I can get to the button. There’s only one problem. There is a small gap between the waitress station and the register where the panic button is. Silas can see me working it out in my head and gives me another stiff, slow, shake of his head.
I hesitate. He’s telling me with his piercing eyes not to try anything, and I know the correct thing to do in these situations is stay quiet, calm, and cooperative, but something comes over me and I run for it. I’m not usually a brave person, and if I’m being honest, I’m not being brave now. Only scared and wanting them gone.
“Hey!” a young guy yells out before I can make it across to the register. “Stop! Get up!” I already know he means me, and I freeze completely, now terrified, but slowly I stand and put my hands up. Silas’s eyes close for only a moment before refocusing on the intruders. “C’mere,” the guy instructs me.
“She doesn’t need to do that. You can have whatever you want,” Silas assures the man. “Just let me open the register…”
“Shut up. C’mere girl,” the older of the two says. I finally get a good look at them. They aren’t familiar to me, and in a town this small I’m sure they must be from another area. The older of the two appears to be in his mid-twenties. He has blond hair, slicked back from what I assume is grease from not washing it, a five-o’clock shadow hides his broad face, and his hollow eyes appear menacing. The younger of the two could be a teenager himself and appears frightened and on edge. He’s small in comparison to the leader, and his hand trembles around his gun, making him seem even more unstable.
As I walk to the older, buffer, of the two, he spins me around with my back to him and puts the gun in my ribs. I wince. My heart is pounding and I can’t focus on anything but the gun in my side. I stare at Silas blankly and I see his jaw clench tightly. He moves to take a step forward, but the shaky teenager yells at him to stay put, and Silas rocks back on his heels.
“What do you want? You can have anything. Just don’t hurt her,” Silas reasons. I can now see Zeke and Kutz calmer than the rest, shielding the children and as many adults as they can from the men. Their stances are protective as they wait to see how things unfold.
“The money. All of it. And don’t push that button or she’s dead,” the leader promises. His breath is warm on my neck, and the smell of alcohol resonates off of him as if he’s been on a drinking binge for days. I stare at Silas as the gun jams further into my ribs and I moan against it. “Now!” the man yells.
“Okay. Okay.” The younger boy follows Silas to the cash register, pointing his gun right at Silas’s chest. Silas is calm and cooperative. He empties the register, glancing at me a few times and nodding to me as if everything will be okay, and I never see him push the button. I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or not. Handing the money to the teenager, the kid frantically attempts to shove it all in his pockets, dropping bills here and there, and having to scoop them up.
I suddenly hear the quiet screaming of sirens and I feel the leader tense behind me. My eyes close. This is it.
“You pushed the button!” the older man yells.
“I didn’t!” Silas hollers back frantically. For a moment I see Silas’s eyes fall from the intruders to mine and down to the gun at my side. I swallow hard. Suddenly, a firecracker sounds and I’m on the floor.
“No!” I hear a man yell. People are suddenly screaming around me, and I faintly hear the sound of the robbers and customers fleeing as my eyes become heavy and begin to close.
Four
A Close Encounter
I only see flashes of movement as I fall in and out of consciousness. I see a glimpse of Silas, and his lips are moving, but I can’t make out what’s being said. Suddenly, behind my ever-closing eyelids I see a brightness, and I open my eyes, squinting against it.
“This is wrong,” I hear a familiar voice say. It’s Kutz.
“You’re going to expose us all,” the equally familiar voice of Zeke agrees.
“This isn’t your place. The girl’s time is now.” I can’t place that voice. Squinting harder, I see a young man I don’t recognize kneeling beside me. His hand is on mine as I lie motionless on the floor.
“It doesn’t have to be. Not if I can help it,” Silas assures the man. My eyes close again. I feel nothing. There’s no pain. Until, there is! As if a red-hot iron is being placed against the right side of my body, I scream in pain. I’m finally awakened completely.
