by Holly Hook
Somewhere, a girl cried and begged for the police on her cell phone.
The hunter was going to kill someone. I couldn’t stand here and let someone else die for me.
I searched around for any weapon I could find. One of the women screamed for security. Her terror made my heart ache. I settled on the cart the mother had left. Groceries. Bread. Chips. A huge jar of dill pickles.
I seized that and ran towards the man. He made another grunt like an animal and drew his knife from the rack of gum. He bared all his teeth. Everyone had backed away from him now, but he turned his craziness on a young man in a Wal-Mart uniform who stood at the mouth of the checkout lane. The guy was all computer nerd. The nerd's mouth fell open as he eyed the knife. He was the man for the job and he wasn’t going to last long against Godzilla.
“Sir,” the young man managed.
The hunter advanced, letting out a roar.
The employee backed into the jewelry case. He bent back over it, flailing. A woman screamed. The girl with the phone babbled to the operator. All thought left me. I ran towards the crazy guy with the jar of pickles. He was raising his knife. The young man closed his eyes.
I lifted the jar with both hands and bashed it against the attacker's head.
Glass exploded and the man stood there for a second, pickle juice running down his back, and then wobbled in place. He dropped the knife and fell, landing in a sitting position.
I had stunned him.
I backed away, shocked at my own actions. The crazy hunter groaned and reached out towards the employee, who backed away.
Somewhere in the distance, police sirens sounded. No one spoke. The entire front of Wal-Mart had gone quiet.
I leaned down and picked up the knife. Something about it seemed familiar. I had seen this knife before. The grooves. The exact point, curved in on one side. The grayish border around the black. The shine and most of all, the red jewel encrusted on the handle. This wasn't an ordinary hunting knife. This was something from another time. Maybe even another world.
And then the hunter turned his head to face me.
And he grinned, showing all of his yellow teeth.
"You don't remember who you are, do you?"
I almost dropped the knife. I backed away into the checkout line and stepped over packs of gum. I had to get away from that guy's stare and the knowing look he was giving me.
"Girl, hand me the knife."
It was one of the female employees, one of the women he had tried to stab.
"Hand me the knife, please. Back away from this man. He's insane." Her voice was shaking and I caught a glimpse of her blue vest out of the corner of my eye.
I turned towards her and surrendered it.
I was too freaked out to be myself right now.
The sliding doors came open and officers spilled in, guns drawn. The hunter stood up from the floor, dripping with pickle juice, and stared at the oncoming police force as if he wasn't sure what he was staring at.
And then he fled towards the back of the door, stumbling the whole way. The hunter fell as the police yelled at him to freeze. He tried to stagger to his feet again, but it was no use. Four officers tackled him and he made another roaring sound. I watched a police woman cut cuffs on him. They kept him pinned for a long time. I couldn't move. The whole scene had everyone frozen and watching.
Finally, they stood the guy up. A male officer said something to him. He was probably getting read his rights. The hunter snarled at him and grinned again. It was the creepiest thing I had ever seen on an otherwise normal person.
This guy could have cut my heart out and taken it to Sara.
Sara must have hired this guy. She wanted my heart in a box. I wondered where the guy had hidden that and if it had a skull on it like everything else Sara owned.
I was glad I wasn't holding the knife anymore. It was definitely heart-cutting out material. The woman next to me held it like she wasn't sure what to do. This wasn't your normal Wal-Mart customer.
And then people started to move as the shock wore off.
The mother with her kids herded them out the door, turning the little boy so he wasn't looking at the scene that might scar him for life. The woman next to me leaned over and whispered something to another employee, then faced me with something like admiration.
It was then that the stress and terror of it all hit me.
A weak feeling spread through my limbs as the police brought the jerk closer to the front doors. Red and blue light pulsed through them and shone off the glass. I'd never been in a crime scene before. An older officer waved the woman with the knife over and she hesitated, then walked up to him.
They talked for a bit. And then the woman pointed at me.
"She knocked him out," she said loud enough for the entire front of the store to hear. "That girl smashed a pickle jar on his head and knocked him out. She saved Jeffrey's life!"
I shrunk back as every eye in the store turned towards me.
People clapped. Heat rushed to my face. I was going to die.
The police would want to talk to me next.
And I still had to get to Eric's house. That was across town if Moanna was right.
"I..." I managed. "I was just trying to stop the crazy guy from stabbing someone!"
Then I realized that the hunter was standing right there, cuffed between two officers. They had stopped right behind the older officer and the woman he was talking to.
And then he spoke.
"I'm the crazy one?" he asked. He glared right at me and smiled again. "You don't even remember Fable. You don't even remember your life there. It's this world that's insane and hard to understand." Then he turned his gaze on the officers. "Why have you bound me?" he asked. "I merely had a job to do."
One of the officers tugged on him and led the guy outside.
Fable.
The name sounded right and familiar and so out of reach.
I might seriously be from another world. The idea didn't sound too far fetched after everything that had happened.
