sodapop and Johnny were alone and had no chance at anything.
Two dropouts, Johnny had given up shortly after the Bob Sheldon incident, with no real skill in anything other than being rejects.
Glory, Sodapop's kindness and beauty could only get him so far and everyone knew how Johnny stood, a sad kicked puppy who was afraid of his shadow.
One night they'd been burning a joint to keep themselves occupied and one thought led to another until they'd made a plan.
Get an RV and find something worth living for.
It worked. Somehow, they managed to hold money to make it to the next town from their little RV. They'd burned a path of mayhem through the states, smiling the whole way. They got on well, better than could have been expected.
It seemed this was what they were meant for.
Now, Johnny knew for sure.
The summer air, the greenery, and the wet sea air. Oregon had never tasted so sweet as it did now at that viewing area. The trail they’d circled on their map proved right by the mini hiking sign at the edge of the forest.
Johnny leaned on the wooden fence by the cliffside, the crisp air stinging his lungs as he looked down at the dark beach cutting between the two cliffs ahead of them. It was made of rocks, and tons of small, dark pebbles instead of the sandy beaches people normally expected. The kind Johnny had loved so much when they’d driven along the Texas coast.
Even with how magnificent every step of their trip had been, Johnny couldn’t help but feel wonder again. Everything felt like a brand-new wonder. The sea stacks were the main thing that stuck out to him, the way the coast was so unique and complex made his breath stutter.
On top of it all, Sodapop had found a hiking trail with a rope bridge cutting across the gap between the two cliffs.
“You ready, Johnny?” Sodapop was smiling, shifting from foot to foot, his eyes darting to the trailhead.
“Yeah, suppose so.” Johnny laughed, shaking his head as Sodapop skipped forward a few paces like a hyperactive dog. That was one thing that was rough about living in tight courters with Sodapop Curtis. He never seemed to really slow down unless he was passed out.
So, they started off.
Johnny wasn't one for exercise if he was honest. He liked playing football with the gang back in the day but he'd never found much interest in sports like Darry and Ponyboy.
Hiking, though, especially in the seaside forest with those massive sycamores and all the vibrant greens around them held something more meaningful. Johnny had always dreamed of getting out of Tulsa. For a moment, he hadn't thought he'd get the chance after killing Bob Sheldon but the world had given him another chance.
So, even though he had never felt more alive than he had been surrounded by flames, saving those kids, he was given a chance to see the world. He intended to do it, to make his life bright and meaningful.
Johnny Cade was making the most of every extra day the world gave him.
“Johnny! A frog!” Sodapop pointed to a mossy rock beside the path as they wandered. It hopped away as the leaves crunched under Johnny's foot nearby.
“Mhm, there's a squirrel over there,” Soda spun to watch the fluffy gray animal skitter across the forest floor. “Oh, and right there.”
“Oh shut up!” Soda laughed as he spotted Johnny's head jerking towards him. The cocky smile on the brunette's lips only grew. Sodapop was easy to tease, and the probability of him getting pissy about it was non-existent, at least compared to Dally.
It was nice, everything about the trip was damn nice.
The rope bridge had swayed under them, feeling more unsafe than anything but of course, anything that brought some kind of thrill put a massive, glowing grin on Sodapop Curtis’ face. If Johnny were honest, the rush made him feel good too, the energy pumping through his veins as the bridge squirmed under them and the wind billowed through his dark hair.
Glancing down, they could see a small crowd gathered on the rocky shore between the two cliffs. They waved up at them, seeming more like mice than people from that distance.
Still, their excited cheers climbed the cliff faces.
“Welcoming bunch, ain’t they.” Sodapop laughed. Johnny smiled softly, easily slipping back into their voyage onwards.
The path was beautiful, following the edge of the cliff face with a good view out to sea that looked over the sea stacks and the foaming white waters crashing against the rocks. The forest was lush and hulking like ancient times before people ever got to see the world.
Johnny could only gaze up at the foliage, eyes constantly moving at the pretty chittering of birds and the rustling of the wind around them.
“We gotta send Darry a postcard,” Sodapop said breathily, he was just as in awe as Johnny.
“As if he doesn’t already have enough,” Johnny teased. Sodapop just shook his head, his smile every present on his features. The man had sent dozens of postcards and photos home for his brother. It was like every time they walked into a gift shop he had dropped a nickel for one. In every mailbox they saw, Sodapop was slipping an envelope through.
