by Nancy Adams
It was truly a gorgeous day, and Abby was intent on soaking it all in. The sun was full, and leaves stirred in the breeze; beautiful birds chirped and sang along the shoreline. It was wonderful.
Eventually they made their way back to the hospital. They spent an hour or so with Melody, then decided to leave her for the night. Molly offered to give Abby a ride home, and she accepted.
But when they pulled up to the house, Abby felt a shiver go down her spine. She couldn't explain it, but she was suddenly nervous.
“You okay?” Molly asked.
Abby shook her head. “Yeah. Yeah, fine.”
“Do you… want me to come in with you?”
“Ah, no, that’s okay. Thanks though, Molls.”
“Alright. Eric's going to take me out surfing again tomorrow. I really like him Abby.”
“ I can see that Molls. I'm so happy for you.” She meant it.
“Ya, well... maybe we can talk more about it later. I don't know... I mean... we've been talking about maybe taking the next step.”
“Wait... you don't mean—”
“Ya.” Molly said cutting her off. “Well... I don't want to bother you now, not with what just happened with Melody. But, it'd be nice to talk to someone. I've never had a girlfriend I trusted as much as you. Would... would that be okay?”
Abby smiled, and put her hand on Molly's shoulder. “That'd be more than okay.”
A tear dripped from Molly's eye, and the two embraced in a passionate hug.
Abby knew now that she loved Molly. She'd become more than a friend to her. They were sisters, and she knew just how much Eric truly meant to her. Abby couldn't have been happier for them.
They held for a few moments more before finally saying their last goodbyes. Abby watched as Molly pulled out of the driveway, the headlights slowly receding down the long hill, becoming fainter and fainter until they vanished completely.
Until Abby was completely alone.
She turned from the road, and made her way toward the house. It felt strange to be there alone, without Melody. But the excitement she had for Molly overpowered the fear. And she’d never had the house to herself before—never had any house to herself before.
She made her way upstairs and went to take a shower. She couldn't escape the nagging feeling that she wasn't alone. Like when you felt someone was watching you, only to turn around and find out that someone was. She hated the feeling, but knew there was no reason for it. She decided to try to ignore it and move on. Perhaps tomorrow she would ask Molly to stay with her, then maybe the two of them could talk. Tonight, however, she was alone. So she might as well make the best of it.
* * * * *
Blaring death metal music hushed as he shut off the old car. He’d kicked out the worst of the trash but the cab still smelled like leather, mold, and fermenting garbage. At least he hadn’t paid for the thing. And it still smelled better than prison.
He ran his fingers through his dark, greasy hair, and tossed it out of his eyes. From the glove compartment he pulled a little dime bag of cocaine, and dipped his key in for another snort. Prison had been an agony of withdrawal until he’d found people who could get him coke—cut with baking powder and sawdust probably, but enough to get him high. And the guys had been planning something more than routine drug smuggling, too. They were planning a breakout, and they need someone who could pick locks.
He’d picked up the skill when he was a kid, getting out of the closets his father locked him into when he left to go to bars or to pick up women. He’d had to learn, so he had, and he’d learned well. Fortunately for him, the guys planning the escape needed him, and had no choice but to include him in the plan.
He lifted the key, pressing his other nostril shut and snorting the coke, hard and deep. Bright tingling rush of energy. Glittering roar of purpose.
He leaned back and looked at the house again. It hadn't been easy to find this place, but after a few calls to some of Abby's old friends, he had found it. He drove all night to get here. No sleep, no rest. After what she did to him—landing him in that hell hole known as prison—he needed to see her. Needed to get back at her, and get his revenge.
He saw a car approaching. It pulled into the driveway. His senses heightened, and his vision focused. His knee was going up and down in the foot well. The two people in the car stayed inside it for a while, talking, but eventually the passenger side door opened and someone stepped out. Abby!
She was so beautiful. He’d thought of her everyday in that hellhole, through the shakes and the grinding of the teeth, suffering from migraines and engulfed in such misery he could barely see. He still loved her, somewhere deep inside. But the pain... the hatred.... it was all consuming, and it demanded punishment.
Abby waved, and the car pulled away. She walked into the house. He saw the lights go on.
Now. He opened the door, and slipped quietly out into the dark.
twenty-one
ELI COULDN'T GET ABBY OUT OF HIS HEAD all day. Just the thought of her brought sweet passion swelling back into his head. He and Ricky worked all day together. Kirsten was supposed to have come in for the lunch rush, but called in sick. Eli could hear her rough voice and snot-filled sinuses over the phone, and hadn’t needed convincing. It had been fine with just the two of them, though. Like the good old days. But Eli was beat, and ready for a quiet evening and good night's sleep.
The sun had set, and it had grown dark in the small town. Eli and Ricky both felt strange about it. Both admitted something felt wrong. They couldn't explain it, but there was an eeriness about the night. An evil presence.
Ricky frowned. “Something's off tonight gringo. I can feel it.”
Eli nodded. “Yeah... me too.”
They finished up their duties and waved off the last customers of the day. Focusing their full attention towards cleaning up and getting the place ready for the morning. Eli flipped on the small portable TV in the back room to give them something to listen to while they worked.