“This isn’t your place!” The unknown man screams at Silas. I glance to Silas and his eyes are calm, steady, as if concentrating on a task. My gaze finds the other man, but I don’t recognize him. His hair is sandy brown and hangs to his shoulders. His eyes are chocolate in color and kind, yet there’s concern in them.
“Shut up, Micah! Go back to where you came from. She’s not going with you!” Silas hollers, his eyes more piercing than ever before. Micah? I don’t know a Micah. Who is he? A customer? But why would I go with him? Another pain hits and I scream louder than before, hurting my own ears.
“Okay, if we’re going to do this, let’s do it right,” Zeke says. Are they trying to kill me? Obviously this Micah is here to take me to the hospital, and Silas and the others are causing me greater pain. Suddenly, there’s an icy chill where there was once burning. I see Zeke’s hands covering what I now think is a bullet wound. His eyes are closed and his face peaceful, pensive even.
“Are they gone?” I manage to choke out.
“They’re gone, hon,” Silas assures me in the kindest voice I’ve ever heard. “We’re going to move you to the back, okay? The police are almost here. Can you put your arms around my neck?”
“I think so.” I strain against the slight pain I still feel to place my arms around his neck, and he effortlessly scoops me up. As we enter the back, I see Kutz shove everything off a table and onto the floor with a loud crash that makes me jump.
“Shh, Emma. It’s okay. Everything is going to be fine. Stay here, lie still, and be quiet no matter what you hear. Kutz, stay with her.” I don’t have time to object or ask questions before he’s out the swinging door and in the lobby area with the police who’ve arrived on scene.
“I don’t understand what’s happening,” I mutter mostly to myself. “I’m shot. Don’t I need a hospital?”
“No, Emma, you weren’t. You’re fine. You just…fainted,” Kutz tells me.
I try to make that register with me, but it doesn’t. There was pain and I heard the shot. “Fainted,” I mumble under my breath.
“Yes.”
“But the pain…” I try to say.
“You hurt yourself when you fell,” Kutz assures me quickly. I’m more confused than ever. What were the bright lights? Who was Micah? I can see I’m getting nowhere with Kutz, so I wait patiently in the back for a few more minutes. Silas and Zeke are speaking calmly to the police on scene, explaining everything. Then I hear one of the witnesses mention me, and Kutz goes rigid beside me.
“She’s fine,” Silas tells the cop. “She fainted but she’s in the back resting.”
“I’d like to see her. We’ll need to ask her some questions,” the cop reiterates. There’s a slight pause.
“Of course. This way.”
Kutz quickly helps me sit up on the table and steadies me, holding onto my arms. He gazes into my eyes, and it’s then I notice he has the same bright-green eyes as his brother. I can see he’s trying to tell me something with them and I have a good idea of what.
“Miss Lester?” Officer Stone asks as he slowly walks to my side. Living in this small town I recognize him immediately. He has a son my age, and we attend the same school.
“Hi, Mr. Stone. I mean, Officer Stone,” I correct myself. I can feel my pulse rising and I don’t have to look around to know everyone’s eyes are on me, anticipating what I might say. Honestly, I’m not even sure what I’ll say. I’m not sure what happened myself. There are so many gaps that need to be filled.
“I heard you had a close encounter,” Mr. Stone says, placing his hand on
my shoulder, comforting me.
I nod slightly. “Yeah, close call.”
“And you’re not hurt at all?” Am I hurt? I realize now I no longer feel pain as I touch my right side. Mr. Stone glances to it.
“No, not at all. Just a little shook up. I apparently passed out.”
He glances to my side again. “The patrons thought you were shot.” I thought I was, too. “Do you mind if I take a look at you?”
My eyes finally find Silas’s and he gives me a single nod. “Sure. Go right ahead,” I say. He examines me up and down, and walks all the way around the table examining me.
“What’s this?” I feel his finger through my shirt and I freeze before glancing down. There’s a hole in my shirt that’s burnt around the edges.
