Disgruntled by the seemingly total absence of any living, breathing soul in the little hamlet, Lenny swung a U-turn in the middle of the highway and doubled back to Hudson Street. Thinking that surely there must be a pay phone nearby, he crept slowly along the street and took a closer look at the shops. They were quite distinctive, he observed; very quaint and inviting in their unpretentious charm. He saw pastry shops, candy stores, an antique shop (Emily’s?), ice cream parlors, pottery and ceramics, and J.L. Coombs Handcrafted Wicker—the place where Emily had bought the flower basket. Seeing something that he could relate to suddenly made Lenny feel a glow inside, knowing that Emily Hoffman wasn’t far away. He stepped on the gas.
He came upon a street that intersected with Hudson and turned right onto it. The stores suddenly gave way to several modest-looking homes with spacious yards between them. Lenny noticed lights on in some of the homes but elected not to disturb anyone at this hour unless it was absolutely necessary. After a few blocks he passed a bank, a church, and more houses before coming upon a tiny strip mall set back from the road. There was a supermarket, a cinema, another bank, and two gas stations located on either side of the mall. One of the gas stations was lit up and appeared to be open.
Lenny turned onto the access road and made a beeline for the gas station, crossing his fingers. When he pulled into the station, he spotted an elderly man in the garage who appeared to be working on an old Studebaker parked in the bay. He pulled up near the door and put the Celica into neutral then got out and went inside.
“Hello?” he hollered in the direction of the garage.
A moment later, the man came into view, wiping his hands on a shop rag and smoking a cigar that was chewed to a stump.
“Hello there, stranger. You needin’ some gas?” the man asked, his voice gravely, like George C. Scott’s.
“Uh, no. I was hoping you could give me some directions,” Lenny replied.
The man walked over to Lenny and said, “Hell of a storm out there, eh? Did you go and stray off the main road in that blizzard, son?”
“No, actually I’m trying to find out where somebody lives. Do you by any chance know Emily Hoffman?”
At the mention of her name, the man’s expression changed dramatically.
“Emily Hoffman, you say?” he asked suspiciously.
“Yeah, that’s right. She’s a friend of mine,” Lenny added, hoping to alleviate the old geezer’s suspicion.
His expression didn’t change one iota. “Yeah, I know Miss Hoffman. But I’m not so sure that she knows you.”
His tone of voice was guarded, almost accusatory.
Lenny forced a smile. “I know this all may seem a little strange, but you have to believe me, sir. Emily is a friend of mine—she was just down in the city earlier having dinner with me—then she drove up here in the storm and I’m afraid that she might have had an accident or something. I’ve tried calling her several times but haven’t gotten an answer. So I’ve driven up here to find out if she’s all right.”
The man continued staring at Lenny as if to size him up. Finally, he lightened up a little and said, “Well, you look like an honest lad so I reckon I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt. Have you tried calling Miss Hoffman since you came into town?”
“No, and that was my next question. Do you mind if I use your phone?” Lenny asked, gesturing to the phone sitting on the counter.
The man suddenly smiled. “Sure, son. Go right ahead.”
“Thanks,” Lenny replied. He stepped over to the old rotary phone and dialed Emily’s number. After several rings, the man said, “You know, it just occurred to me that just maybe Miss Hoffman’s phone line is down. With this storm and her living on that mountain, I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised.”
Lenny hung up and looked over at him. “I never thought of that! I’ll bet her phone’s disconnected! You say that Emily lives on a mountain?”
“Yeah, she sure does. Warren Hoffman built that big old house up there a long time ago—must have been seventy years ago if it were a day. Real nice, really solid. Lots of land, too.” he added.
Lenny brightened up. “Could you tell me how to get to her house? I’d really appreciate it.”
The old man glanced out the window at Lenny’s Celica and chuckled. “Yeah, I’ll tell you. But you’re gonna have to do a good bit of hiking, I’m afraid. You’ll never make it up that mountain in that little rice-burnin’ pea shooter of yours.”
