Dark Visions (26 page)

She got to her knees when the guns quieted.
Alex was standing now, bleeding from a wound in his lower belly
area. She saw Gert with his back against the wall under the kitchen
window.

Her mind thought wildly that this wasn't
something eighteen year olds were supposed to be a part of. She
questioned briefly why she was even here.

Gert had blood circling in two areas of his
chest. The fatal sign that death was close could be the dazed look
on his face as blood gurgled from the corners of his mouth. He
sputtered and coughed, the effort all but knocking him closer to
the ground like he wanted to lie down. Something about this scene
pleased Sarah. She caught herself smiling at the finality of
it.

As Alex stepped closer to Gert, Sarah got to
her feet and edged around the pile of debris. She was an arm's
length from Alex now.

Alex took the cops gun in his hand and
tossed it over his shoulder. He was reaching for Gert's gun.

She knew she should get out of this place.
Here was her chance. But could she get out that window and around
the corner before he was on her?

She lifted the wood not sure what would
happen. She didn't like this role. She wanted to help people. She
realized in the same thought that she was helping.

She was saving herself.

Alex was on his knees now, fumbling with
Gert's hand to get his gun. With the nail jutting out on the side,
Sarah swung with everything she had left in her.

Alex was quicker.

He turned toward her and a flash of
lightning erupted from his hand as the nail was embedded in his
shoulder.

Sarah felt something punch her on the left
side of the chest so hard she spun on her feet and fell to her
knees. No pain accompanied the impact immediately. She could see
the gun in Alex's hand.

It would look like Gert had killed her and
shot Alex too. The boss walks out of here alive and all evidence
dies in this farmhouse.

Not today.

Not while Sarah had the use of one arm
still. Her mind raced back to what she wrote.
...don't thump,
rip and tear, better to be savage...

She pulled hard to get the nail out of his
flesh. It must have hit bone because it was stuck. Alex screamed
and started to raise the gun again. She jerked and pulled,
dislodging the weapon.

This was it, one last try.

With a smaller arc, Sarah imbedded the nail
in Alex's neck behind his lower ear about where the jaw pivots. He
screamed again and dropped the gun just as it had leveled with her
head.

His hand found the business end of the wood
and tried to pull it out. Before he could, Sarah turned her body
away from him, holding the stud in an iron grip.

The nail pulled itself through the flesh of
his cheek, ripping it wide open on a trail to his lips.

She fell to the floor with his screams
piercing her consciousness. She saw blood everywhere, spilling over
both his hands as he struggled to keep it in.

Her chest was on fire now. Her breathing
became shallow as pain started echoing through her.

The scene became surreal as voices assailed
her from all over. She wondered if she'd been too cocky today.

She opened her eyes. It was such a
struggle.

She saw men in shiny black helmets and black
suits carrying what looked like assault rifles.

Then she blacked out minus the pen and
paper.

Chapter 65

Sarah felt thirst accompanied with such
dryness that her mouth ached when she moved her tongue. A small
stab of pain went with each attempt to swallow. She kept her eyes
shut as she listened.

Someone had to be told how thirsty she was.
Light could be detected through her eyelids. She felt her mouth was
open. Maybe that's why it was as dry as dust. When she pressed her
lips together, breathing became a little more difficult. Something
was in her nose. Her body felt foreign to her as it rebelled with
aches and pains.

She got her eyes open to small slits. The
light was coming from a small lamp on a table beside the bed she
lay in. It was almost too bright to keep her eyes open. She turned
a little left to avoid its direct rays, but stopped when sharp pain
shot through her shoulder.

When the pain subsided to a dull ache, Sarah
was asleep again.

***

Rising out of a storm, swimming deep,
searching for the surface, Sarah fought her way up.

She opened her eyes with a start. Her mouth
was so dry it felt like she was massaging sand around her tongue. A
nurse was just leaving the room. Sarah took in her
surroundings.

Hospital room, flowers filling a table by
the window. Sun beaming in through the blinds. Her mother was
asleep in a padded chair, a book in her lap.

"Mom," she moaned. "Mom?" she tried
again.

Her mother turned her head and woke up. The
paperback dropped to the ground as she jumped from her seat.

"You're awake," she stammered. "Oh baby, how
do you feel?"

"Thirsty."

Her mother grabbed a water bottle and a
straw from beside the bed and carefully placed it to Sarah's lips.
The pain was still there when she swallowed but now she knew why.
Two plastic tubes were in her nose. They worked their way around
and down the back of the throat.

"What are the...tubes for?"

"The doctor said something about
nourishment. They go to your stomach. You've been asleep for over
two days. I'm so happy you're back."

Sarah pulled on the straw a little more,
then laid her head back. "Me too."

"We've got a lot to talk about. Your father
met Mary Bennett. It seems you've been up to some kind of hero
business. I don't know the whole story, but I'd like to hear it.
Everything does seem kind of dangerous seeing the position you're
in now."

Sarah nodded and looked down at the mound of
bandages covering her gunshot wound.

"First I'd like you to tell me about my
sister."

***

The next couple of days were a blur. Visits
from the FBI for statements. More flowers arriving daily. The woman
from the trailer who got shot in the foot came by to see how she
was doing. Kim Wepps did a surprise visit. Dolan came in a
wheelchair. Both bullets missed vital organs and didn't even nick a
bone.

Mary Bennett was one of the most emotional
visits. Sarah was kidnapped and had to endure what she spared Mary
from yet Mary felt responsible. It didn't help that she covered for
Sarah the night she was taken.

Esmerelda wouldn't stop hugging her.

The most unusual visitor came at random
times and spoke of societal decay. She also talked about the future
and how it would be safer. Previous mistakes would be avoided.

This visitor spoke through Sarah's pen.