“I, uh, my mother smokes. She must have done that while she was doing my laundry.”
“Do you mind if I see your side?” Again my eyes fly to Silas’s. Surprisingly, he has a slight smirk on his face that makes my head tilt a bit. I glance to Zeke and Kutz as well, but their faces are stoic.
“Sure.” I lift the side of my shirt, not knowing what he will find or what I, myself, expect. But to my surprise there is nothing. My hand finds my side and it is icy cold but nothing is there. Did I seriously just faint? Had there been no shot at all? Officer Stone seems pleased with his findings and spends a bit more time interviewing the three brothers. An ambulance is offered to me, but I refuse it and stay after the patrons have left.
Knowing there’s nothing there to be seen, my hand repeatedly finds my right ribs where the pain had been. I don’t even notice when the cops vacate the restaurant until Silas is at my side.
“How are you feeling?” Silas asks. It seems like such a simple question, but I can’t think of the answer right away. I just stare up at him. Zeke and Kutz have retreated to the back, and only Silas and I remain in the now extremely quiet pizzeria.
“Confused,” I manage to mumble. “I thought I was going to die.”
Silas takes a breath, and his eyes fall away from me. “That was never going to happen.”
“You sound so sure.”
“Because I am.”
There were so many questions I had. Had I not been shot? I heard a shot. It sounded like a firecracker. Who was this Micah and where was he now? Was he questioned as well? What was all that talk about it being “my time” and how this wasn’t Silas’s place? His place to do what?
“I know you saved my life, Silas.” It’s all I could talk myself into saying. There was no sense to my questions or anything else, but I know that whatever he and his brothers did had saved me. I force myself to peer up into his eyes once more. There’s nothing there. He is completely blank. There is no smirk or crooked smile, nor pain or confusion as I’m sure there is on my face. He just stares at me and me at him.
I want to tear my eyes away as usual, but something tells me to stand my ground this time. There is obviously no reason to fear him. Not anymore.
“You should go home and get some rest. Do you think you can drive?” It is a question, but he asks it as he walks away as if he is already sure I can.
“Who is Micah?” I call out after him. He stops in his tracks, not bothering to turn to meet my face again. I can feel the tension thick in the air. It’s almost suffocating me.
“No one you’ll be seeing again. Not if I can help it.” He mumbles the last under his breath. I again lift my shirt slightly and touch the bare skin over my right side. It’s still cold to the touch, though the rest of me feels flushed with warmth.
I grab my purse from behind the waitress station and slowly make my way to the side door. I flip the sign from Open to Closed before glancing back toward the kitchen where my bosses are in a huddle, talking quietly. As if they know an outsider is listening, they all turn and stare at me at once. My eyes fall to my feet and I exit quietly.
The drive home is far too short. I need time alone to think, but I’m sure by now my parents have heard what has gone down, if they aren’t already headed to the pizza parlor themselves. There’s no way to prepare myself for the barrage of questions I know I’ll be hit with upon entering the house.
“We’ve been worried sick! We wanted to go up there but the police told us you were fine and to remain here for you. Are you okay?” My mother gushes over me. Sure, now she pays attention to me, after I’m almost killed. Mom of the year, this one.
“I’m fine, Mom. It was just a couple punks. Silas gave them the money from the register and they fired a warning shot but quickly left,” I lied. The less my parents know, the better. Apparently, Silas thinks the same for me.
“Honey, you know if—” my dad begins, but I quickly interrupt.
“I promise I’m fine. Just need to lay down. I’m still pretty shaken,” I confess.
I remain in my room the rest of the night, and my parents take turns sporadically checking on me. My mother brings soup up to my room, which was an odd choice. I don’t have a cold, I was shot! Or was I? I’m not real sure what happened anymore. Lying in the bed, I mostly stare up at the ceiling trying to make sense of everything I’m sure I saw and sure I felt.