Was there a world where the fairy tales were real?
And now they were bleeding into this one?
Sara might be from there, too, and Eric had no idea.
I had to get out of here before the police decided they wanted to talk to me all night and call the media while they were at it. I could see the story now. Girl thwarts insane stabber with jar of pickles. That wouldn't get any attention from the man in black or his minions at all. There was also no possible way it would make him or Sara mad.
I had to run.
The front door was way out with all the cop cars. The older officer kept talking to the woman, who got more animated the more she spoke. Now was the time to go. I turned and ran through the checkout line again, crunching packs of gum under my shoes, and bolted for the back of the store. No one stopped me. Everyone had gathered up near the front. But I had no doubt someone would point the police my way.
Time was wasting here.
I found a store room in the back and ran through boxes and cartons and towards a back door. I burst out and heard more police sirens. My bike was in the front of the store, still chained to that rack. I wished Moanna's brother hadn't made her leave so fast. I could have asked for a ride. Sara could have killed Eric already just to get to me.
I stood there, torn between getting my bike and running the three miles to Eric's house. The police would keep me forever, asking questions. They'd never believe me about Sara trying to kill me. They had no evidence and if I told them about cursed combs and ties choking teachers, I'd be joining the crazy hunter in whatever mental hospital he'd be heading to.
I had to run for it.
Eric might not have taken Sara to his house, but I had to try.
The back of Wal-Mart bordered on the farm supplies store and I had no choice but to climb the chain-link fence and hop over. It took forever to reach Eric's house, even following the GPS in my phone to the other side of town, a part I had never venture
d to. Or at least, it was a part that I thought I had never ventured to. I didn't have a car and Stephanie never drove us out this way.
It was a whole different world out on Rambridge Road.
The houses were old and must have been here since the Victorian era. Some of the bigger ones looked like little castles and had vines growing up their stone walls. Maybe they were castles. A few of them had tall fences and gates. A dog barked at me as I walked past. My feet felt ready to explode and the light was dimming. It was evening. I wasn't home for dinner and Stephanie might be getting worried. But Eric could be in danger and I had taken long enough to come looking for him. Not that it was my fault.
Then I saw the right address on a stone mailbox, in gold letters.
I drew closer. This was the place, all right.
And it was the biggest house on the street.
And also, the most castle-like.
Eric's house rose above the others. Made of gray and brown brick with a reddish roof, it had almost no vines growing up it and a tower looked down at me with a single, dark window.
And it also had the tallest fence on the street. It towered feet over my head with iron spikes on top. I stopped at the gate, which sat between two stone pillars. It was just as high as the fence.
I searched around for camera that might be watching and found one above my head, peering down from the inside of a brick. The lens reflected the streetlight down the road and I looked like a dark shape inside of it. There had to be a buzzer here. These places always had them. This was one fence I didn't want to climb and I didn't need anyone calling the cops on me. And not to mention, this place probably had an alarm that would call them automatically. Eric's family had to be the most paranoid around here.
I found the buzzer after searching for a minute and pushed it.
There was no sound. A light turned on inside the house as if someone had been laying low. I stood on my tiptoes and waved. Waited. No speaker came on asking what my business was.
But at last, the front door came open and an older lady stood there.
There was some distance between us, but I could see her staring. She was wearing a blue apron with some company logo on it and she studied me as if trying to figure out if I was a threat or not. I waved again since it was a big lawn. "Hi," I said. "Is Eric home? I'm a friend from school and I just need to talk to him."
My heart raced. What would I say? What if he was falling for Sara and this was the part where he was going to tell me I was a pile of dog crap and he wasn't interested? That was the best case scenario. I didn't want to think about the worst one, but I couldn't give up on him. I wouldn't. Sara was not going to destroy me or him like this.
The maid drew closer. "Eric?" she asked. "He's home, but he doesn't want company at the moment, I'm afraid." She had a funny accent that I couldn't place. Why was she talking so old fashioned? "You had better leave."
"Is anyone in there with him?" I asked.
"No," the woman said. "No one else is here." Her expression hardened and she stopped halfway to me. "Go. We don't like unknown visitors."
She was acting like I was there to rob them or something. "Sorry I'm a reject from Haven House," I said. "Did you know that Sara is, too? You let her in, didn't you?"
"You need to get out of here," she said, pointing down the road in the opposite direction I had come from. "There is no Sara here. Eric didn't give anyone a lift today. You need to mind your own business, girl, and allow Eric to make his own decisions. You have no place in them."
I balked. This woman knew what was going on. I had no doubt. No sane person would talk like this to someone ringing their bell that they had never even met. "Eric told you to say this to me," I said. "He knew I'd turn up here." Hurt welled up inside me and I wanted to die. I wanted to hurt someone.
The woman took a step back. "Eric said nothing," she said. "Now you need to go before I call the police."
"What's going on?" I shouted. I grabbed onto the gates. "Did Sara do something to you? Is she controlling you?"
