Sins For Truths (The Case Files of Logan St. Martin Book 2)
Page 25
As the darkness overtakes me, I can hear my subconscious saying, “There was more than one shot.”
I can remember hearing the loud commotion of endless chatter, along with the feeling of a cool breeze blowing on my face. The sirens where deafening as everything appears to me now in a dream like state. I’m not sure how much time has passed. At one point I remember seeing Lieutenant Clark, Detective Richard, and Deputy Abbott standing over me. My thoughts keep trying to drift back to Michael, and then comes the worry and agony over my unborn child. My fears seem to consume me as I worry that if I make it out of this dream, I’ll be forced to walk this world alone. The only solace I’ve found dealing with my mental state is I no longer need to fight against the imaginary demons of my past. At times, I wonder if I’m dead and lingering around, waiting to be accepted into the gates of heaven. Then I have lengthy periods of time where I’m in total darkness, but at peace.
My melancholy state is disrupted every so often by the sound of familiar voices. I remember clearly listening to Lieutenant Clark praying over me, all the while begging for my forgiveness. It seems he was on the trail of the sheriff this whole time. The only piece of the puzzle he was missing was my past. He never bought into the lie of the sheriff and John Broussard not being good friends, stating that when the bodies started showing up, the rumors began to run through the bayous like wildfire, sweeping through the air like whispering willows. I can still hear his pleas of forgiveness echoing through my mind as I lie here in the dark. He promised if I manage to fight my way back, he’ll do everything in his power to make sure I have a road paved to anywhere I’d like to go.
I also vaguely remember the sounds of Detective Tyler’s voice from Franklin. To my dismay, he felt the need to stop by and give me a pep talk. At one point, I remember him telling a joke, as if it was funny enough to make me wake up. His last parting words were that Franklin P.D. was closing the cases on all the missing persons related to the IDs found. He claims due to the lack of money and manpower; the department must place the cases on the back burner. They’re figuring that since the cases are so old, the chances of ever finding the bodies are slim to none. Between the wildlife and natural decomposition, the odds of finding any of them are unrealistic.
As time slowly drifts, I find myself praying for all this to end, begging for God to take me. I’m tired of living in darkness, and the only thing that keeps me holding on is the soothing sound of my mother’s voice. I can hear her pleading and begging for me to wake up. I can hear myself answering through the total darkness. Repeatedly, I say, “I’m here, Mama, I’m here.”
It’s as if she doesn’t hear me through her sobs. I attempt to say it again, and this time I hear her screaming for the doctors. As I listen with everything in me, I can hear her telling someone, “She moved her fingers, I felt them move.” A moment later, I hear a strange man’s voice attempting to speak to me, asking me to move my fingers if I can hear him. I attempt to do as he says, only to be met with the frustration of hearing him say that he sees nothing, then all goes dark.
Sometime later, I’m awoken by the sound of my mother’s prayers. As I open my eyes, I immediately notice my vision is blurred. I can barely see my mother’s forehead resting on my stomach as she prays. I slowly attempt to move my hand, and to my surprise I’m able to achieve the task, purposely resting it on the back of her head. The shock of my action has brought her to tears as she clasps my hand in hers and says, “Don’t try to move, baby, I’m going to get the nurse.” Rising from her chair, leaving my hand to fall on my stomach, I’m instantly reminded of my unborn child and Michael. Oh God, Michael.
As I lie in the bed, barely able to move, I watch as a bright light is flashed in my eyes. It dances back and forth from the right to the left. Although my vision remains obscured, I instantly know I’m not dreaming. I’m alive, and I somehow made it out of the camp, but where’s Michael? I attempt to communicate my thoughts but am unable to speak the words. I can hear the beeping sound of the machines next to my bed going off. The room becomes a frantic obstacle of motion, with a male voice calling for a sedative. The last thing I hear before dozing off is the same strange male voice, who I assume is the doctor, saying, “She’s coming back to us, but it’s going to take more time. If we want any chance of saving her and the baby, we must be patient and allow her body to heal. All we can do, Mrs. St. Martin, is wait and pray. She’s a fighter, but it’s in God’s hands now.”
I distinctly remember hearing my mother begin to weep, saying, “I knew she would come back. Logan, Mama’s here, angel, and everything’s going to be okay. You’ve always been a survivor, and you’ll survive this, too. You need to fight…fight not only yourself, but for your baby.”
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Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Contents
Acknowledgments
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
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