Eli worked on the floors while Ricky scrubbed the fryers. One of the major drawbacks of owning a restaurant like this was the grease. No matter what you did, it still got everywhere. Eli would leave it if he could, but doing so would transform the kitchen into a skating rink.
“BREAKING NEWS.”
Eli and Ricky both heard the bulletin on the TV, slowing down enough to pay attention.
“There has been a update regarding the prison break in Loomingburg County at approximately 2:00 AM last night. Jeffery 'mad dog' Porter was apprehended by police five minutes ago in an abandoned barn near the jail.”
“Loomingburg,” Ricky said thoughtfully. “That's not too far from here, is it?”
“No.” said Eli, a sick feeling in his gut. “No, it's not.”
“Two suspects are still at large, and considered to be extremely dangerous. We urge all citizens to call local authority's with any information you may have regarding these men.”
Two pictures flashed up on the tiny screen. Eli squinted, but didn't recognize any of them.
“That puts three of the Loomingburg five back behind bars. Along with Mad Dog, both Enrique Gustavo and Dorell Williams have been caught by police.”
Their three pictures expanded to fill the screen, then disappeared. The remaining three expanded.
“The remaining convicts are Diego Sandoval, and Tucker Morrison.”
The mop in Eli's hand fell to the floor. His eyes widened; he felt himself blanch.
“You alright gringo?”
“No. No, Ricky, I need to go. I'll explain later, but it's really important.”
Ricky nodded. “Yeah, sure.”
“Thanks!”
Eli rushed out the door, forgetting his coat. There was only one thought in his head as he sprinted for his truck, keys already in hand: Abby.
* * * * *
Abby showered, and felt much better afterwards. She went into her grandmother's bedroom to search for an extra face cloth, but wound up getting dist
racted by an old wooden desk she hadn't really noticed before. She didn’t expect to find anything, but nosily began opening drawers.
To her surprise, they were full of letters. All of them addressed to Melody, from Abby's mom, Rachel. Abby poked through the envelopes, grabbing some and flipping through them. She recognized the handwriting on the front. The curling scrawl. She pulled out a few of the letters, scanning fairly boring updates, finally settling on one dated almost a year ago to the day.
April 4th, 2013
Dear Mom,
I miss you dearly. Life is hectic here. I know it’s no excuse, but it’s tough to find the time to come out and visit.
Abby left us last week. Moved out to Texas to be closer to her boyfriend, Tucker. I don't like him. He reeks of bad character, but I don't know what to do about it now. All my efforts to help Abby, to show her the way, have backfired. The more I draw her close, the further away she runs.
How did you do it? I was probably a nightmare for you too, growing up, but you managed to turn me around—at least a little. Ha ha.
I guess that's all for now. Please keep Abby in your thoughts—she’s always in mine. She really is my baby girl, and has so much life left in front of her. She deserves so much better than she’s getting. I just wish I could show her that.
Maybe you could talk to her? I know she thinks the world of you. More than she thinks of me. No pressure, just think about it.
I love you Mom, and I’ll try to make time to come visit soon! Tell Dad hi for me next time you talk to him, and remember what I said about Abby. She's so special, and I just want her to see herself the way I do.
Love,
Rachel
A single tear fell off of Abby's chin onto the carpet below.
She’d never known her mother cared so much for her. Never known she thought about Abby like that, or worried for her, or anything. If she truly felt that way, she’d done an awful job of showing it. Never said it, or showed it through her actions. Only bickered, and told Abby how to live her life. It wasn't fair of her to suddenly be so nice behind her back, to suddenly—
Crash.
Abby shot up straight, every fiber of her being suddenly alert. She swiveled her head toward the noise. What was that? Slowly, she stood up from the desk, placing the letter down as she straightened. She turned to the door, and listened for anything else.
Nothing.
Probably just a raccoon outside or something, she told herself. It didn’t do a thing to banish her sudden fear. Abby inched toward the door, breathing shallowly, as quietly as possible. She poked her head outside.
Nothing.
The hallway was empty. The rooms branching off from the hallway were empty too.
It was just a raccoon.
She reached the top of the staircase, but couldn’t see anything down below. She had to make sure. For her own peace of mind.
She thought briefly of calling someone—but who? Molly? She’d just left; it would be silly to call her back. Eli? Probably already home and asleep. She didn't want to wake him. The police? What would she say? She heard a noise? No. Anyway, she couldn't see anything wrong with the house.
Everything's fine, she thought. Go back upstairs and get to bed.
She turned back and made her way back up the stairs. She had already turned into her room when she remembered all the letters she’d left out on Melody's desk. She sighed. “Better clean those up,” she muttered, and turned back.
Outside Melody’s room, an uncanny chill crept down her spine. She stepped inside, and a scream caught in her throat. She couldn’t scream. Couldn’t speak.
No…. The word was drawn out into a moan, even inside her head.
Through the doorway, perched at Melody's desk, sat Tucker.
