The Weird Travels of Aimee Schmidt: The Curse of the Gifted (27 page)

Abruptly, the voice from the hot tub climbed to a feverish pitch. Goosebumps rose on Aimee's arms. The girl
wasn’t singing anymore. Her screams were bloodcurdling. She was in
real
trouble! The music
from inside the house never dimmed. Obviously no one, except Aimee, heard her.

Without a second thought, she jumped into action and flew through the door. Empty beer bottles littered the walkway and the wooden deck. Aimee jumped over them and ran towards the girl, whose wails escalated. A dark haired head bobbed up and down above the surface like a water toy, while her arms flayed at something behind her. The girl's screams were muffled every few seconds when her head disappeared below the surface of the water. Aimee halted a few feet from the hot tub and glanced back towards the house. The party raged on. They were oblivious that their friend was drowning.

In one long step, Aimee reached the side of the hot tub. The filter had an inescapable hold on the long brown hair of the scantily clad girl. Her attempts to free herself were futile, and Aimee figured she only had a minute at most left before it sucked her under completely as it ate her hair inch by inch. In the pale, flickering tiki lights, Aimee stared down at the girl’s terror-stricken face…and she froze. For the umpteenth time, Aimee's heart quit beating.

Brandi Peter’s face peered up just below the surface of the water!

The ex-girlfriend of her beloved Dylan was drowning in the hot tub. The girl who undoubtedly hated Aimee more than anyone else in this world, and the girl who relished in making her life a living hell, now needed Aimee to save her. For a few seconds Aimee hesitated. Evil thoughts raced through her brain. Brandi was so wasted she didn’t have any idea who Aimee was. Her friends certainly didn’t know she was here. Aimee could turn around and walk away. They would find her drowned body. A bubbly whimper slipped from her lips and floated up from under the water’s surface. Brandi's eyes rolled back into her head. Aimee snapped back into action. Her evil thoughts immediately vanished.

She wrapped her fingers around Brandi's hair and yanked with as much power as possible. The filter held a death grip on her locks. With no more time to get the hair loose, Aimee searched for something to cut Brandi free. On the bar next to a half empty bottle of tequila and several limes, Aimee spotted a knife.

The filter wasn’t going to win this battle, not if Aimee could help it. Brandi's gasps were getting fewer and weaker. With only seconds left before her head remained under, Aimee leaped to the bar and snatched the butcher knife, then in a fraction of a second returned and slid the knife into the water, grabbed Brandi’s hair, and started sawing Brandi free with the razor sharp blade. Aimee tilted Brandi's head back to get her nose above the surface. With a strange twinge of satisfaction she tightened her grip around the wooden knife handle and continued to saw against the thick band of hair. Clumps of brown hair quickly gave way, then floated into the hot tub. Brandi moaned once and gasped for air. Her head went under, then it bobbed up above the surface of the water briefly. Her eyes flickered opened, but wandered wildly. With one final swipe, Aimee ripped through the last piece held fast by the filter. Brandi's body immediately sank. Aimee dropped the knife, then reached in under Brandi’s arm pits. A sharp pain seared through her chest. Aimee bit her lip, fought back the tears, and continued. With one big tug, she pulled Brandi’s limp body over the edge of the hot tub and fell backwards onto the grass. Brandi landed on top of her. This time the pain shot completely through her body, and blackness overtook Aimee's brain. Brandi whimpered and abruptly rolled off Aimee to the side. Aimee snapped back awake. Brandi started gagging. Water dribbled from her mouth. At least she was breathing. Aimee was positive Brandi was so wasted she wouldn’t remember anything - not her almost drowning in the hot tub, and certainly not Aimee saving her. She stared at Brandi's ragged, chopped hair. She smirked. Brandi definitely had a reminder from tonight.

Aimee hated her for what she and her friends had tried to do to her. She knew someone in the house belonged to the white truck. One of the boys had stalked her from the grocery store, then ran her off the road. Aimee may not find out tonight, but she was determined to find out who had driven the truck, and how Brandi was involved. For a second she thought about the accident before she traveled. She wondered how bad she would be when she returned. With any luck, she would still be alive.

Abruptly, Brandi’s brown eyes popped wide open, and she gawked straight into Aimee's face. She gasped, and then she passed out. Aimee shook her, but she didn’t respond.

