by Cameo Renae
Mr. Young found Bizarre Foods on the Travel Channel to keep him occupied. I felt bad for him. His wife probably dragged him to the hospital to visit me. He slouched back in his seat trying to find a comfortable position, but he looked very awkward in the small chair. He finally pulled it closer to the wall where he kicked his feet up and rested them on the ledge.
The Young’s probably had a million questions to ask me about what happened. Chief Cross must have given them some details, but I had the feeling they wanted to hear straight from the source.
I kept eating slowly, evading the inevitable. I was uncomfortable on the hot seat. I wished I could just close my eyes and - POOF! – Michael would appear to me and I could ask him what information I should or shouldn’t divulge to his parents.
This was going to be much worse than talking to Chief Cross, I just knew it. I didn’t want them to think I was a whacko.
Mrs. Young was fidgeting. Her perfectly manicured hands twisted nervously around each other. She tried to watch the TV, but she wasn’t focused. Every little sound made her turn. She twisted back to me, a few times, and smiled, probably checking to see if I was finished. I knew she wanted to say something.
Mrs. Young was very beautiful. She had a petite frame, a few inches shorter than me, and had fair skin. Her light brown hair with golden highlights curled perfectly down her back. Today she was wearing jeans and a red fluffy sweater, which looked to be expensive.
Mr. Young was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. He was tall, around six-three, had dark brown hair – all slicked back - and dark sharp features. Michael definitely pulled the best from both of them.
I tried to eat as much as I could, only leaving half an egg’s Benedict and half of the potatoes. I was at my limit, and my stomach felt like it would explode if I took one more bite. I folded the cover back over the food and handed it to my mom who took it and added it to her bag.
“Thanks so much. That was great,” I said to the Young’s, patting my stomach.
“Oh you’re welcome. I’m glad you liked it,” Mrs. Young said warmly.
I pushed the tray aside and cleared my throat. Mrs. Young didn’t waste any time. She twisted her body to my direction and scooted closer to me. I could see from the corner of my eye, Mr. Young had turned his head to look at us.
Mrs. Young grabbed my hands and leaned in close. My mom slightly leaned in too.
“Lizzy,” she whispered. “I know this is going to sound crazy, but I had a dream of Michael last night.” Her eyes filled with tears. “It was so real. I hugged him and talked to him. I asked him questions and he answered them. He told me that he wasn’t in any pain, and he told me how much he loved me.” Tears streamed down her frail cheeks.
I was speechless, and was glad that they had experienced Michael too.
“I dreamt of him too,” Mr. Young said from across the room. All three pairs of eyes turned to him. “We were hunting, at the spot we go to every year. He was having a conversation with me, like he was still alive. He told me he loved me, and thanked me for being his dad. He told me to be strong.” Mr. Young’s voice started to tremble. He turned, and buried his face in his hands. That was so unlike Mr. Young, and watching him cry was heart wrenching.
Loud sobs echoed on all sides. There wasn’t one dry eye in the room.
Mrs. Young turned back to me, gently dabbing the wet beneath her eyes. “Michael wanted me to make sure you were taken care of. He told me that he wanted everything in his savings to be transferred over to you. He also wanted you to have his car. The insurance company is going to replace it.”
I was shocked and overwhelmed. I knew with his college fund, birthday gifts, and odd jobs, he had over $250,000.00 in his account.
“I can’t. There’s no way. You’re his parents. Everything should go to you.” I stressed. “I can’t take Michael’s money, or his car. It’s not like we were married.”
“Lizzy, we want to fulfill the last wishes of our son. We wouldn’t be able to live with ourselves if we didn’t. He wanted to be with you and take care of you the rest of his life. He wants you to have his things. A small token of his love,” Mrs. Young reiterated.
“He told me the same thing. Those were his last wishes, for you to be taken care of Elizabeth,” Mr. Young said in a weak voice.
I was stunned speechless. Michael. There wasn’t much I could say. They’d already made up their minds, and were very adamant about keeping their promises, especially to their son.