I’m certain Silas did something to hurt me. And I’m equally certain Zeke did something that made me feel better and left my side cold to the touch, even now, hours later. I also know there was a young man there name Micah and he wanted to take me somewhere with him. There were also red flashes and blue flashes. Could that have been from me passing out? I know people say they sometimes see stars. Maybe I see flashes.
I jump like a spastic as my cell phone rings on the end table beside me. It’s probably Simone wanting to know if I’m okay.
“Emma?” Silas almost coos.
“Silas?”
There’s a half laugh. An obvious nervous laugh. Which seems strangely out of character for him. “Yeah, it’s me. I just…wanted to check on you.”
“I’m okay. I…” My voice trails off and there is immediate silence from his end as well. There is more to this than I am being told. The expression on Kutz’s face when the police were about to question me alone gave me cause for doubt. Also the way I was told to lie still and be quiet. It didn’t seem right at all for the circumstances. It’s as if they all had something to hide. “I just haven’t been that scared in a long time,” I confess.
“I was never going to let anything happen to you.”
“What does that mean, Silas? That’s the second time you’ve said that to me. What happened to me? I want to know who Micah is, and I want to know why I’m lying for you. Maybe I passed out for a moment, but I remember things. Things that…that I can’t explain. You have to fill in the gaps.”
Silence on the other end of the phone. I wonder for a moment if I’ve gone too far. I’ve held out asking all this for hours now, and it’s all kind of built up and overflowed at this point. I’m also not on the schedule to work tomorrow, so this may be my only chance to ask him for days.
“Emma, you’re alive. You’re safe. Isn’t that enough?” His voice sounds dangerously desperate. Whatever happened took a toll on him as well. I hadn’t even thought of that. How selfish of me.
“I’m sorry. Are you three okay?”
Another slight laugh, but this one amused. “We’re fine. You don’t need to worry about us.”
His answer only raises more questions. “Eventually I’m going to want the truth,” I tell him.
There is a pause and a sigh into the phone. “Eventually I might just tell you.”
Five
The Truth Shall Set You Free
I didn’t get much sleep last night. All night I had horrible dreams of what had happened. The dreams were so real. I could see Silas’s eyes peering into mine as the gun jammed further in my ribs. In the dream, though, I could hear a man whispering my name, as if beckoning me to follow. I’d turn to the sound and see the man standing there, his hand held out, but I couldn’t see his face. The light glowing around him was so strong I would squint against it.
&n
bsp; Then I’d hear Silas say my name, and my focus would return to him and the gun in my ribs. I’d hear the gun fire and awake with a start, jumping to a seated position in my bed and instinctively grabbing my side. Still cool to the touch like ice. I had to calm myself down and tell myself it was only a dream. But I knew that wasn’t true. Something happened in the restaurant last night; something I couldn’t explain and could barely remember.
* * *
This morning I twist and turn in the mirror, searching for any sign that I was wounded. There’s nothing. Nothing but the icy chill of my side as my hand passes over it for the hundredth time. I pick up my uniform shirt and see the hole in it. There are sharp, hardened burns around it. I stick my finger through it before holding the shirt up to myself in the mirror. The entry of the bullet was right in my side as I had suspected.
I fling the shirt on my bed and quickly get dressed in a simple T-shirt and blue jean shorts for the Bull Dog’s baseball game today. I throw my score sheets and tape recorder into my clunker car before making the ten-minute drive to the ball field. Our school is small, so the baseball field we use is on the outskirts of town, and in my opinion hardly qualifies as a field at all. There are no foul lines, the batter’s box is not outlined, and the bases have been there so long they are a faded orange color from years of heavy rain and dirty cleats.
Still, I get excited to watch the games. The players don’t seem to mind, and the families and friends of the players cheer and yell regardless. There’s a small bench surrounded by a half cage right behind the fence of home plate, and that’s where I sit to keep score and make my comments on the game to write about later. As I arrive today, though, it seems everyone is more focused on me than the game.
Bloodlines Page 3