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Nightmare in Niceville

Page 8

by Amberle Cianne


  I stared at him, then looked at the pictures of his smiling girls taped to the wall. I didn’t have any pictures of my girls. But I didn’t need any pictures. Lily and Ashley were mine, and when I got out of this prison cell, I would find them.

  “Want a sip?” I asked. I held up a bottle of whiskey that I had smuggled in. Little did he know, there were traces of arsenic in the liquid. He looked at me like I was insane, but I kept my face calm.

  “Afraid you won’t be able to handle the temptation when you’re out?” I taunted. He took the bottle from me then.

  I just needed to make sure that he didn’t get out. I wouldn’t let him take them from me. Not again.

  “To freedom,” he said as he took a sip.

  I smiled, knowing how this would turn out. It would only be a matter of time.

  “To your angels,” I said.

  And as he slowly dozed off, I walked to his side of the cell. I ran my hands along the pictures of Lily and Ashley, their faces smiling at me.

  The sirens blared. An inmate had died.

  The fire alarm blared.

  Time was running out, and I needed to find Lily.

  16

  Emily

  Oh my God. We were going to be saved! Someone had pulled the fire alarm! Please, please, someone save us soon!

  The man slung Sarah onto the floor, but kept me with him. My heart pounded. Sarah could only help me so much before he would hurt her too badly. I felt my stomach heave as I thought of what could have happened in the bathroom if Sarah hadn’t stepped in. What did he want from me now? My mind raced as he spoke.

  “All right little Emily. I’m trying something different this time. You will come with me to check for Lily.”

  “What do you want with Lily?” I interrupted.

  “That’s none of your business!” He spun his head around and his eyes were crazed with fury. He panted like a wild animal. He was an animal. I shrunk back, but he still had hold of my arm. Would the bruises ever go away?

  “Now come on,” he said after his breathing slowed and his expression calmed. I reached my hand out to Sarah and heard the sides of my throat scrape together as I tried to swallow the lump of fear. She reached out to me, just brushing my fingertips. The man pulled me through the dark.

  We stopped and I felt something cold touch my neck. Liquid slowly ran down my neck from the object. I felt no pain. It wasn’t my blood I felt on my skin. That knowledge made my stomach churn. I sucked in a breath to scream, but he covered my mouth.

  “Call out a name,” he whispered so faintly I scarcely heard it. I was frazzled and didn’t understand what he wanted.

  “Any name, just say it! Say Sarah!” he whispered frantically. He removed his hand from my mouth.

  “S–Sarah?” I stuttered.

  “Say Lily.”

  “Lily? Anybody?” I whimpered. My voice cracked.

  “It’s Jacob,” a strong voice whispered back. I felt my face crumple in despair and fought to keep my tears muffled. It had to be Jacob. Why couldn’t this theater be empty? But then the man would have taken me to every theater, making me call out my friends’ names. Another friend I would single-handedly kill.

  “Say, ‘Oh Jacob! It’s Emily, where are you?’” the man hissed. He pierced the point of the knife in my cheek. I whimpered and fought back the sobs in my chest.

  I repeated him gravely. It was silent for a long while. Good! Good Jacob, be smart!

  “Call his name! Ask where he is!” came the hiss.

  “Jacob?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Where are you?”

  “Tell him you want to be near him.” I did. “Go to him.” The hissing monster released me into the dark.

  “I–I’m going to try to find you.”

  “I’m over here, Emily,” Jacob whispered. I fumbled toward the black nothingness and bumped into his hard chest. I gasped, then I frantically grasped at his shirt, and I couldn’t hold my sobs back anymore. I could have been a two-year-old. My sobs were so loud, I felt him shudder. It hurt my ears, they were so loud. I was a lost child hugging my brother. He smelled like Tyler too. I imagined I was home hugging Tyler. He was holding me and rubbing my back. Crooning and shushing gently.

  “Jacob . . . you have . . . to run.” I whispered hoarsely through my sobs. I hoped to God the man didn’t hear me. Please, please let Jacob get away. But I knew in my heart that he wouldn’t.

