Betwixt

by Melissa Pearl

  His face is pale, but his eyes are hard with rage. I force my head to turn and look above me. It's a struggle that hurts like hell, but I have to see.

  "Jody," I think, "please tell me you didn't just keep me alive so I could die five minutes later."

  I gaze at the muzzle bearing down on me.

  "Step away from her, Finnigan." Adam's voice is trembling.

  Jester barks again and looks ready to lunge.

  "Back down, boy," Dale's words are punched out as he moves in front of me, blocking my view.

  Jester's growl is menacing and fully freaking me out.

  "Shut up! Shut your dog up or I'll shoot it!" Adam's voice breaks.

  "Calm down." Dale slowly puts his hand back and points at his dog. "Jester. Down."

  The dog growls again and Dale has to repeat himself, his voice coming out loud and assertive. Jester lets out a whimper.

  "Sit."

  Reluctantly Jester lowers his butt to the ground, but looks in no way relaxed. Keeping a keen eye on Adam, his limbs are quivering with having to remain in his spot.

  "Where'd you get the gun?" I can hear the fear lining Dale's steady words.

  "Dad's desk. I don't know why I put it in my bag this morning." Adam lets out a strange chuckle, all high and squeaky. "I just had a hunch that something bad was going to happen."

  "It doesn't have to, man."

  "This is what my Dad wants." The desperation puncturing each of Adam's words is pitiful.

  "For you to be a murderer?"

  "You don't understand. This will ruin my life. There's no other way."

  "Yes there is, Adam. You don't have to do this."

  "I don't have a choice." Adam's voice break's apart with childlike tears.

  "Yes you do." Dale slowly stands. "You can choose to be the villain or the hero."

  I glimpse Adam through Dale's legs. The gun is shaking in his hand and terror for Dale ripples through me.

  "Stop!" I try to scream it, but the word gets stuck in my throat.

  Dale takes a step towards his friend.

  "I know you, Adam... and you want to be the hero right now. Trust me on this."

  The gun dips to the ground then springs back up as Dale takes another step forward. He edges back and raises his hands. Jester growls.

  "Your Dad is asking too much. You can't let him turn you into this. He doesn't want you to be this person. He just wants you to get into a good school and do well, that's all."

  Dale inches forward again.

  "No one has to know..." Dale swings his arms wide. "About any of this."

  He looks down at me, searching my expression, hoping for an answer that will save our lives.

  It takes me an age, but I eventually croak, "I never saw the car that hit me."

  Dale whips back around to Adam. I can't see his face, but I can picture the hope of a solution sparkling in his eyes.

  I can feel the clock ticking with excruciating slowness as we wait for a resolution. It's almost more painful than my wounds.

  As if working in slow motion, Adam's gun finally points to the ground.

  "Unload it." Dale's tight voice leaves no room for argument.

  Adam silently does what he's told. Tears are streaming down his face as he pockets the magazine and catches the bullet out of the barrel.

  Placing his hands on his hips, Dale bends over and pulls in a ragged breath.

  Reaching into his pocket, Adam pulls out his phone. Pressing three buttons, he lifts it to his ear and asks for an ambulance.

  Dale bends down beside me and brushes my hair back with a confused frown. "How come his phone gets reception?"

  "Because his phone kicks your crappy phone's butt," I whisper.

  His body shakes with mirth and he gives me a tender smile.

  "Can you hang in there a little longer?"

  With my good hand, I reach for his.

  "Just don't let go and I'll be fine."

  Dale keeps my hand in his and finishes his story about Jester. I fade in and out as I listen, but he keeps calling me home. Every time I come to, I hear Adam pacing around us then Jester's low growl when he gets too close. Eventually the distant sound of sirens draws closer and closer.

  Adam spins and rushes up the hill. I hear a flurry of voices as people descend. Dale is pushed out of the way as the paramedics take over. I try to keep my eyes on him, but it eventually gets too hard. Things become a blur as I'm strapped onto a stretcher and hauled up the hill.