I knew my mom was probably freaking out. I turned to her. Her eyes were wide and filled with tears. She rubbed and patted my arm, as if to say, it would be alright.
“You’ve seen him too… haven’t you?” Mrs. Young asked quietly, staring intently into my eyes.
“Yes. I’ve dreamt of him almost every night. He was the one that helped me escape from that murderer. And when I was lost in the woods, he actually appeared to me, and led me to the road where Emily and Tyler found me.”
Everyone’s eyes were boring into me.
“He did?” Mrs. Young asked, holding back tears.
I swallowed hard. “Yes. He came to me when I had given up. I thought I was going to die.”
I heard a gasp come from my mom’s direction.
“Did he tell you how he died?” Mrs. Young questioned. “He didn’t share that with me.”
“Yes. He was murdered.”
“I knew it. That man drugged him, didn’t he? They found a heavy dose of drugs in Michael’s blood, but I knew my son never touched drugs,” she sobbed.
“Yes. That was how he passed.” I nodded sadly. “And, Michael never, ever touched drugs,” I assured her.
“He also told me that it wasn’t Tyler’s fault. He didn’t want us to blame him for his death. I’d like to talk to Tyler and let him know that, but I haven’t seen him around,” she said, dabbing her tears again.
My mom remained silent and still, aside from the occasional sob which let me know she was still there.
“He came last night with Emily. I’m sure he would love to hear what you have to say.” I knew Tyler would heal faster if he knew that Michael’s parents didn’t blame him.
“Well, maybe we can call his dad, and set up a time to meet with him,” she said turning to Mr. Young, who nodded in agreement.
“Well, we don’t want to take up too much of your time,” Mrs. Young said grabbing my hands in hers.
“I actually have all the time in the world,” I noted. Everyone laughed.
“Well, I have to go get ready for a house showing this afternoon,” Mrs. Young said, standing up off of the bed. Mr. Young stood and pushed his chair back to the wall and handed my mom the remote.
“Well… Elizabeth, if you need anything… anything at all… please let us know,” Mr. Young said walking over to me, giving me a warm hug.
“Yes, honey. We are here for you. Just because Michael is --” she paused. Her eyes welled with tears again but she took in a deep breath, regaining her composure. “You’re still family, Lizzy. You are welcome at our home anytime. We will work out the details of Michael’s affairs when you are well. Please call us if you need anything.”
Seeing her cry broke my heart. I couldn’t help but cry too. “Thank you so much. Both of you. And thank you so much for this room,” I said appreciatively.
“It was the least we could do,” Mrs. Young said. “We love you Lizzy,” she whispered giving me a hug.
“I love you too,” I replied.
They both hugged my mom and told her goodbye before they left.
My mom stayed for about an hour longer, but she had her first rehabilitation treatment which she couldn’t miss.
I finally had a chance for some alone time.
Chapter 14
My cell phone rang as I stepped into the bathroom. It was probably Emily. Her timing was impeccable. She was probably calling to complain about missing her breakfast with Tyler. I continued to brush my teeth while the phone rang.
As soon as I was finished I
picked it up… just as she hung up. Figures. I was about to put it back down when it rang again.
“Hey Em! What’s up?” I answered cheerfully.
“I knew you’d pick up sooner or later,” a low, raspy, evil voice replied. Every single hair on my body stood on end. It was Buck, calling from Emily’s cell phone. A thought of horror, and my nightmare, shot through my mind.
“What do you want? Where’s Emily?” I asked roughly.
“Lizzy… Lizzy… Lizzy. Did ya think ya could just leave me without sayin’ goodbye?” he teased in a cold tone.
“Where’s Emily?” I demanded.
“Oh she’s a little tied up at the moment with her boyfriend. Oh wait… It seems she really wants to say hello.”
I heard shuffling and loud breathing on the other end.
“LIZZY!” Emily cried hysterically into the phone. “HELP US!”
“Em, are you okay?”
“NO! PLEASE! YOU HAVE TO HELP US!” she wailed.
“Where are you?”
