Terrified, I dropped to the ground, crawled as fast as I could around to the front of the car and hid behind the passenger side front tire. The sound of metal pellets hitting the car resonated in my ear. If whoever was out there got a hold of me, I would not have a chance. As my heart skipped a beat, I struggled to rise to my feet, and then I made a mad dash for the woods.
I sensed that someone was following me, and I gave a low, pleading scream like that of an helpless, trapped animal as I pushed my way through the low hanging tree branches and stumbled around the scattering of bushes and broken, dry twigs.
This part of the woods was not familiar to me, but I recalled Catherine telling me once that the woods extended for about six miles north and west and that the neighboring town sat on the other side of the timbers. I staggered deeper and deeper into the dense tangle of trees and shrubs, with the sound of footsteps trailing close behind me.
Chapter 21
Not much sunlight could seep through the deep woods, and I felt some protection under cover of semi darkness.
At that moment I realized how out of shape I was. My breath came in violent gasps, and my legs ached, but I did not have the luxury of stopping for a moment to catch my breath. I felt like a prey being chased by a predator where the ultimate prize was survival.
I had always been a fighter. When Mom left, I took care of my siblings, kept the family together. Although other teenagers in similar circumstances would have given up, I made sacrifices to ensure that my sisters had a decent life. And now, after all of the hard work that I had done to keep my family intact, Amber was missing, Phyllis was in the hospital, and I was being pursued. Not to mention what happened to Catherine, although technically she was no longer a part of my family after Mom divorced Peter.
And Cuddy Boy, with his pathetic little meow, calling out to me for help. Did the cat approach its tormentor in a friendly gesture, expecting to be petted? Would the cat ever return to Catherine’s house after he had been brutalized?
And now, someone was chasing me. I had unwittingly thrown myself in harm’s way.
Instead of sprinting in a straight line, I turned slightly to the left and headed north where the woods seemed denser and darker. I kept jogging for at least another five minutes, with the sound of tree branches cracking behind me.
After I veered off the predictable path, I could no longer hear anyone trailing me. Had I lost him? Or was it a she? For the first time since the bb gun incident near the Lincoln, I had the nerve to look back. By now, my sprint had been reduced to a pitiful stagger. My face bore gashes from the low hanging tree branches and twigs that tore into my flesh as I tried to escape.
As best as I could tell, no one was following me. Either my pursuer stopped chasing me or he or she was hiding behind a tree waiting for me to turn back and make a run for my car. Of course, I had no intention of ever going back to Catherine’s house.
Not now, not ever.
I hid behind the wide trunk of a Sycamore tree and strained to catch my breath. Not too long after that, I started coughing. Unconsciously, I cupped my hands on my mouth to muffle the loud hacking sounds.
If only Mark could see me now, could realize what a fool I had been. He had turned to face me right before he headed for the hospital to visit Catherine, and he pleaded with me not to do anything risky in his absence. From the look on his face, I had gathered that he thought that I might try and do something crazy. That is why he made me promise not to do anything foolish. It was as if though he could read my thoughts before they even occurred. Could he have known that I would try to do something this reckless in his absence even before I realized what my next action would be?
I shook my head from side to side. Impossible. How could Mark know such things? I gave a sigh. Maybe he liked me so much that he could sense my feelings. I had heard that couples who have been together for a long time eventually can read one another’s thoughts. Impossible again, I thought. Yesterday was the first day that Mark had spoken to me. Strictly speaking, we had only known each other for less than one day!
If only I had listened to him. I would be at home now, safe and sound. At least I would be near Tally. Did Mark return from his visit to the hospital, and was he at my home waiting for me? I wondered if Eleanor would finally break her promise and reveal my whereabouts to Mark. But the overwhelming question that I kept asking myself was whether or not Mark really cared about me. Did he really care?
I could hear the sound of leaves rustling a few yards to my left. Was someone moving slowly to the spot where I was hiding? I summoned up the courage to peep from behind the Sycamore just in time to see a squirrel scurrying up a tree. But where was my pursuer? Why did I no longer hear footsteps? Tired and weary, I wiped the sweat from my brow, held my breath, and closed my eyes.
Now what?
If my follower was close behind, once I left the relative safety of the tree, I might be an easy target, I thought. And I was all alone in the woods. Eleanor did not even know exactly where I was. She thought I was at Catherine’s house, not in the woods. What a bizarre predicament I had carved out for myself.
I swallowed hard. I could not just remain in hiding behind the tree forever.
There were all sorts of strange noises in the woods, rustling sounds, birds chirping, small animals dashing through the dense underbrush. All of my senses were on high alert as I waited and waited. Then what? After I was done waiting, where would I go? I certainly could not start walking back in the direction from which I had come. If I walked straight ahead, I would be heading deeper and deeper into the woods which did not end for miles. I was far away from the main road, but at least I knew that it was to my right.