“He deserves a chance to see a glimpse of this stuff. Don’t act like you don’t want Pony to look through them when he gets home.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Johnny conceded. Sodapop was right, he had been hoping Darry would show them to Ponyboy.
The sound of their shoes scraping on the dirt path merged with the gentle sounds of nature around them. Occasionally they would kick pebbles with soft pattering in front of them in a cascade.
Johnny almost didn’t hear the clattering of rocks on rocks.
Then he felt like he was tipping, a light squeak falling from his lips as he grew unbalanced. The ground was crumbling beneath his foot, dragging him down with the collapsing ground as it shifted down the cliff face. His eyes widened as he froze, the world going silent around him as the events moved forward.
He was falling off the cliff.
“Johhny!” Sodapop’s shout was the last coherent thing he made out for a moment as everything shot into a dizzying speed.
Johnny gritted his teeth as heat burned through his arms, reminding him of the flames that haunted him since he was a teenager in that church.
He shouted, his eyes scrunched closed as he dangled. His feet kicked out for purchase but only slipped down the smooth rockface. His heart was pounding so hard he couldn’t think. His forehead was pressed into the cold stone as he shook.
“Johnny, c’mon kid.” Sodapop’s desperate calls ripped through the panic.
“Soda!” Johnny cried back. He glanced up and found his heart stopping.
Sodapop’s hand was wrapped around Johnny’s, his arm extended farther than it should have. As Johnny’s dark eyes traveled up, he found Sodapop’s face twisted in pain, his teeth bared as he groaned up into the air with his eyes scrunched closed. His other hand was barely grasped onto a rock, barely a foot away from the path they’d originally been walking on.
He could see the tautness of Sodapop’s muscles and the strain in his shoulders from bearing the weight. The wind whipped around them as the sharp scent of the sea overtook them.
“Soda!” Johnny called, his hand grasping desperately for the damp hand in his.
“I can’t-” Soda groaned, the blond shook as he tried to drag himself upward. His body didn’t budge except for the slight slip of his hand on the barely graspable rock.
“Help!” Johnny screamed, his gaze shifting to the beach they’d left not far behind them. The distance wasn’t anything to scoff at but the gathering of people there seemed to crowd on the edge of the waves. Through his teary eyes, Johnny could see them pointing and waving frantically toward the cliff.
“They see us! Someone will come. Just hold on.” Johnny called, glancing up at the tight expression on Sodapop’s face.
“I can’t pull us up,” Soda was gasping, his words coming out raspy and quivering from the effort.
“I know, just hold on. They’re gonna help!” Johnny’s chest was pounding out of control. His eyes shifted to the foaming ocean below him. He couldn’t imagine surviving hitting the water like that. How would he even get out? How would he survive the current?
A bright light shot into the sky from the bank, glimmering despite the sun's rays.
“See! They have a flare.” Johnny grimaced, trying to shift into a better hold on Soda’s hand.
“Johnny,” Soda grunted. He glanced down and their eyes met. “Do you trust me?”
Johnny’s heart stopped. Something about Soda’s words crawled under his skin, shooting something scarier than the drop below them through Johnny’s body. His breath shook as he tried to remember words.
“Duh,” Johnny panted.
“I need you to kick off with your legs and let go.”
Johnny stared at him, his body shaking, both from his own terror and Soda's muscles screaming. Let go? As in fall in the water? Johnny glanced at the beach, the people screaming and waving. He glanced at the flare and the speck of a boat deep in the sea. He took in a shaky breath.
“No,” He hated the way his voice quivered.
This was nothing like the fire or the bridge. It felt like killing Bob. It was an adrenaline rush, that was for sure but it didn't feel good. Johnny felt more scared than he had ever felt.
“Johnny, I'm slipping, I can't hold on.” Soda's desperation leaked from his voice like a melting icicle. “If you kick off, you won't hit the rocks.”
“I'm scared,” Johnny's tears fell free, a few flying with the wind.
“I know, you just gotta go.” Soda flashed a tense smile.
“What about you?” Johnny couldn't bear to see something happen to Soda. Sure, Johnny could handle possibly falling to his death off a cliff. He wasn't ready to die, but dammit if he had a chance to live he'd take it, so long as Soda was there with him.
“I'll be able to hold on longer if it's just my weight.” Soda swallowed thickly, nodding his head at Johnny with a tight-lipped smile.