  “Jacob, I’m so sorry! Oh God, I’m so sorry!” I pushed him away and fell to the floor, my ear-shattering sobs deafening. I couldn’t control myself.

  “He made me! Run Jacob run!”

  I collapsed to the floor and couldn’t get up. My body heaved up and down and shook as my chest sucked in breaths. Snot dripped down my face, but I didn’t care. I knew my eyes were bloodshot. I knew my hair was matted down with sweat and tears. I knew my makeup was gone. I knew my chest was splotched with red. I knew all of this, but I didn’t care. I was in another world, another dimension that was full of nothing but despair.

  “Where is Lily?” a dark voice said in the dark.

  “I don’t know anyone named Lily,” Jacob lied. He was a saint.

  “I’ll say it again. Where is Lily?”

  “Emily, I’m not mad! It’s okay!” Jacob yelled.

  I screamed in agony and clutched my chest. I had led the monster to him. Jacob was going to die because of me.

  “Shut up! Stop lying! I know one of you knows her!” the man shouted.

  “I don’t know her!” Jacob yelled back. I heard a thud and hoped to God that Jacob had hit the man.

  “Emily, if you make it, please tell my mom that I love her and I’m sorry!” Jacob’s strong voice shouted.

  “I will!” I screamed, and it died out into a sob. My head throbbed. I heard Jacob’s body hit the floor. I wept softly, then hands grabbed my shoulders, and I was dragged across the floor. I screamed like a child, kicked my legs, and threw my tantrum.

  “No!” I screamed, over and over.

  17

  Sarah

  Emily was still crying. I patted her shoulder. She actually had feelings for Jacob, and she had tricked him into his death. Poor Emily. It wasn’t her fault. It wasn’t any of our faults.

  The man pulled Emily and I by our hair everywhere we went. We were yanked to the next theater and shoved to the floor. He barely glanced at us before he walked into the theater; he didn’t have to repeat the consequences of running. A crumpled piece of paper fell to the ground behind him. I scrambled over and picked it up, then scooted back to Emily. I carefully unfolded the sheet of paper and read the scribbled writing:

  Sophia/Ashley

  Mackenzie/Lily

  Josie/Ellen

  I gasped seeing Lily’s name on the paper. “Emily! What’s Lily’s mom’s name?”

  “Ellen. Why?”

  “Look!” I handed her the sheet of paper. She shakily took the paper and read it quickly. Her eyes grew wide. I watched as the color drained from her face.

  “What do you think it means?” I asked.

  “I don’t know . . . Lily has things in her past, I don’t know if I should tell you, though. It’s personal . . .” she stopped talking and seemed lost in thought.

  “Emily, what’s going on?”

  “I can’t tell you!” Her ferocity shocked me. She put her head on her knees, her hands on her head, then pulled her hair.

  “Sarah,” she finally said, “I never told anyone this. Lily’s father tried to kill . . .”

  I sat stunned, cold chilling my veins. As Emily told me the story of Lily’s father, I almost threw up. Was that man Lily’s father?

  We heard nothing for a few moments, so when Max burst through the door, it made us jump. He flew down the hall and into the main entrance. The man ran out right after Max disappeared around the corner.

  “Where’d he go!” the man shouted, panting.

  “He went in there,” Emily said, pointing at the theater in front of us. The man hurrie
dly stalked away into the theater.

  “He’s going to know we lied,” I told her, using “we” instead of “you,” because we were in this together, to the very end.

  “I know, but I can’t help him kill another one of our friends,” she replied. She laid her head on my shoulder. My heart didn’t flutter. If Lily had done this, my heart probably would have sped up, but Emily was just my friend, and I was happy to have her as a friend and nothing more. If we made it out alive, this would only make us closer.

  I couldn’t believe that man could be related to Lily.

  I leaned my head against the wall and waited for help to come.

  18

  Lily

  I remembered going to the park with my father when Ashley was a newborn. My mother was laughing, her brown hair blowing in the breeze, sitting on a plaid blanket we had laid out on the grass. Ashley was a little bundle in her arms.

  My father had grabbed my hand and said, “Do you want to hold your baby sister, Lily?”