  As I'm lifted over the guardrail a police car screeches to a stop beside the ambulance. An irate Sheriff jumps out of the car and shoots me a molten look before brushing past the paramedics and clamping an iron hand around Dale's arm.

  "You've got some major explaining to do, Houdini."

  Dale doesn't complain as the Sheriff marches him to the car and slams him against it.

  I want to cry as I strain to see what's happening. My insides surge with panic and I struggle against the straps.

  "Hey, calm down. It's okay." The paramedic places a gentle hand on my head, forcing me to relax.

  I try to lift my head to see Dale, but all I glimpse is a mop of curls being pushed into the back of a police car.

  Closing my eyes, I no longer fight the tears as the sirens wail and I'm driven away from the guy who saved my life.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Everything is black again. I don't want to open my eyes. I'm not sure what I'll find. A glass bubble again? A lonely forest?

  I squeeze my eyes shut. That only hurts my head.

  I know I should investigate, figure out where I actually am, but I'm scared. Memories and dreams have been pounding my brain like a stormy sea. Bright circles of light, Jody's precious face, Dale's soft smirk, my mother crying, the sterile smell of a hospital, rushed words, urgent shouts, my fist flying straight through Trent's shoulder, Dale's hand in mine.

  Soft skin registers against me and I squeeze my fingers. The hand inside mine responds with a gentle squeeze back.

  "Nicky? Are you awake, honey?"

  My eyes crack open and the first thing to register is bright light. I clamp my lids shut once more then lick my parched lips before trying again. The bright room slowly comes into focus. I turn my head and see my mother's blue eyes shining down at me.

  "Hey," her voice is soft and she tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. "Good morning." She smiles.

  "What time is it?" I croak and look around me.

  "About eight o'clock." She stifles a yawn. "You've been in and out of sleep for a few days. Don't you remember?"

  A few days?

  I squint my eyes and try to rustle up what memories I have. They are all blurry and filled with fog.

  "Where? What?" I frown. "What day is it?"

  "Tuesday."

  "When did I get here?"

  My mom blinks at tears. "Friday. You were in pretty bad shape. You've been on antibiotics and pain killers... and you were in surgery most of yesterday," her voice hitches. "That's why you've been so out of it."

  I gaze at Mom needing something other than my lost memories to focus on. She looks tired with dark circles under her blood shot eyes. She must have been with me the whole time. Reaching for her hand, I feel it fall into mine immediately. She gives me a brave smile and is about to say something when the door clicks open and my dad strolls in with two cups of coffee.

  He is looking gaunt and restless, but his face lights like a Christmas tree when he sees me looking at him.

  "Hey."

  Handing Mom her coffee, he gives her a quick peck on the cheek then walks around the bed so he can take a seat beside me.

  I'm flanked. Looking from one parent to the other, I take in their warm expressions, their haggard looking relief and it occurs to me that they love me. I mean, they really love me. My lips are about to start quivering when Dad's chipper voice makes them pause.

  "So, how are you feeling?"

  I run an assessing eye over my body, taking in my splinted leg and the
heavy cast holding my elbow in place. The pain killers are managing to stave off the brunt of my discomfort, but I can feel it lurking in the background.

  Jody warned me this would be a long, slow road.

  I let out a sigh.

  "I look like one half of Frankenstein and I feel like my hair hasn't been washed in a year, so, I think we can tick the 'not so great' box."

  His smile is broad.

  "Why are you smiling?"

  "After a sentence like that, I think we can tick the 'she's gonna make it' box." He blinks and looks away then gives a loud sniff and turns back to me. "It's been a long week. It's nice to hear you speaking coherently."

  I run my hand over my cheek and up into my hair. I can feel the egg on my head. I wince. It's still pretty tender.

  "So, do you remember anything?"

  "Bits and pieces. It's hard to know what's real or if I just dreamed it."