Johnny stared, his body tense and quivering. Soda wasn't doing much better with the way his forearm muscles bulged and the violent shaking running through him. The way he shriveled under the pressure, head dipping as he fought the urge to give in. Johnny drew a shaky breath, trying to find any kind of farewell just in case, but he'd never been good with words, or goodbyes.
So Johnny gathered his legs beneath him, feet against the rock as he shifted for purchase. Soda let out a short scream, his hand clenching around Johnny's. Johnny squeezed back.
Their eyes met, two pairs of dark brown eyes on each other.
Eyes like two brothers.
Johnny felt Soda's hand loosening so he pushed, releasing Soda's hand, feeling the man let go the moment he felt the pressure released.
His stomach flipped as he fell, everything loud in his ears as he fell through the air.
Johnny started to beg that the water was deep and clear of rocks when he felt the spray of the waves and braced for impact. Still, he didn't expect it to feel like he landed on concrete. Freezing cold concrete that swallowed him, dragging him down and down into the nothingness.
Johnny hurt all over, his body throbbing and freezing. It felt like his heart stilled, the breath that was in his lungs being slammed from him.
He held his mouth closed, fighting the jerk in his chest that craved oxygen he didn't have.
He felt like a ragdoll in a damn dryer.
His eyes burned from the salt, no matter how tight he held his eyes closed. He forced his body to be still, letting the waves have their way with him, hoping the current would drag him further out closer to the boat or at least out of the way of the rocks.
As if to spite him, he slammed into something solid, right against his chest like a damn elephant's foot crashing down on him.
He screamed, with what air he didn't know but he found it and let it loose into the dark, foaming waves.
He clamped his lips shut after, sinking, trying to spit the nasty water from his mouth but it was only replaced with more. He got sucked deeper, dragged down and away. The only way he could really tell was the pop of his ears and the harsh suction of the water.
Then, everything stilled.
He still hurt like he'd been hit by a train, and he was still icy cold. His chest still burned for air and his head was foggy, his chest thumped as his lungs tried to force him to breathe.
He was still, suspended in the dark waters.
He jerked, kicking furiously. He used his arms, swimming for the surface with trained skill. Him and Soda had stopped at just about every body of water they'd found that summer, he'd had plenty of practice.
Well, he did know how to swim back in Tulsa but he'd never been too keen on getting in the water with the gang. Too many pranksters.
Soda wasn't any better, but Johnny was bolder now.
Johnny was breathing the moment he broke the surface. At least, as much as you could call his coughs and sputters breathing. He kicked and choked, screaming out nonsense into the air. The water was still rough, crashing around him but it was nothing compared to how it was by the rocks.
Just as soon as Johnny surfaced, there was a splash beside him.
A red and white life preserver.
Johnny grasped for it with all the energy he had left. His arms and legs were burning. His whole body hurt and his lungs were on fire from the salt and exertion. His eyes stung and his chest pounded violently in the wake of the incident.
“C’mon, kid!” A man hollered, tugging him in.
“Goddamn! The boy can’t even be 18!” Another squawked. They yanked him from the water the moment he was close enough. The man forced his waterlogged hair from his face, pressing the dark hair back so it looked like he’d greased it. Johnny wanted to defend himself, to tell them he was actually 20 and damn well acted it. He was just to worn out.
“They gotta hurry up, that kid ain’t got anything left in him.” Johnny thought the sailor was talking about him until he followed the man’s gaze back to the cliff.
“Can we move in closer?” Sodapop was dangling there, small on he massive rock. Johnny swallowed. He had fallen from there? Sodapop was still up there?
“Waters too rough-”
Then, Sodapop jerked, his hand slipping from where he was gripping. The man slid a few feet, no doubt slicing himself up good before catching a hold with both hands. It would hopefully spare him extra time, but something about the way Soda’s legs scrambled…
“Jesus Christ, the kid’s not gonna hold!” Someone shouted.
Just like that, Soda’s arms gave.
“Soda!” Johnny yelled, his voice crackily and weak as he tried to dart forward. Big hands grabbed at him, pulling him back and trying to turn away but the image was seared into his brain.
Sodapop slid across the rockface, thumping over ridges and little wedges. His body twisted through the air, his plummet lengthened by each contact he made. The flashes of Sodapop’s golden locks were a harsh reminder of the glorious morning they’d had.
How had things changed so fast?
Then, Sodapop hit the water.
There was no splash, no ripple in the churning masses of water. The foam of the tide was unyielding as it thrashed and churned, swallowing Sodapop whole.
He was just gone.