Lenny wasn’t fazed. “If that’s the case then I guess I’ll just have to hike. How do I get there from here?”
The man took a match from a pocket of his overalls and struck it with his fingernail. Re-lighting his chewed up cigar stump, he said, “Just head into town up that way and hang a left at Hudson Street. Stay on it past the stores and once you hit the highway, go another mile or so until you see Mountainview Road. Take a left on that and go a little ways until you reach the fork. Take the right fork—that’s the road that goes up the mountain. Follow that road all the way up to the top. Miss Hoffman’s house is right smack dab at the end of the road.”
Lenny smiled gratefully and said, “Thanks a lot, sir.”
“No problem, son. When you get there, tell Miss Hoffman that George Turner said hello, eh?”
“I sure will, Mr. Turner. Thanks again.”
Lenny turned and went out the door.
George Turner watched as Lenny got into his car.
Looks like young Emily went and found herself a man, he thought to himself with a grin. Nice young fellow, too. Wait until the folks hear about this! They ain’t gonna believe it!
Lenny shifted into first gear and drove away, heading toward the mall exit. He turned onto the road and backtracked to Hudson Street and past the shops. When he reached the highway, he realized that the snow had slackened off to flurries, which was a welcome relief. As much as he loved snow, the thought of hiking through it for any length of time wearing only a jacket and no cap was a little too much to fathom.
He had driven about a mile or so when he spotted a sign for Mountainview Road. He turned left onto it, noting that he hadn’t seen one single moving vehicle in the entire time he’d been in Ashland Falls.
Lenny drove slowly along the road, being careful not to miss the fork that George Turner had referred to. In a few moments he spotted it and pulled off to the right. There to his left he saw a solitary mailbox mounted on a post. Emily’s, he thought. He drove past it and saw a fresh pair of tire tracks in the snow directly ahead of him.
She was home . . . Thank God!
He smiled to himself and proceeded slowly, following Emily’s tire tracks. Up ahead he could see where the road started its ascent up the hillside. He drove a little further and gasped when he saw how steep the road became. George Turner was right, Lenny thought to himself. He’d never make it.
Somewhat disconcerted by this grim realization, Lenny slowed down to a complete stop. He gazed ahead at the road and noted that not only was it steeper than hell, but also very narrow and curvy. He knew it was foolish to even attempt it—he’d only get himself stuck in the snow at some point then he’d be in a hell of a jam. It just wasn’t worth the risk. He backed up a short distance to where the road was at its widest then pulled over to the side and parked. After shutting off the engine and setting the parking brake, he sat for a moment and peered out at the darkness all around him.
A flashlight would sure be handy, he thought to himself. Too bad I ain’t got one . . .
His eyes eventually adjusted to the darkness and he realized that visibility wasn’t as bad as he’d thought, due to the brightness of the snow. He got out of the car and locked the door then gazed up to see the moon shining from behind a short break in the clouds. Inspired by the off-chance that it might actually clear up, he started hiking up the road, keeping his feet within the tracks left by Emily’s bus.
He’d gone about fifty yards or so when he began wondering what Emily’s reaction would be to his unexpected arrival. Once
he’d explained the circumstances that had brought him here, he was pretty sure that she would be understanding, if not flat-out impressed with his concern for her. But there was the remote possibility that she might take this all wrong and feel put on the spot. He perceived Emily as a private person, not unlike himself, and she might actually be irked that he’d taken the liberty of hunting her down and imposing himself upon her, regardless of the circumstances. But that was a chance he was just going to have to take. His concern was real, and he’d never feel at ease with himself until he actually saw her and knew that she was all right. He still had a strange feeling that something was wrong, and it continued gnawing at him.