  "The most important thing is that you're alive. It doesn't matter what happened." Mom squeezes my hand. "All that matters is that you're safe now."

  "But it does matter."

  What did I just say?

  "It matters." My mouth takes on a mind of it's own. "We can't just keep ignoring... everything. That's how I got into this mess."

  "What are you saying?" Mom's frown lines deepen.

  I close my eyes and take in a breath. I can't believe I'm doing this, but the idea of a fresh start is so tantilizing that I can't ignore the urge to say my piece.

  "Mom and Dad, we can't ignore the fact that Jody's death tore our family apart. You went into a cave." I point to Dad then look at Mom. "And you hid yourself behind this plastic veneer so no one would ever see your tears." They both look pale, but I push on anyway. "I dove into this world where people could hurt me, because that pain was less than dealing with losing Jo."

  Mom's shoulders slump and begin to shake as tears trickle down her face.

  "We all ran away from each other when we should have been banding together. I don't..." I clear my throat. "I don't want to come home if things stay the same."

  "They won't." Mom looks panicked as she grabs my hand.

  I look between my parents.

  "That damn tree has to go too."

  Mom lets out a tear filled laugh then drops her head on my forearm. My Dad looks serious for a moment then grabs his jacket and pulls his phone out. He won't look at me as he dials the number and begins to pace as a faint ring can be heard through the ear piece.

  "Yeah hi, Marty. How's it going?... I need you to swing past our place and get rid of a tree for me... I know you're busy, but I need it down by tomorrow.... No, I don't care how much it costs... Thanks."

  Ending the call, he spins and looks me straight in the eye.

  "I know I've let you down, but that ends now. Your mother and I have had a lot of time to talk these past few days. You're right. Jody's death tore us apart, but your near death has brought us back together. It's a new start, Nicky."

  "You promise?"

  Dad takes Mom's hand and then mine, forming a circle of three.

  "We promise."

  I want to tell them I spoke to Jody. I want them to know what I've been through, but I can't. Maybe one day, but for now my ghostly experience is something for just me and Dale.

  Dale.

  Panic makes my breath accelerate.

  "Where's Dale?"

  I reach for my dog tags but they're gone.

  My parents both frown as I frantically try to look for them.

  "Where's..."

  Dad's eyes narrow slightly then grow wide with realization. Letting go of Mom's hand, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out the Granite dog tags.

  "He give you these?"

  I let out a sigh and reach for them.

  "Yes."

  Running my thumb over the metal, I picture Dale sitting in a jail cell and tears swamp me before I can stop them.

  "Sweetie, what's wrong?"

  "Is he okay? I mean, what's happened to him?"

  "Nothing. Sweetie, he's fine. He's the town hero at the moment. I told you this the other night, but you might not remember." She squeezes my right shoulder with a glimmering smile. "He and Adam Hutton found you."

  "It's a miracle really." Dad shakes his head. "They were doing some research for a biology assignment - looking for some sample in the national park and Adam spotted a twisted guardrail. They decided to check it out and stumbled across your body. Isn't that amazing?"

  And totally unbelievable.

  "The police think you were hit by a car, but they have no way of finding out who the driver was. Sheriff Hutton said he would try to do a search for scraped up blue cars in the area, but he didn't think the chances were very high."

  I can feel the wrinkles in my forehead as I soak in the falsehoods my parents had been dished.

  "Are you mad?"

  I glance at my Dad. His expression is hard, his eyes black with barely quelled rage.

  "No. I'm alive and safe. I don't care who hit me... and neither should you."

  I reach for his fingers. I can tell his smile is forced, but at least he's trying.

  Images of Dale being pushed into the back of a police car assault me. The stolen car. The jail break. He was in juvie for sure. Tears burn the back of my eyes. "Where is Dale?"

  "At school."

  "What?"

  Mom takes my hand and sits down next to me.

  "He's been here as much as possible. His parents have had to drag him away several times. I'm sure he'll be by after school."

  "But... what about jail?"