Her sister Vivian said when the time was
right, she'd even tell Sarah who killed her.

Chapter 66

Four years later...

Aaron Beck lowered his newspaper at the
sound of the bus rounding the corner. He folded it under his arm
and fished for the proper change in his pocket.

What did buses charge nowadays anyway? He
hadn't ridden a bus since he was a teenager. With his car in the
shop and his wife Carol working downtown today he had no choice but
to use the public transit system.

The bus pulled up and the accordion doors
slid open. Three passengers stepped on before him. He approached
the driver, paid his due and walked to the back, where it was
relatively empty.

He opened his paper and commenced reading.
So absorbed in his perusal of the news he didn't notice the girl
staring at him. His peripheral vision caught her after a few
moments.

She was a young woman of about twenty-two,
with close cropped blondish hair. He looked up and saw a pad of
paper nestled in her right hand with her left hand scrawling on
it.

Then Aaron's eyes were caught in her
stare.

Her intensity startled him. It was an
unsettling feeling, causing him to peel his eyes away.

He tried to read his newspaper, but couldn't
focus. So he lowered it and glanced outside.

Less than a second later he found himself
drawn into her fierce stare, unable to pull away.

There was no way he knew this girl.

He was about to ask her why she was staring
when she signaled the driver that she wanted off the bus.

Then she walked over and dropped the notepad
into Aaron's lap.

"You don't know me and have no reason to
believe me. You've got less than six minutes to save your wife's
life. She and three of her friends are about to cross Front Street,
downtown. The worker's truck is without a driver and your wife
won't make it." She glanced at her watch. "Call Carol now. There's
only five and a half minutes left."

The bus slowed to a stop and the young girl
headed for the door.

Aaron watched her leave, mouth agape. What
was she talking about? This has got to be a joke. This stranger
just told him that his wife was going to die.

He looked down at the notepad.

"Hold it! I need off here too," Aaron
shouted.

Landing on the sidewalk, Aaron looked both
ways.

The girl was nowhere in sight. He looked
down at the pad in his hand again.

The words stunned him.

In seconds he scanned the top page and was
pulling his cell phone out of his pocket.

Aaron could hear his wife's phone ringing on
the other end. He wondered how much time remained of the six-minute
prophecy.

Pick up. Don't tell me you left your cell
phone in the office.

Carol, please pick up.

On the fifth ring Aaron heard the music of
his wife's voice.

She was still alive.

"Where're you?"

"Aaron, is everything all right?"

"Yes! Just tell me where you are."

"Okay, okay. I'm with a few of my
girlfriends. We're walking downtown. We've decided to go for a
coffee at this Danish pastry shop Marge is always talking
about."

"What street are you on?" Aaron asked. He
could hear his voice cracking.

"Aaron? You sound..."

"What street?"

"I don't know."

Aaron could hear her pull the phone away
from her ear and ask one of her companions what street they were
walking on. "Dwight Street."

"Can you see Front Street ahead? Are you
going to pass Front Street?"

"Yes, actually. I'm close enough now to read
the sign, why?"

"STOP! Don't go any further." Aaron thought
he heard her footsteps halting.

"Aaron, tell me what's going on," Carol
sounded agitated.

"This girl, on the bus," he was panting now,
like he'd run a race, his heart beating fast. "She wrote things on
a piece of paper and told me you'd be dead in six minutes. I'm
supposed to stop you from crossing Front Street."

"What girl? What's this about? I'm standing
here with my friends. The sun is shining. Everything's fine."

"I've never met this girl, but she knows us.
She wrote about my surgery when I was twelve. About how you and I
met. She jotted down your birth date, middle name and the year your
parents died in that head-on collision when you were still a baby.
Carol, no one could've known those things." Aaron grew hysterical,
as he continued to scan the area for any sign of the girl.

"What was that part about me dying?" she
asked. "You aren't pulling my leg are you? The lights ahead have
changed to green. We're supposed to cross now."

"She told me to stop you from crossing Front
Street. If you do, you'll die."

***

Carol saw that her girlfriends had started
without her.

She dropped the phone from her ear and
looked from side to side.

That's when she noticed the dump truck.

Half a block up, road crews were repairing
the asphalt.

She could see that no one had noticed the
truck coming down Front Street with no driver.

It was already gaining speed, barreling
towards the throng of pedestrians in the middle.

Carol started screaming for people to get
out of the way.

Only six people of the twenty or so in the
intersection heard her, or chose to pay attention.

***

Sarah read the newspaper the next day. It
reported two people were seriously injured, seven critical. None of
the injured were Carol's friends, who had held back just
enough.

Sarah realized that she always needed to
work harder if she was going to help people. Accidents like
yesterday's might have been avoided if she'd stuck around and
talked to Carol herself.

She also knew that she had to be ready.

She picked up her gun. She made sure it was
loaded.

Her sister's killer was still out there.

He didn't know she was meeting him in seven
hours.

<<<<>>>>

Read the first three chapters of Dark
Visions Book 2, "The Warning"

Chapter 1

The woods were darker and more ominous this
time.

Jack Tate tightened his grip on the
terrier's leash, drawing him closer.

A breeze washed past his face. The darkening
sky revealed a purple hue, offering no comfort.

Something about the woods bothered him. He
slowed, watching the trees ahead, thinking with each step;
should I turn around? Or should I take the familiar path through
the woods that leads around in a circle back to my house
?

On one hand he wondered why he was making
such a big deal about it. He'd done this walk hundreds of times.
This wasn't a high crime area. What could go wrong?

A sound came from the woods. It was a soft
hum that could've been the trees billowing in the breeze.

He felt the leash loosen as Champ moved
closer.

"Hello?"

Now he felt foolish, calling into the trees
as if someone was there.