“I-I don’t know!” She screamed and it sounded as if the phone on her end dropped. He must have taped her mouth shut again, because her cries became muffled.
Fear, panic, terror and anxiety overcame me at once.
“What the hell do you want?” I said in my bravest voice.
“Ya know what I want. I want my money, and I want ya to bring it to me… alone. One thousand dollars in cash. If I have any hint that there’ll be police or anyone else involved… your friends will die.” I knew he was telling the truth because he was already a heartless murderer.
“I’ve only got eight-hundred dollars. That’s everything I have in my account.”
He paused. “Well, that’s good to know but the price still stands at one-thousand, and not a penny less.”
“How am I supposed to get that?”
“You figure that out. I’ll give ya an hour. Yer friend’s Audi’s in parking lot. The keys are in the ashtray. I’ll be givin’ ya a call at exactly eleven forty-five. Ya better be in the car and ready for directions. Don’t ya dare try pullin’ any funny business, or I’ll assure ya, they’ll die, and I’ll have fun doin’ it. Do ya get me?”
“Yes,” I said and hung up the phone. It was all happening again. What was I going to do? I couldn’t risk telling the police, and there was no one else I could turn too, who I trusted… that is, no one living.
“Michael, I need you now more than ever. I don’t know what to do,” I breathed, my heart pounding a million miles an hour.
I knew I’d have to go alone, but I needed a weapon. Michael gave me a hand gun, a few years back, which I’d hid in my closet behind my Christmas decorations. I hated guns, but Michael made me keep it… for security reasons. I never thought the day would come when I’d really need it. That was my best defense. My only defense. I’d have to make time and get it.
Well… That was much easier said than done… I still had to sneak out of the hospital, without being seen, while an officer was stationed down the hall… just for me. This wasn’t going to be easy.
I peeked out the doorway. The officer was occupied, reading a newspaper with a cup of coffee in his hand. I had to come up with a plan. Maybe I’d be able to get by if he thought I was a visitor.
I quickly dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, and pulled a beanie down, low on my head. I decided to take my get-well balloons. They should make a good shield.
I peered down the hall again. Officer Jimmy had become even more distracted, talking to one of the nurses; his back facing me. Across the hall, voices rang, “Good- bye!” A younger couple was hugging an older patient in the room directly across mine. They looked like they were getting ready to leave. This was a huge break, and probably my one and only chance of escape.
The couple walked out into the hall and I stepped out right behind them. As we neared the officer, I stepped up to the right side of the girl, attempting to shield my face with the balloons.
“Hi, how are you doing?” I asked her, trying to blend in as a visitor.
She turned to me and smiled. “I’m fine, thank you.”
“So who were you visiting?”
“Our grandmother. She had a stroke, but she’s doing a lot better.”
The officer still had his back turned to me, but the nurse was looking in our direction.
“I’m so sorry to hear that,” I said turning my face away from her. My pulse raced as we walked toward the front desk. The officer sounded like he was flirting. What would have happened if the murderer slipped by while he was flirting? Ugh… At least it was a distraction while I needed it.
As soon as we stepped into the elevator and the doors closed, I let out a sigh of relief. The couple looked at me strange, but remained quiet. I’d passed the first obstacle. Now I had to get the gun.
I was a horrible a shot. When Michael would take me for target practice, I’d always missed the target. I mean… not even close. The whole target would be clean when I finished my round. Who knows where those stray bullets ended up? Well, hopefully I wouldn’t need to use it. But I knew that I had to prepare myself mentally and physically for anything, especially with a ruthless murderer. Michael told me, “If you’re ever in a situation and you pull a gun, be prepared to use it, or they’ll take it and use it on you.” I knew Buck would have no hesitation shooting me.
I tried to psych myself out, just in case, but at the same time I was scaring myself senseless. How would I be able to pull this off? I barely managed to save myself the last time, and if it weren’t for Michael, I know I’d be dead. And now I have to save three of us?
Bing!