In the eerie light of the snow-covered road, he could just barely make out his surroundings. The trees were shrouded in snow; dark outlines against the whiteness of the mountainside. The air was crisp and fresh, laced with the slightest scent of pine, and the only sound he could hear was the crunching of his feet in the snow. When he stopped to rest, the quiet was so overwhelming that he could clearly hear his heart beating in his chest. The tranquility was enthralling, almost intoxicating.
After hiking nearly a quarter of a mile, he wondered how much further Emily’s house was. George Turner hadn’t given him a clue. The road was getting steeper all the time and he marveled at the fact that Emily had actually made it all the way up the mountain in that bus of hers. She apparently had a lot of experience taking the road in the snow and no doubt knew every twist and turn by heart, but she still had to be one hell of a driver to be able to negotiate this sonofabitch, Lenny thought to himself in awe.
His right leg was already beginning to ache, and he started favoring it as he continued trudging up the steep grade. He looked around, trying to find some kind of sign that he was getting close to her house. He saw nothing. He knew that if he didn’t get there fairly soon, his leg might well give out on him. He decided to stop and rest again. In spite of the bone-chilling cold, he was perspiring beneath his clothes and could feel tiny beads of sweat on his forehead. He wiped himself off with a gloved hand, the coolness feeling good against his skin.
A few minutes later, he resumed his trek. He tried to imagine what his physical therapist would have to say if she knew that he was hiking up a snow-covered road in the middle of the night on the very same day he’d been released from the hospital. She’d shit a golden brick . . .
He’d just rounded a curve in the road when Lenny spotted a glint of light up ahead. The light was weak, barely perceptible, and it seemed to be coming from a portion of the road about a hundred yards away. He focused on it and picked up his pace then soon realized that there were two dots of light, not one. An animal’s eyes? he thought. No, there wasn’t any light source around for an animal’s eyes to catch and reflect. Besides, they were too far apart. He quickened his pace more, concentrating on the two dots of light. They became yellow and grew larger the closer he got to them.
After another forty yards or so he saw the outline of a large square object set behind the pair of lights. Lenny’s heart stopped when he realized what it was . . .
Emily’s bus!
He let out a gasp and broke into a run. The front of the bus was resting against a tree and facing down toward a steep embankment. Emily had apparently lost control and spun around 180 degrees; the tree being the only thing standing between her and a fifty-foot plunge into a ravine.
“Emily!” he shouted as he came within twenty feet of the bus. When he drew closer, he could just make out the shape of a body slumped over the steering wheel.
He reached the bus and threw open the passenger side door then suddenly stopped himself before stepping inside. He wasn’t sure the tree could hold his added weight. He’d have to check it out first. He could see that Emily was alive but unconscious; her face was lying on its side against the steering wheel facing away from him and he could hear the steady rhythm of her breathing. He called out her name softly, but there was no reply.
Lenny stepped away from the bus and ran around to the front. The bumper was resting firmly against what looked like a spruce tree that had a trunk diameter of at least six inches. He crouched down and looked closely at where the metal met the bark and concluded that the tree was probably solid enough to support a Mack truck. He ran back to the door and climbed gingerly onto the front seat beside Emily. He reached over to the instrument panel, turned off the lights and pulled the handle of the parking brake out as far as it would go, the ratcheting sound breaking the still silence like machine gun fire.
“Emily?” he whispered, leaning over and touching her shoulder.
No response.
He scooted over further on the seat until he was beside her then took her shoulders in his hands and gently eased her back against the seat. She felt like dead weight. He swept her hair away from her face and stared at her alabaster skin. There was a slight cut on her forehead, just above the left eye. Her lips were slightly parted and he could see her eyeballs moving swiftly back and forth beneath her eyelids . . . Rapid-eye movements. She was dreaming.
“Emily?” he whispered again, cradling her limp head in his hands.
Suddenly, her lips started moving. She mumbled something, but it was unintelligible.
“Emily, can you hear me?”