Perhaps I could try inching my way toward the main path, darting from tree to tree. Then, I would stay as close enough to the road as I could under the cover of the woods without actually getting back onto the path. The quickest way to head toward Grayling was to run past Catherine’s house again. But that would be too risky. If I headed in the opposite direction, though, I would have to walk for miles before I reached the closest town. I shook my head, not knowing what to do.
The sun was directly overhead now, sending sharp shadows through the woods. It’s got to be about noon, I thought. It’s been quite a while since I left home. Mark should be back by now. Hopefully, Eleanor would be worried enough to tell him where I had gone. But maybe not. She might have thought that I had stopped off at a grocery store or something. I couldn’t be sure of anything anymore.
As the frigid wind ripped through the trees, I shivered and clenched my jaw and wrapped my arms around my chest.
And waited.
Chapter 22
At first I thought my imagination was playing tricks on me. A familiar noise was coming from far away and then it sounded like it was getting closer.
It was the siren of a police car.
Instinctively, I bolted from my hiding spot and started sprinting in the direction of the main road where I knew I would find safety. But I was not able to run fast enough since I stumbled and fell many times on shrubs and stems and collapsed tree branches. Twigs scratched my face as I staggered to shove my way through the timbers.
The wailing sound of the police car faded away, and then I was alone again.
But a minute later came a second wailing sound and yet a third. I had just reached the edge of the road when a blue patrol car raced past me. Just a few more feet, and I would be out on the main road.
Then a terrible twist of events took place. I heard someone running behind me again, and I jerked my head to look back. That’s when things happened so quickly. I thought that someone had hit me over the head as a sudden jolt of pain pierced my forehead. Unsteadily, I dropped to my knees, and everything began to look so blurry. I clutched at a tree, scrapping my hands on the bark. I struggled to rise to my feet, summoning every bit of energy that I could muster. I ordered my legs to move, but instead, I fell backward onto the ground. There was a terrible throbbing in my head and an achi
ng in my limbs, and I was drifting in and out of muddled consciousness.
And then everything went blank.
“Get up, Celia, get up!”
A voice was calling my name from far away.
“Celia, wake up!”
“Huh?” I said. “Who is it?”
“It’s me.”
I opened my eyes slightly, and everything was a blur. Someone was standing over me. When I finally came to my senses, I realized that it was Mark.
Chapter 23
Mark was taking off his jacket.
“Here, put this on. You look cold,” he said.
Trembling, I tried to form words with my mouth, but only spurted a strange gurgling sound.
“Here, hold my hand and get up. You ran right into that tree,” he said.
He grasped my arm, helped me get to my feet, and wrapped his jacket around my shoulders. We then walked to his black pickup truck that was parked directly ahead at the edge of the woods on the other side of the road.
“Do you need to go to the hospital? That’s an awful bump on your forehead,” Mark remarked.
“Oh, no, I’m fine,” I responded.
When we were inside the car, Mark turned the ignition and drove toward Catherine’s house. I wanted to tell him about the person chasing me in the woods, about the lit candle, about Cuddy Boy, but there was such a throbbing in my head that I could only sink back in the passenger seat and peer at the woods.
It was odd, though, that Mark did not ask me why I was in the woods.
Three patrol cars were parked in front of Catherine’s house. An officer was examining the damage to the Lincoln. Two other policemen were heading toward the backyard.
“What happened here?” Mark asked.
“Wait, how did you know I was here?” I asked, giving him a suspicious look. I rubbed my temple. It ached terribly.
“I had a feeling you were in danger.”
“Did you talk to Eleanor?” I asked him. “How did you know where I was?”
Mark pursed his lips but said nothing. He pulled up behind the last patrol car.
Officer Ken was standing next to the Lincoln holding the keys I had dropped hours earlier. Henry was taking finger prints off of the front driver’s side door.
As we approached the Lincoln, Ken noticed us. Turning to me, he said, “Celia, I’ve got a bunch of questions I’ve got to ask you. But for now, you should go home. It’s dangerous here. It looks like someone really damaged your car.”
“Whoever it was shot at me with a bb gun while I was trying to get into the Lincoln. Problem is I did not get a glimpse of who it was,” I responded.
“I’ll bring the Lincoln to your house in a few minutes after we pull some fingerprints off the car. Now go home,” Ken said.
Mark thanked Ken, and we started to drive away. As we whizzed past Catherine’s house, I glanced back. The sun had peeked out from behind the clouds and illuminated the colonial at just the right angle. Out of the periphery of my vision, I glimpsed the silhouette of a person in the upper bedroom window who appeared to be looking down at the pickup.
“Stop!” I yelled.
Mark pressed the brake.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Look, do you see a person standing at the bedroom window?”
“Where?”
“Right up there,” I said, gesturing toward the window. I glanced up again, but the shadowy figure was gone.
“Celia, are you alright?” he asked, as he started driving again.
“I know someone’s at the house. Someone was shooting at me with a bb gun,” I explained. “And then the cat, Cuddy Boy. Catherine’s cat. It had been tortured.”
Mark glared at me with astonishment. “And do you remember me telling you not to do anything foolish?”