"Sara is--" The woman shook her head, caught. "I'm going to go inside and call the police. Return home, girl. It's for your own good as well as hers."
And the maid turned away.
In the tower, the curtains drew back a little. They surrounded a pale face who stared down at us.
Sara's face.
I tensed. "Don't go back in the house," I said to the maid. "She's dangerous. She might hurt you.”
But the maid wasn’t listening to me. Where were Eric’s parents? Didn’t they ever hang around? The maid kept walking back to the front door, quickening her pace as if I were about to shoot her.
Or as if Sara were about to do something.
“Come back!” I shouted, grabbing onto the bars.
The maid stopped.
Sucked in a breath.
And then I realized. Her apron was tightening around her, constricting her body. It was happening again, just like it had with Mr. Rain.
The maid opened the door and struggled for breath, then moved over the threshold. There was nothing I could do. Sara vanished from the window and above and the maid staggered further into the light of the house. Just before she managed to close the door, I saw her apron loosen a bit and she breathed a huge sigh of freedom and relief.
And then silence.
I stood there for a long time, staring at that closed door.
Sara had tried to kill the maid for speaking to me, for not getting me to leave fast enough. She had Eric and the maid hostage and I had no way to get onto the grounds. I stood there for what felt like minutes. My heart raced and a sob of frustration rose in my throat. Sara had taken Eric from me. She had even let Eric speak to me before she did it, just to make the whole thing so much worse. I liked Eric and now the rest of his life was ruined. She’d keep him on a leash like some psycho girlfriend.
“Hey!” I shouted at the tower window. “Let Eric go!”
And then a police car turned the corner of the street. The maid had called them like she promised.
I let go of the bars and got ready for it. The cruiser stopped and a woman leaned out and waved me closer. I obeyed. My fight with the maid was over for now. There was no way I could try anything else.
“Girl,” the officer asked. “Are you bothering these people?”
Her voice dripped with suspicion. I wanted to cry. Sara had slapped me in the face and now I was a Haven House reject in this rich neighborhood. And on top of it, I might not live much longer.
“I’m not,” I said. “I was just asking to see a friend from school. I’m not trying to break in or anything.”
The officer wouldn’t have it. She waved me down the street. “It’s getting late,” she said. “You should get back home. Where do you live?”
I gulped.
And told her.
“Hop in,” she said. “I’ll take you there. And I’ll also be telling your guardian what you’ve been up to.”
I was damned without a trial. “I was only asking to see someone! I didn’t realize that was a crime. Or is it only a crime when you’re poor and the person you want to talk to is rich?”
“In,” the officer repeated. “Do not make me radio for backup.”
I wanted to say something about what a horrible person I was, stopping that crazy hunter guy from stabbing someone in Wal-Mart, but I decided to keep quiet about that. I didn’t want her taking me to the station instead and opening up some big case about the hunter guy.
Or maybe I should.
I had to know who had hired him—whether it be Sara or the man in black. I couldn’t rule him out, either.
As she drove, I told the police woman that I was the one who hit the crazy guy over the head with the pickle jar. She radioed another officer when I said that and made a turn towards the police station. My night wasn’t over yet.
I didn’t know what else to do. The only thing I could do right now was figure out who had hired the crazy guy to cut out my heart.
There was still a part of me that hoped Sara hadn’t been the one.
That maybe I was just misunderstanding things.
I got to the station and she led me in. I had to sit in the lobby while a secretary watched me to make sure I didn’t run away again. I was going to get a lecture about that. Maybe I wouldn’t get that too badly if I was a rich girl, but being from Haven House…nope.
It went as I expected. The older police officer came back and waved me back to an office. I felt like I was the one who had committed the crime, not the crazy hunter guy. He grilled me on running away from the scene when they needed questions answered. After that, he asked me what had happened in Wal-Mart to get the guy to chase me. “I don’t know,” I said, trying to hold down my anger. I wanted to slap this officer. He hadn’t even thanked me for stopping him from stabbing the Wal-Mart employee. Maybe he was even blaming me for the whole thing. “He just walked up to me in the electronics section, all crazy-like, and reached for his knife. He said something about my heart and I ran.”
The officer wrote something down in his laptop. His face reflected off it and he slid the computer off to the side.
“Do you know why he came after me?” I asked. "I think that's kind of important."
“That was something I hoped you would know,” he told me.
“Look,” I said. “You have to help me here. I want to know why this guy came after me and if anyone sent him.”
“Do you have any enemies?” The officer glared at me. “We’ve been having trouble getting the man to talk. I don’t think he’s sane, frankly, but we still can’t rule out some kind of motive. Nothing he says makes any amount of sense.”
“What’s he been babbling about?” I wondered if he’d spoken about this Fable place at all. This place that sounded so familiar, like a distant memory in the back of my mind.
Like something that could have been washed away the moment I woke up in Mr. Rain’s classroom.
The old officer stood up. His last name was James, I saw on his tag. “Stay here,” he said. “I’ll return in a few minutes. Do you want anything to drink?”