She started moaning, softly at first and then progressively louder. All of a sudden she started jerking her head from side to side as her body tensed up and started convulsing. Lenny grabbed her shoulders and tried to bring her under control.
“Emily!” he shouted.
“No!” she screamed then started kicking her feet and flailing her arms wildly.
Lenny seized her wrists before she could deck him and tried pinning her arms against her sides, but Emily broke free in a startling display of incredible strength.
“No Daddy! Please! Go away!” she cried.
She slugged Lenny in the jaw, sending him crashing against the windshield.
“Jesus, Emily! Wake up!” Lenny shouted, wincing from the pain.
“Don’t, Daddy! Please get off! You’re hurting me!” Emily cried, again smacking Lenny hard on the face.
She then started wrestling with him. Lenny grabbed Emily by the arms but she managed to break away. He stared incredulously at her, her eyes clamped shut, and wondered how someone so tiny could be so strong as she continued flailing her arms and kicking out her legs like a bronking buck.
“Emily, it’s Lenny!” he shouted desperately as he took several more blows to his head. But Emily didn’t respond to his voice; she was totally oblivious to him. Lenny realized that he was going to have to do something to make her snap out of it before she beat him to a pulp. It was one of the hardest things he’d ever had to do in his entire life.
He slapped her sharply across her cheek.
Emily stopped moving for a moment. Her beautiful face froze and she furrowed her brow ever so slightly.
“Emily! Wake up! It’s Lenny!”
She started wrestling with him again. Lenny slapped her a second time, harder than before, and shouted, “Wake up Emily!”
Emily froze again. Suddenly, her eyes flickered open. She screamed.
“It’s okay, Emily. It’s me—Lenny,” he said firmly, staring into her frightened eyes.
“Lenny?” she said in a soft, bewildered tone of voice.
“Yes, Emily. Lenny. Remember me?”
She blinked a couple of times, now seeming to recognize him. She turned her head and looked around, dumbfounded.
“Where am I?” she asked incoherently.
Lenny fixed his eyes on hers. “We’re on the mountain. You apparently lost control of the bus and ran into a tree. You were knocked unconscious.”
Her hand went to the wound on her forehead.
“You bumped your head on the steering wheel. How bad does it feel?”
“It’s a little sore,” she mumbled drowsily. “I can’t even remember what happened.”
There was an expression of helplessness in her eyes as she spoke.
“Do you feel like you can walk? We need to get you inside—you’re stone cold,” Lenny said, touching her gently on the cheek.
Emily looked around again. “How long have I been here?”
“I don’t know,” Lenny replied. “But I’d guess a pretty long time. A couple of hours, maybe longer.”
“What are you doing here?” she asked suddenly.
“I came to find out what happened to you. You hadn’t called me so I sort of got worried . . .”
“What happened to you?” Emily asked in shock when she noticed the bruises on his face.
Lenny smiled wryly. “You pasted me a couple of times. Remind me never to get in a fight with you—I’d probably lose.”
Emily’s eyes widened. “What do you mean, Lenny? I hit you?”
“Yeah. You were dreaming, I guess. And apparently you were struggling with someone in your dream. But you took it out on me.”
In a sickening flash, everything came back to her. My God! she thought. Lenny had been there while she was having a nightmare!
What all had she said and done while she was dreaming?
Emily’s face went flush and she became absolutely speechless.
“Are you all right?” Lenny asked.
She looked away from him, ashamed and embarrassed. She wasn’t sure what to do or say now. “I’m sorry I hit you, Lenny.”
“Hey, it’s okay! I’m just sorry that you had such an obviously bad dream. Do you remember any of it?”
Yes, Emily thought. She always remembered them. This had been the same dream she’d had over and over countless times since she was eleven years old. Her father in bed with her, fondling her and then her great escape into Hell where he finally caught up with her and raped her. She hadn’t had this dream in over a month, and she wondered why it had suddenly recurred again tonight . . .
Katherine's Prophecy Page 25