I closed my eyes, embarrassed, vaguely aware of the aching in my head. Thoughts of Mark cautioning me crept into my mind. If only I had listened to him.
Mark had given me that dire warning before he went to the hospital. Surely, he must have known that I would go to Catherine’s house. But how? I had not even thought of heading there until just before Eleanor arrived. And he had still not answered my question about whether or not Eleanor had revealed my whereabouts.
Mark steered the pickup past Mitchell’s Market and down the dirt road toward my house.
“How did you know where I was?” I repeated.
Mark did not seem to hear me. He was fumbling with the radio, searching for the news channel. Or was he pretending to be distracted so that he could avoid the question altogether?
“Are you going to answer my question?” I asked.
He hesitated for a moment and bit his lip. “ I had a feeling you were in danger. So I called the police and told them to rush to Catherine’s house.”
“But how did you know I was there?” I asked.
“Honestly, I had a feeling you had gone there,” he said. He sounded sincere, but his comment did not make much sense. Why would he have a feeling that I was there unless Eleanor had told him? Maybe he was trying to protect Eleanor.
“I won’t get mad if Eleanor told you. I was actually hoping she would tell you where I had gone. Things got pretty strange over at Catherine’s house.”
Mark avoided making eye contact with me. He parked the pickup in my driveway, climbed out, went around to the passenger side, and opened the door.
As we walked toward my house, a gust of icy wind blew the red and yellow leaves and some dust around the front yard.
Eleanor opened the door for us. “Hi, Celia, I was worried sick about you. I almost started to call the police,” she said. Then she glanced up at Mark and said, “Hello. You must be Mark. Celia told me to expect you. When neither of you showed up, I got quite worried.”
Mark greeted Eleanor and smiled politely.
I stood there gaping at Eleanor and then at Mark in bewilderment. So Mark had not yet met Eleanor. He could not have known where I was and that I was in danger.
Even if he had a strange hunch that I had gone to Catherine’s house, he could not have known my exact location in the woods. His car was parked directly across the roadway close to where I was hiding. I would not have been visible from across the road because of the thickness of the woods. Yet there he was.
Chapter 24
A wicked thought started to take shape in my mind. Maybe Mark had something to do with Amber’s disappearance. After all, he was standing outside Mitchell’s Market when my sister disappeared. What if Mark had not gone to the hospital to see Catherine after all? He could have gone to Catherine’s house instead. What if he was the person chasing me in the woods? I felt sick to my stomach for allowing myself to think of such awful thoughts, especially since Mark was so handsome and seemed so innocent.
Mark was talking softly with Eleanor in the kitchen near the sink. Weary and anxious, I collapsed into a chair at the kitchen table and buried my head in my hands. But I could hear everything he and Eleanor were saying.
“Celia has not had anything to eat with the exception of half a doughnut that she had this morning. Perhaps I should make her a couple slices of toast,” he said.
He looked so gorgeous, so sincere.
But there were so many unanswered questions.
I was still wearing the jacket that he draped around my shoulders in the woods. I smelled the aroma of the jacket, a light, pleasant scent.
Could there be a dark side to Mark? In school, he did not care to interact with any girls. He mostly kept to himself. But then again, he was known for earning perfect grades, and so he could have spent all of his time studying. Still an introverted, handsome, smart person could have a sinister side. Plus, he was so evasive. He still had not answered my question as to how he knew my exact location in the woods behind Catherine’s house. And he was not budging.
“Where’s Tally,” I asked Eleanor.
“She’s in her bedroom playing with her dollhouse,” she replied. “She keeps asking me when Amber is coming back
. I’m running out of things to tell her. Have you heard anything from the police?”
I shook my head. As I recounted what had happened at Catherine’s house, Eleanor’s eyes opened wide in surprise.
While I was talking, I met Mark’s gaze, but he did not seem at all amazed by what I was saying. It suddenly occurred to me that he had not bothered to ask me what had taken place at Catherine’s house. He did not even ask me why the window of the Lincoln had been shattered. His behavior was very odd. It seemed as if he already knew what had happened since he was not even listening to me as I spoke.
When the two pieces of bread popped up out of the toaster, Mark pulled them out, smothered them with peanut butter, and set the dish in front of me on the table.
“You should eat something,” he said. “You need all the energy you can get.” Then he poured me a glass of orange juice.
“Thoughtful young man, isn’t he?” Eleanor said, smiling broadly.
I could tell that she liked Mark. The problem was that I liked Mark, too, but I was worried about his behavior, about the gnawing uneasiness that I felt at the pit of my stomach when I realized that Mark knew way more than he was telling me.
“Mark, with all the commotion, I’ve forgotten to ask you if you talked to Catherine at the hospital. Was she conscious?” I asked.
Mark shook his head from side to side. “No, when I got there, Officers Ken and Henry were already beside her bed. She had fallen into a deep sleep, and the doctors would not permit us to wake her up. We waited around for a couple of hours. Then a nurse came in and tried to rouse her, but Catherine had slipped into a coma again.”
Hand Me Down Evil (Hand Me Down Trilogy) Page 6