  My parents give each other an odd look.

  "I thought..." I frown and lick my lips. "I thought he was arrested?"

  "Dale?" My Dad sits forward in his chair. "For what?"

  "For..." I swallow down my sentence and start to wonder about that car ride back to the police station.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  I spend the rest of the day wondering about the car ride to the station. Sheriff Hutton must have changed his mind if Dale walked free, but I thought he'd be frying his backside and serving him up for dinner. We had totally been trespassing, there was no denying that.

  The word of a Sheriff against the word of an ex-criminal. Dale had no show.

  I fidget with my hospital wristband and shift in my bed, careful not to move my splinted knee. Checking the wall on the clock for the millionth time that day, I will Dale to walk through the door and explain everything.

  Mom and Dad left me alone to sleep for a little while, but my eyes won't stay shut. I don't care that I'm exhausted. I need answers.

  I didn't want to delve into details with Mom and Dad so spent the rest of the day chatting about the kinds of changes we were going to make at home. We were interrupted several times by doctors and physical therapists explaining about my long road back to recovery.

  Just thinking about how much work I need to do to get my limbs moving properly makes me want to cry. I bite down hard on my lip, not wanting to give into the waterworks again.

  I glance at the clock. Four o'clock.

  "Damn it, Dale, hurry up."

  My door clicks open and I glance up with a smile. It fades when I see a shame-faced Adam shuffle through the door. I think I spot a muss of curls in the corridor, but the door closes before I can confirm it.

  "Hey, Nicole." Adam fidgets with the zipper on his jacket while he waits at the end of the bed.

  "Where's Dale? Is he safe? What happened to him?"

  Adam raises his hands, no doubt trying to stop my invasion of questions.

  "He's fine. Dad didn't charge him with anything. In fact we snuck in the back of the station and Dad pretended that Dale had been there the whole time."

  "How did the deputy not notice?"

  Adam shrugs.

  "He had a ton of paperwork to clean up. When we got there he was just finishing and going on about wind or something."

  I bite back my smile.

  "What about the stol... borr
owed car?"

  "Dale insisted Dad drive him back, so he could return it. He even stopped and filled it up with gas."

  How Dale is that? I grin.

  "Why did your Dad change his mind?"

  "Dale promised not to say anything... about me or my car."

  "And your Dad just let him go?"

  "I think Dad's going to be watching him pretty carefully."

  "He's afraid... and he should be."

  Guilt washes over Adam's face.

  I shoot him a sharp glare.

  "Why are you here, Adam?"

  "I was told I had to..." He looks to the door then back at me. "I'm sorry... for what I did."

  "You mean being a coward?"

  He flushes bright red and looks to the floor.

  "You don't know my Dad."

  Pity needles its way into my system.

  "I know enough. I get why you didn't say anything, but I don't get why you're letting him control you this way."

  Adam looks up.

  "He nearly made you a murderer."

  His lips go white.

  "If Dale hadn't been there, what would you have done? Would you have buried me alive, like your Dad wanted?"

  "How did you know that?" His white face wrinkles with confusion.

  I shake my head.

  "Do me a favor, Adam. Tell your Dad where to stick it. This is your life and you don't want to get to the end of it and realize you've actually lived his."

  His brows pucker.

  "Why aren't you trying to kill me right now?"

  "I have a smashed up arm and a splinted leg. It's kind of challenging."

  A small grin plays on his lips.

  "I mean it, Adam. I won't say anything about what happened, that's your decision... just please use this nightmare for good. I'm not going through all this shit so everything around me can just go back to the way it was. Change has to happen... and not just for me." I raise my eyebrows then lift my index finger and point it straight at him. "And if I ever see you pointing a gun at someone again, I'm gonna kick your ass to Jupiter."

  The smile on his lips grows wider.

  "You know when you say stuff like that you sound like her."

  "Who?"

  "The old Nicky."

  I smile back at him, feeling a blush warm my cheeks.