  I felt excitement tingle throughout my body. I had never held a baby before, and Ashley seemed so fragile with her bald head, her tiny hands and fingers, and her gummy mouth.

  “It’s okay, Lily,” my father had said with a smile. He gently placed his hand on my back, urging me forward.

  I held out my arms, and just as my mother was going to hand her off to me, Ashley sneezed. It scared me for a second, but I couldn’t help but laugh. It was so funny seeing a baby sneeze. Her little tiny nose, and the little sneeze-noise she made.

  “Isn’t she precious?” my mother had said. “She looks just like you, Lily.”

  I held out my arms again. I couldn’t wait to hold my baby sister.

  As I crouched in the darkness of the theater, I didn’t understand why that thought came to me. It was so vivid, so clear. I remembered my father stroking my back, laughing, kissing my mother on the cheek. They just looked so happy. We were so happy.

  What had happened?

  As I heard someone scream down the hall, I quietly sobbed into my palms.

  19

  Sarah

  The man dragged Emily out by her arms in flashes of blond, shaking hair. She was thrashing and screaming and kicking. He tossed her onto my lap, and she clung to me. Her body twitched and shook and heaved. I gathered her up in my arms and didn’t say a word. I just looked at the man with shock and hatred in my eyes.

  He turned and walked away down the hall to search.

  “Why aren’t you running away?” a low, shocked voice asked out of nowhere. I jumped, and Emily cringed so hard it seemed to hurt.

  “Max?” I said, horror-struck.

  “Why?” Emily cried out in a sob. No one answered.

  “If we run, we die sooner; if we stay, we might just live,” I explained. Max just stared at Emily, bewildered at the sight of her. He wasn’t understanding the danger of the situation.

  “Max, you need to go now,” I warned.

  “But you could hide!” he protested. “I can help you!” His eyes were full of earnest concern.

  “Max, go,” I whispered.

  I looked behind him and saw the man come out into the hall, the bloody knife in his hand. I didn’t take my eyes off of him, but told Max again to run. I squeezed Emily tighter to me, and she clung to me like we were each other’s stuffed animals.

  Max ran. The man threw the knife. Max fell to the ground. I blinked slowly. The man was pulling the knife out. There was a cry of pain. Max’s breathing was staggered. Another slow blink.

  “Where’s Lily?” the man shouted. There was only raspy breathing in answer. “WHERE?”

  Another blink.

  “I don’t . . . know . . . where . . . she went,” Max stammered between gasps.

  “Then I don’t need you. I know someone’s seen her, so this wasn’t a wasted effort. Thanks Max,” the man said. He bent down and raised the knife. I closed my eyes.

  “No!” was all Max could scream before the knife came down on his chest. There was coughing. My stomach churned.

  20

  Scott

  I still remembered the day Lily moved to Niceville in fifth grade. She was so shy and quiet. Emily had gone right up to her and took her in as her best friend. From that day on, those two were attached at the hip. In elementary school, they would chase me around the playground during recess. Then, I thought they had cooties. I missed those days, especially now.

  A scream pulled me out of my daydreaming. I stood and looked out of the long and narrow window of the theater door. It was Max. I flinched away from the window as the man’s knife fell into Max’s chest. I didn’t watch the rest of what he did. I glanced down the hall to Sarah and Emily. What were they were doing? Were they being held hostage? I felt sick to my stomach. What the hell was this guy doing? What did we do to him? I knew Emily and Sarah were alive. I knew Rachel and Max were . . . gone. As for Luke, Angela, and Jacob—I had no idea.

  The man stood and walked toward the girls sitting in the hall, then he walked into the bathroom. I bent down next to Lily so I could get her attention. She was sitting with her head between her knees, her hands tangled in her hair. We needed to move where we would be safe. She yelped and shot up when I touched her shoulder.

  “Sorry! Shhh! It’s okay. I’m here,” I said quietly as I wrapped my arm around her. She just breathed heavily.