The elevator door opened at the bottom floor, and I quickly made my way to the parking lot. Emily’s car was sitting at the far corner. I ran to it, opened the door, and checked the ashtray. The keys were right where he said.
I had thirty-seven minutes to get home, get the gun, and be back in the parking lot for further instructions. I put the car in “S”, which I assumed meant speed (but actually means sport). The Audi was fast and I arrived at my cottage in only eleven minutes. If I were driving in my Jeep, it would’ve taken at least twenty.
I dashed up the front stairs, grabbed the key hidden under my dead plant, and swung the door open. Once I was in I ran to my bedroom, threw open the closet doors, and yanked the Christmas decorations from the top shelf. I found the little shoebox tucked in the back, and carried it to my bed. My fingers were shaking as I lifted the lid, and un-wrapped the old shirt from around the gun, holding it in my hands. It was a .357 magnum Colt Python revolver. Michael said that this was the best revolver ever made and that it was no longer in production. It was supposedly worth a lot of money.
If this piece of metal was going to save my life, or the lives of my friends, I’d say it was priceless. I grasped it, pointing it out the window and looked through its sight. This could literally make-or-break me.
I went to my nightstand and pulled open the top drawer. In the back was a box of bullets. I took a deep breath and began loading the ammunition into the revolving cylinder, one by one, just as Michael had showed me. It held six rounds. I checked and double checked to make sure the safety was on. That’s all I’d need… to shoot myself and die before rescuing my friends.
I’d never thought the day would come that I would be loading a gun, which could possibly be used to kill someone. But it would only be used in self-defense. He’d already tried to kill me once, and I knew he wouldn’t have a second thought of killing any one of us. That’s what he was; a cold blooded killer; a monster – cold and heartless. I had to see him as that. He murdered Michael, and now he’d pay.
I knew I didn’t have much time left. Fifteen minutes, thirteen seconds and counting… I threw on a warm jacket, tucked the box of remaining bullets in one pockets and the gun in the other, and then grabbed the keys and dashed out the door.
An old granny, driving about twenty miles-an-hour, pulled out in front of me pressing my patience. I was frustrated beyond words, an
d was so tempted to pass her on the double yellow line.
Was I destined to live the rest of my life condemned by Murphy’s Law? (If anything can go wrong…it will!)
I had three minutes to reach the hospital and was about seven minutes away. Luckily, the granny turned off onto a side street, so I hit the highway, and put the pedal-to-the-metal, flying towards the hospital. My hands began to tremble as I finally reached the lot. I parked in the first open stall – thirty three seconds and counting. I placed my cell phone on the dash and tucked my hand into my pocket. The cold metal of the gun sent a shiver up my spine. My heart beat furiously at the thought of using it.
Breathe in – breathe out. Breathe in- breathe out. It didn’t work. Nothing would work right now. What would Michael say? He’d tell me to be strong, but I was still physically weak from the last incident. I closed my eyes and pictured him sitting next to me, holding my hand, telling me everything was going to be okay.
Just then, my cell phone rang, startling me. It was Buck. I held the phone in my hand for a second and mustered enough courage to answer it.
“What?” I asked steadily.
“Did ya make it out?” he said in a smug voice.
“Yes.”
“Did anyone see ya?”
“No.”
“Did ya tell anyone?”
“No,” I huffed, gritting my teeth.
“Good girl,” he said darkly. “Now if ya do exactly as I tell ya, your friends will live, but if ya think you’re smarter than me and try anything, I’ll shoot em’. And I’ll start with your friend Emily here.” I could hear Emily’s cries of terror in the background. My stomach twisted, but it was rage that started to overwhelm me.
“What now?” I asked, keeping my tone even and firm.
“Get the money and bring it to me. Time is ticking and yer friends don’t have much of it.”
“Where do I bring it?”
“Call me when ya got my money. I’ll give ya further instructions. Understand?”
“Yes.” He hung up the phone abruptly. I was getting sick of taking orders from him. I wasn’t one for using vulgar language, but he was pushing me to my limit, and a million obscenities ran through my mind.