From inside the house Aimee heard loud laughter, and then the French door started to swing open. She didn’t even have time to move before she saw their faces in the dim light. Nicole, Randi, and two boys, one with dark hair who had to be the driver of the truck, were coming through the doorway. Aimee was doomed. But before they spotted either of them lying on the dark ground, Aimee left.

Like always, she got sucked back into the dark tunnel. Only this time was different. She couldn’t feel anything. She couldn’t tell she was traveling because the darkness invaded her mind. She was knocked out cold, and when Aimee finally returned to the present, the painful entry jarred her awake. She landed onto sodden ground next to her wrecked car. She tried to get up, but she couldn’t move. For a while Aimee drifted in and out. She didn’t know how long it took, but finally her senses emerged and she came completely out of her fog. Her body felt as twisted as the dead deer that was a few feet away. If she was lucky, someone would drive down this road and see the wrecked car alongside the road, but how long would she have to wait? Fifteen minutes? An hour? A day? Aimee stared into the deer’s round, black eyes. At least she was luckier than he had been. She was busted up, but alive.

After a couple minutes she remembered the journey, and Brandi’s face when she opened her eyes
and looked at Aimee
. Would she remember what happened, or was she too wasted? Surely her
butchered hair was proof something terrible had happened.
For a few more minutes her thoughts raced.
What if I didn’t travel in the recent past? What if I
traveled into the future and the party hasn’t happened yet? Will I get back to school and find Brandi no
different?
No matter what, Aimee could never look at her the same way again. Even if this hadn’t
happened yet, it was destined to happen. Aimee had altered the outcome and saved her life. But Brandi
no longer was
just
Dylan’s ex-girlfriend. She was now forevermore Aimee's nemesis. Her standard
forgiving and non-conflicting nature had disappeared. She felt an overwhelming urge to get even.

Aimee wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but the cool dampness of the ground left her chilled to the bone. It started to mist lightly. The air felt even colder. Her teeth chattered violently. She figured she had a couple broken bones, the same rib, maybe a new one. Her right forearm hurt. A headache pounded behind her eyes, but she wasn’t bleeding, at least not anywhere Aimee could tell.

She raked her left hand across her forehead. “Ouch,” she mumbled. Aimee felt a small gash above her eye, but the blood felt clotted.

Aimee looked at the starless sky. Rain clouds hung low. If she didn’t do something quick to get warm, she could die of hypothermia. She was freezing. Her legs felt numb, and Aimee started to get
scared. She didn’t want to die. She had to get warm. Aimee thought,
Maybe I can get into the car. Even
though it’s totaled, it would give me some protection, at least, until someone finds me
.

She started to roll over. A piercing ache shot through her chest and Aimee swayed backwards. The pain was blinding. Fear changed into anger, and as usual moisture bubbled up in her eyes. She growled, “I refuse to die here like that stupid buck!”

But what if no one comes down this road all night? Dad isn’t home to worry about me not
returning. Chels is probably in bed fast asleep. Surely Dylan will check up on me when I don’t call him, or will he? He’s hanging out with his friends tonight since I was gonna be with Chelsea until late.
What if he’s partying and forgets about the time. What if…
Panicked thoughts ran amuck.
I can see the headlines
...y
oung Medford girl found dead in ditch…Dad 's gonna freakin' die.
I see him.
He's crying.
It’s just like losing Mom all over again. I’m sorry, Dad. I didn’t mean to hurt you! Dad, please, don’t leave me here…Oh Dylan! Why are you staring at me like that?
Your beautiful, chocolate eyes are
so dark
.
What’s wrong, Dylan?
Your lip is quivering. Please, please quit crying! God, no! Do you think I’m dead?
No, no, no!
“Dylan, dammit, I’m okay! Don’t cry, babe! For Christ’s sake, I’m alive!
Please, please, come get me…” whimpered Aimee.

Something suddenly moved underneath her. It stopped. Then it moved again. Then it stopped. Aimee was scared stiff for a few seconds. And finally it dawned on her what moved. Her cell phone in her back pocket vibrated and stopped. She rolled slightly to her side, cried out from the pain, then reached to her backside. She fingered the phone and yanked. The phone eased out and landed on the ground. She grabbed it, then hit Dylan’s number.