He smiled. “Hey Abby.”
twenty-two
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?” The confidence she spoke with came from somewhere unknown inside of her. Certainly not from any place belonging to her old self.
He tilted his head, pushing himself off the desk. “Aren't you excited to see me?”
There was a certain unpleasantness about his voice. Vicious, hateful, and wicked. It rasped from his throat. Spewing out whatever lies he concocted next.
“How did you find me? Why aren't you still in prison?”
As soon as the words escaped her mouth she knew she was in even more danger than she’d realized. Something must have happened. Something bad. Who knows what he must have done to get out of there... who he had hurt.
He took a step toward her. She took a step back. “Abby. Abby, it was an awful thing you did to me...”
“No,” she replied. Again she spoke firmly. Unhesitating. Unwavering. She had no idea what he was talking about, but hoped that if she acted like she was in control, then maybe he would believe it and leave her alone.
Tucker's face twisted. “What'd you say to me?” Whatever softness may have been in his voice was completely gone now. Now there was only more anger. Growing louder.
A lump rose in her throat, and her legs shook, threatening to give out on her.
No, she thought. Not now! I must show strength... I must look strong!
She steadied herself, planting her feet firmly on the ground. Bracing herself, she looked him straight in the eye.
“I said no,” she said, with even more conviction this time than the first.
His head lowered and twisted. Almost animal-like. His eyes twitched. His raw-looking nostrils flared. His shoulders tensed.
He took in a deep breath, loud enough for her to hear even across the room, and then let it out again.
“Wrong answer, sweetheart,” he said, and then lunged at her.
* * * * *
Eli could barely feel his fingers, and yet he could feel his heart beating in his chest.
He'd already tried Abby's cell three times. No answer. Something was wrong. Something was terribly wrong.
He fishtailed around corners. Ran red lights and stop signs. Luckily it was late on a weekday, and the streets were mostly clear.
His wheels squealed, echoing through the streets as he ripped around another corner without even thinking of slowing down. As he got closer to the house, his anxiety grew.
For some reason, his mind flashed back to the night upon the mountain, when his car screeched to a stop, when he jumped onto the ledge and screamed from the pain in his ankle.
A hero.... He scoffed.
Though he finally had closure after he visited that family, he still felt awful everyone believed a lie about that night. Complete strangers treated him like he was something special, but he wasn’t a hero, just a man. But maybe tonight he would need to be both.
Then he saw it. As his car rounded the final corner leading up to Abby's street he saw fire. Massive flames engulfed Melody's home. Licking up the sides, engulfing everything.
No!
He punched the gas, pushing his old truck to its limits and straight on past them, begging it to do at least one last thing for him. He just needed to reach the house.
The truck groaned as it raced up the hill. As he pulled up on the other side of the street, he noticed a few neighbors had come out to watch the fire.
Eli pulled the emergency brake up, and didn't even bother to turn off his engine before he stumbled out of the truck.
“Call 9-11!” he yelled at the neighbors, hoping someone had already done it.
Without hesitating, he barreled through the front door into the house. Inside, flames surrounded him. He squinted through the thick black smoke, coughing, but it was everywhere; there was no escaping it. He could barely see. “Abby!” he called hoarsely. Praying she was still alive.
He ran up the flaming stairs to check the rooms. He checked frantically. Randomly. Since he'd only been in the house once before he barely knew the layout, so he tried everything. A bathroom. A den. Still nothing. Finally, he ran through a flaming door into what must have been Melody's room. It was large and full of her clothing.
&nbs
p; “Abby!” he screamed again. Hoping for just a signal, a whimper—anything.
A massive crossbeam crashed through the ceiling, just feet to his right, and exploded into a blaze of flames as it hit the ground. But Eli couldn’t stop.
He ran further in and—
There.
Two feet poked out from behind the bed. Abby lay unconscious, facedown on the floor, and Eli flipped her over, noting the blood on her face. He threw his ear against her chest, listening fiercely for a heartbeat, for any sign of life.
.......thump-thump..........thump-thump.
It was all he needed. He pulled her up and threw her over his shoulder. Adrenaline made her feel as though she weighed nothing at all, but it was the awkwardness of carrying a limp body that made things difficult, not the weight. The room roared into a full blaze as he carried her out into the hallway. The old structure creaked and groaned, parts of the ceiling starting to come down. They had to get out fast. Eli stumbled down the stairs, the door just visible in front of them.
They were going to make it.
And then something smacked him squarely in the back of the head, hard. It knocked him clean off his feet, Abby tumbling from his shoulders. It almost knocked him unconscious.
A falling beam? he thought, on hands and knees. No. As his vision returned, speckled with light, he saw the dark figure of the man in front of him. He recognized his face from the news report.
Tucker.
Eli scrambled to his feet, and Tucker lunged at him again. This time he collided hard, sending them both crashing to the floor. Eli fought, striking Tucker in the face, but the strike seemed only to infuriate the man further. With a sudden burst of strength, he threw Eli off him, sending him skidding toward the kitchen. The heat was terrible, the smell of wood smoke and burned plastic in the air, the hot dry smell of heat and something else, like when Hannah used to leave the hairdryer on too long.
