By the time dinner was over, she was feeling a little more like herself. Returning to her room, she read over what she’d written earlier, shivering as she relived the experience. This was definitely her best piece. After fixing a few of the typos and grammatical errors she saved the document and took some photos of the dagger. Once the short story and accompanying photos were posted on her blog, a few tag words added so interested people could find it, she checked the time.
A grin escaped. Hudson had been right. It was midnight. She sent him a text message to let him know the story was on her blog and waited for his reply. It didn’t come. Thinking he was asleep, she got ready for bed. She’d worry about homework tomorrow. She was in bed, the light out, when a message came. Checking the screen she found it was from Hudson.
You are amazing. You obviously find weapons extremely inspiring. That has to be your best writing yet.
Smiling, she sent xox in reply before placing her phone on her bedside drawers and trying to go to sleep. It was a long time coming as the glimpses of the story she’d created kept returning. Should she have written the other ending? The one where the girl died? She didn’t know. And still didn’t know when she woke the next morning feeling like she’d barely slept.
The morning was rushed as she tried to complete her homework and get ready for school. She didn’t have time to see if there were any comments on her story. It wasn’t until Thursday afternoon that she found the time to check. The last few days had been spent doing an assignment due that day. She’d only remembered it on Monday.
There were the typical positive comments from her regular readers as well as a couple from them about what a dark story it was. Partway through the comments was one from a new reader.
Morning Reflections: You should put up a photo of where you found the dagger. It would add to the story. Make it more interesting.
She rested her fingers on the keyboard. It was a good suggestion. Maybe she could get Hudson to take her there. She sent Hudson a text message before returning to replying to the comments about the story.
Glimpses: I’ll see what I can do this weekend.
She was surprised when her comment was nearly immediately answered.
Morning Reflections: Sunrise would be a perfect time. Like in your story. I can almost see it from the words you’ve used to paint the scene. I’d love to see if the photos match my imagination.
Glimpses: Thank you. I’m glad you enjoyed what I wrote.
A message came through on her phone. It was from Hudson. He’d sent her a printscreen of a map with an area circled. Other than the river, the closest entrance to the location was a picnic area that had to be about a fifteen to twenty minute walk from where Hudson had circled. Sunrise photos would be perfect. She had plans for Saturday, but Sunday was free. She sent Hudson a text.
How about taking me there Sunday morning? At sunrise.
I’ll be up the coast. Why don’t I meet you at the nearby picnic area?
Think you can manage to be on time?
She chuckled when he sent a smiley face. He better be.
* * *
The rest of the week sped by and Sunday morning Dina woke before her alarm went off. She’d had a few other people comment on what a great idea photos of the location would be when she’d mentioned her plans in the comments and still more who had commented on the emotions the story evoked, including several new visitors to her blog. She’d written another story Friday night, about a key Hudson had found for her. She had a feeling he’d found it during the week but had kept it for a peace offering next time he was late. Like he’d been Friday night. He better be on time this morning.
As soon as she was ready, she sent Hudson a text to remind him not to be late then collected the car keys from the kitchen bench. She had to have her mum’s car back by one. That should give her more than enough time.
It was dark outside and the roads were quiet. She reached the picnic area well before she expected and sat in the car waiting for Hudson. She tried to send him a text to let him know she was already there, but coverage was poor and the message couldn’t be sent.
Getting bored with waiting, she slipped her phone into a pocket of her jeans and got out to pace the picnic area. She checked the time twice, finally giving up on the idea of Hudson arriving before sunrise. Already the morning was getting lighter, a greyness to the sky heralding the impending arrival of the sun. If she wanted those sunrise photos she better get moving. Locking the car, she took one last look at the time before she slipped her phone into her pocket and headed for the location where Hudson had found the dagger. A few of her readers had suggested she take photos of the dagger at the location, but she hadn’t wanted to carry a weapon with her. Knowing her luck she’d be pulled over for a random breath test or something and the police would charge her for being in possession of a weapon.
There was just enough light for her to find her way through the trees, the sound of leaves crunching beneath her sneakers. She reached the river as the sun crested the horizon, sending colour across the sky and water. Taking out her phone, she took several photos. They couldn’t help turning out well with how beautiful the scenery was.
“The reflections on the water make everything seem bigger. More vast. More important.”
She spun at the words, trying to see who stood in the shadows of the trees. It was impossible. Slipping her phone into her pocket, she took a step to the side and further away from the man. “I didn’t mean to disturb you. I’ll leave you to enjoy the sunrise in peace.” Where was Hudson? Why did he always have to be late?
“There’s enough space for both of us to enjoy the reflections on the water.” He came towards her, moving from shadow to shadow, a hoodie creating shadows to hide his face.
Dina frowned, the voice seeming familiar. “I was taking photos. I’m done now. Enjoy the view.” She moved further away, angling away from the water’s edge.
“What were you taking photos of?”