Before it could ring he answered,
“AIMEE, WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU! THANK GOD YOU’RE ALIVE! YOU HAD ME WORRIED OUT OF MY FRIGGIN’ MIND!!!”

His voice, even yelling, was the most beautiful sound. Tears welled up in her eyes. Aimee
whispered, “I’m
sooo
sorry, Dylan. I’m…I…had an accident…” A faint sob escaped.

“Omigod, are you okay?! What happened?! Aimee, tell me where you are….”

“I’m hurt, and I’m not sure where I am,” she mumbled. “All I remember is leaving the interstate north of town, I think, and driving on some road. The white truck was chasing after me…”

Before Aimee could say another word he interrupted, “A white truck was
chasing
you?”

“Some guy followed me from the store.” Her voice weakened. She was so miserably cold, and tired, and in pain. “I just wanna sleep, Dylan.”

“Aimee, sweetheart, stay with me. Stay awake!”

She jolted awake, then continued after a few seconds. “…uhh, the white truck ran me off the road. I guess I got out of the car somehow, and then passed out on the ground...” She strained to keep her voice steady. Her chest was on fire.

“Aimee, how bad are you hur…
hurt
?” His voice stammered on the last word.

“I can’t move...much. And I’m so
freakin’
cold. Dylan, please come get me…” Aimee started to
cry.

She continued sobbing into the phone. Dylan was silent for a long second, then asked with a pained voice, “My God, Aimee, think…what exit did you take?”

“I don’t know, Dylan, I swear, I don’t remember.”

“Look around you. What do you see?”

Moving took so much effort. The pain deepened. She turned her head to see if she spotted anything unusual.

She answered, “A dead buck.”

“A dead
buck
?!” he exclaimed. Quickly, he started again, his voice down a couple octaves. “So
okay, you hit a deer, right? Aimee, there must be woods around you…can you see anything that’ll help me find you? How far north of town did you get off 5? What about the road, two lanes? Is it windy? Are there any mailboxes? Aimee, for Christ’s sake, help me out here!”

After several long seconds to think, she remembered the exit she sped down trying to foolishly outrun the white truck. “Dylan, I think I got off the interstate just north of town. I don't know. 99 maybe. I was so scared I just kept trying to get away. I didn’t really pay any attention to where I was or where I was heading.”

“Okay…all right…but we’re getting somewhere. Aimee, listen sweetheart, are you bleeding?”

“I cut my brow, but it quit bleeding. I don’t think there’s anything else.”

“Good,” he replied quickly. “You can’t get up so that means you probably have something broken. Don’t move unless you have to.”

Aimee trembled trying to get the words out.
“Okay, Dylan, but I’m so
totally
cold. And it’s been raining so I’m wet and cold.”

Dylan was silent for a few seconds. “Aimee, I’m getting on the interstate. I’m coming by myself, but if I don’t find you within ten, maybe fifteen minutes tops, I’m calling the cops. Stay on the phone with me. Keep talking, okay? Just don’t go to sleep.”

“No, Dylan. No cops!” she argued weakly. “They’ll send an ambulance and I don’t want to go to the hospital again in an ambulance. I want you to get me. Please, Dylan, no cops.”

She could hear the FJ gunning down the interstate through the receiver. Aimee rolled slightly to her good side and pinned the phone between the ground and her ear. “Dylan, I’m so sorry,” she whispered apologetically. “I didn’t mean to get hurt.”

“For cryin’ out loud, Aimee,” he said, “I’m not angry. You have nothing to be sorry for. Thank God you’re alive. I’ve been trying to call you for over thirty minutes. I didn’t know what happened. I was going out of my freakin’ mind worrying. I went over to your house and it didn’t look like you had been home so I went by Chelsea’s and she said you dropped her off about ten thirty. I’ve been driving around looking for you and burning your phone up. Man, I don’t know what I would do if something…
worse
…had happened.”

“I’m
so
sorry I worried you, Dylan. I’m busted up a bit, but once you get here I’ll be okay.” She
snickered feebly then continued, “Dad’s gonna kill me for sure this time. I’ve had my Prius…geez, like two days...and wrecked it. That’s a record even for me.”