  “Come on. We have to go,” I said as I pulled her off the floor. I tugged her out of the door and into the hall. She rubbed her eyes as she walked with me. Sarah looked over at us, and her eyes widened. A small smile of hope lit up her sad face. It was sort of strange. The smile faded to worry, and then she turned around to look toward the bathroom. Emily leaned out from behind her with an expression of fear. She shook her hand, signaling for us to leave. I wanted to ask them what was going on, but I broke into a jog, pulling Lily with me. We were just in front of the big entryway to the main entrance when we heard the man’s voice.

  “LILY!” he yelled.

  I sped up into a run, not looking behind us. I heard a little yelp, and I hoped it wasn’t what I thought it was.

  21

  Lily

  My father stood above me. I was on the floor. Everything was blurry and hazy. I lifted my hands to rub my eyes and gasped when I saw my bloodied hands. Everything hurt. It hurt just to breathe at all. I looked down at my body. There was blood everywhere. I shifted my weight a little to see where the blood was coming from. I winced. My stomach, my chest, and my leg ached. I tasted the blood in my mouth. It made my stomach twist and churn, which didn’t help any with the pain. I looked back at my father. He was holding a knife dripping with blood, my blood. It was probably a little of someone else’s too. I groaned. I knew this would happen one day; he would get me. It was only a matter of time.

  “Look what you made me do, Lily,” he said, looking around me. I blinked and let my head roll to the left. I let out a scream, which was cut short because of the new stabbing pain in my chest and stomach. Emily stared back at me, her eyes frozen, never blinking.

  “No!” I cried out, and looked away as tears spilled over, running down my cheeks.

  “That’s not all,” my father said. I looked to the right even though I didn’t want to. I couldn’t control anything around me. The tears poured out even faster as I jerked my head back toward the ceiling. Scott was on the other side of me, his eyes frozen in fear. My tears further blurred my vision as they fell. I closed my eyes and sobbed. I felt the horrible stabbing pains as I sucked in each breath. I opened my eyes to see my father bent over, the knife inches from my face. I screamed. Then I felt the pain from the knife . . .

  My head jerked up, and realized I had cried out. The darkness of the theater confused and disoriented me. Visions and memories of my father shot through my head . . . it was just too much.

  “I’m sorry! Shhh! It’s okay, I’m here,” I heard Scott say in the darkness as he wrapped his arm around me.

  “Come on. We have to go,” he said, pulling me off
the floor. He made his way out of the door, tugging me along. I looked at my hands—no blood. Scott took my hand, which gave me comfort.

  I was so exhausted and tired. I wanted more than anything to escape into sleep and wake to find all of this a horrible nightmare.

  I was now set on the fact that my father was responsible for all that was happening tonight. It had to be him. Who else would be on a killing spree trying to get to me? And with all the strange coincidences . . . the call at work, his release date . . .

  It was sick. Guilt locked in every muscle of my body. It covered me like thick ooze. I felt dirty. I was the cause of all of this. I couldn’t believe I was the child of this crazed lunatic. How could he still hate us that much? Why couldn’t he just leave us alone? He hurt my friends and murdered so many innocent people! Why? Why?! What did we do to him? I remembered when he had been a gentle and loving man. He would look at me with slow, patient eyes. Then his eyes became stressed and worried and strained. And then they were red and angry and tired. But most of all, they became angry and full of hate. Please, Lord, let the police come. Let them save us before anyone else got killed. Let them catch my father before he got to my family . . .

  The main entrance was right across the hall from the theater we had just left. Scott was staring down the hall. I followed his gaze and saw Max’s body lying on the floor. There was a huge pool of blood soaking the carpet around him. I shut my eyes for a moment and scooted closer to Scott.

  I looked further down the hall. Sarah was looking at us with a worried expression. Emily poked her head out from behind her and smiled at me. I smiled back and let out a sigh of relief. I was so happy Emily was okay, at least for now. She did look pretty beat up. There was a large bruise under her eye, and her lip was busted and swollen. Dark stains bled through her shirt. I grabbed my stomach. It made me sick to see her so hurt because of me. I swear I would kill my father if I could. I wanted to go to her, but Scott was pulling me away. He jogged across the hall, and I followed. I would go to her when it was safer . . . and who knew when that would be? A deep feeling of sadness and defeat washed through me. I was still groggy.

 

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