She felt like saying she didn’t want to talk to him. Didn’t want to be in the same area as him. His voice made her skin crawl. Yet there was no reason why it should. It was an ordinary, friendly voice. She thought of the dagger. That had to be it. The story was on her mind. “I was taking photos of the area. To post them on my blog.” She kept moving away from the man and away from the water.
He continued to move towards her, splashes of sunlight falling across him in patches as he moved in and out of the shadows. “What sort of blog?”
“Stories. I post the stories I write.” Why wouldn’t he stay still? She continued to retreat.
“Did you bring any props with you? Something to make the photos interesting.”
“No. It wasn’t necessary. The view is more than enough without needing anything else.” She stumbled on a stick hidden by the leaf litter. Looking down, her attention was caught by a nearby branch lying on the leaves, about a metre long. Chills ran down her spine and she reached for the nearby tree. Remembered pain exploded through her head. There had to be hundreds of branches lying around in the bush that looked exactly like that one.
“You left it behind?”
Her gaze was drawn upwards. She had no idea how he’d managed to close the distance between them. Her mouth dropped open when she saw the hood was pushed back. “No.” The word was little more than a breath of air, an exclamation rather than an answer to his question. It was impossible. Utterly impossible. Blue eyes stared at her, brown hair carelessly styled. There was no friendly smile. The tree she gripped was the one the girl had been slammed against in her story. A sense of unreality washed over her.
“Where is it? How did you find it? And how do you know? Only two of us know what happened and I saw her die. Held her under the water, face up so I could watch the life leave her eyes. I saw the vastness reflected in the water around her as she joined it.”
When he reached for her it broke through the shock holding her frozen, fear rushing in as she ducked beneath his arm and tried to run. He
crashed into her, his solid body slamming her into the rough bark of the tree.
“How did you know?”
She didn’t have a clue. It was a story. Only a story. It couldn’t have happened. She’d always thought it was her imagination. Something brought on by her desire to be a writer. “Let me go.”
“I want my dagger. It’s mine. Do you hear me? Mine.”
She struggled to breathe with how tightly he held her against the tree. “It’s in the car.” Where was Hudson when she needed him? He wasn’t here. She was on her own. A pity she also wasn’t alone.
“You better not be lying to me.”
He spoke against her ear, the words sounding conversational, no less threatening with the mild tone. “It’s in the car.” She had no idea what she was going to do when she reached the car and he found out she was lying. “I didn’t want to carry it around with me. It didn’t seem safe.”
His grip loosened slightly. “You think life is safe?” His lips curved into a smile. “So innocent. You have no idea what life is really like.”
She knew how he felt. Had experienced the emotions herself. The power, anticipation, satisfaction. Could remember what it had been like to be in his skin. The strength of his hands, the power in his body, the feel of the dagger in his hand. He was the one who didn’t know. “It’s not real. The power you feel. It’s a lie.”
“You have no idea.”
She did. The fear receded. She knew far more than he realised. “The feel of the dagger in your hand. The worn leather moulded to your grip from years of use. I know.” Her words were soft.
“It was my father’s. I took it from him.” His words were equally quiet.
She held his gaze, feeling his grip loosen a little more. “The sharpness of the blade, blood staining skin, the contrast of colours.”
He slowly nodded his head. “Poetry. Pure poetry.”
“What was her name?”
“It doesn’t matter. She was more than her name.” He paused a moment. “You have her eyes. The same pale green. But not the fear. Strange you should have her eyes.”
When she felt his grip relax a little more, she burst from it, racing forward to grab hold of the branch. Glimpses of the girl rushed through her mind. “Meredith. Her name was Meredith.” As he came for her, she drew the branch back, swinging it at him. The force of the impact vibrated through her arms. The man staggered, calling out as she dropped the branch and ran towards the picnic area, thoughts of Meredith lingering.
She wasn’t about to end up like the girl with the same coloured eyes as her. By the time she heard pursuit, she could see the car through the trees. Keeping her gaze on her destination she pushed herself to run faster. Her breath came in harsh gasps and her legs burned. None of it mattered. Safety was ahead. Behind, the crashing sound of the man chasing her through the trees came closer.
Bursting into the picnic area, she didn’t slow, aiming for her car, about to draw the keys from her pocket. The sound of an approaching vehicle had her looking towards the main road. At the sight of Hudson driving towards her she nearly collapsed at the relief that swamped her. Changing direction, she aimed for his car instead, wrenching the door open before he had stopped. “Go.”
“What’s-”
“Now. Get out of here.” She fumbled for her phone, not caring about her seat belt.
Hudson reversed back the way he’d come. “What-” He broke off as the man burst out of the tree line. “What’s going on?”
There was no time to explain. Her phone call was being answered and she had to find a way to convince the police that not only had the man attacked her, but also killed Meredith. She had a feeling it’d be best to tell them about the other girl later.
* * *
Dina sat in the interview room with her head in her hands, tempted to tell her mum to stop patting her back. There was nothing wrong with her other than no one believed what she was telling them. Behind her Hudson paced back and forth in the miniscule room. They’d brought the man in for questioning, having found him not far from where she’d left him, walking up the road to where he’d parked his car.
At the sound of the door opening, Dina lowered her hands, nearly groaning when she saw it was the detective again. He’d been the most sceptical. He closed the door behind him, crossing the room to stand beside Dina, holding out a pocket watch, a short chain attached to the top of it.
“Tell me who owned this.”
She wrapped her fingers around the windup watch, drawing it from his hand, pushing her mum’s hand away from her. “This is yours.” She was almost certain she was right.
“Who owned it before me.”
“It doesn’t work like that.” She ran her fingers around the edge, stopping when she found a catch.
“You expect me to believe you and all you can do is give me a weapon covered in your prints and a story you posted online.”
The pocket watch came open, the back compartment holding a lock of black hair. She ran her fingers over it, letting the glimpses of other lives come to her. “A uniform. Army. Old looking. Maybe in the forties. A woman wearing it, a man holding her hand as he stares into her eyes, love filling her eyes, a smile for him. The same woman again, a lace cloth wrapping the baby she holds, her gaze focused on the child, the man’s hand on the lace-covered head.”
The detective took the pocket watch from her, snapping it closed. “I need more than parlour tricks. Where is the body? The girl has been missing for a month. No trace of her. The dagger isn’t enough to tie him to her.”
She struggled to pull away from the glimpses of the woman and child, waving aside her mum’s protests. “Water. Meredith is in the water. Where he watched her die. The water is the key.” Her mouth dropped open as she stared at the detective.
“Was there something else?”
She shook her head. “Morning Reflections.” Somehow he’d found her blog post and she’d accidentally given him a time to meet her. “The water is important to him. The power of it. The vastness. The way it can’t be stopped. The way he thinks he can’t be stopped.” She fell silent for a second. The man needed to be stopped. “You’ll find her in the water.” She pushed aside her mum’s hand, facing her. “I’m okay.” She could feel the branch in her hands, the impact as it connected with the man. “I am.” She was more than okay. She was alive.
“Can we go now?” Hudson asked.
The detective nodded, calling in another officer to finish off the process. Before they could leave there were statements to sign and contact details to confirm. Outside they fell silent, Hudson holding her hand tightly as he led the way to his car. He gave them a lift to the picnic area to collect the car, following them as they returned home, standing at her front door and holding her close before he headed for his own home. After her day, all Dina wanted to do was sleep. She showered and had a snack first, falling asleep the moment she was in bed.
* * *
The days passed quickly and Dina kept expecting to hear from the police. In the meantime, Hudson brought her items to catch glimpses from, searching secondhand shops for things that might have a strong feeling remaining attached to them. He kept apologising for not being there when she’d needed him.
She’d assured him he had been there exactly when she’d needed him. Just like he always told her he was. She had a feeling the man wouldn’t have come forward if Hudson had been with her. That he might still be out there killing innocent girls as he tried to capture the elusive feeling of power he coveted. She’d almost been relieved when Hudson had been late meeting up with her Wednesday morning before class. Things were getting back to normal.
It was Thursday afternoon, not long after she’d arrived home from school, that she answered the door to find the detective. She didn’t know what to say, standing there staring at him, her gaze frequently drawn to the large yellow envelope he held.
“Can I come in?”
She shrugged. “I suppose.” She led him to the lounge room, wondering if she
should ring her mum, who’d gone grocery shopping. She stood by one of the armchairs, not sure if she should sit since the detective remained standing.
“We found the body. I thought you’d like to know before the information is released on the news tonight.”
She nodded. He could have rung.
He held up the envelope. “Could you hold something for me?”
She almost smiled at the irony of the situation. On Sunday he’d told her she could be charged for giving false information. “Not everything gives me glimpses.”
“Can you try?” He opened the envelope, holding it out to her. “And can I record what you say?” He held up a recording device.
Nodding, she peered inside, seeing a torn piece of material stained with dirt and rust. She was reaching for the material when she realised it wasn’t rust. It was dried blood. She froze. “Who does it belong to?”
“I was hoping you could tell me that.”
She met his gaze. “You don’t know?”
He grinned. “Yes, but I haven’t a chance in hell of convincing anyone if I give you the answers.”
The grin reminded her of Hudson. The one he gave when he was late and wanting her to forgive him. A smile reluctantly formed. “I’ll see what I can do.” The smile faded as she took the material from the envelope, worried the glimpses wouldn’t form. But they did. Clear sharp images, which she described to the detective. Ones she hoped would lead to discovering a child who was alive. A child they might be able to rescue.
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—ABOUT THE AUTHOR—
Avril Sabine is an Australian author who writes mostly young adult and children's speculative fiction. She has been writing since she was a young child and wanted to be an author the moment she realised someone wrote the books she loved to read. Avril is the author of more than forty books, including the Demon Hunter series, Dragon Blood series, Realms Of The Fae series, Elf Sight and The Irish Wizard.
That Moment When: An Anthology of Young Adult Fiction Page 65
