Sweat poured down Aimee's cheeks even though the temperature had to be near freezing. Her heavy breathing was the only sound of life in this temple of doom. She sat scared stiff. Irrational thoughts kept her pinned to the ground. Then like someone snatched control of Aimee's body, she bolted back on all fours towards the makeshift grave and started digging hysterically. Her hands transformed into shovels, and the adrenaline pumped furiously through her and propelled her arms. In seconds she unearthed the bare back of a body. Aimee couldn’t see the person, but she felt hands with a cord tied around them. A finger wiggled. Instead of freaking again, she continued digging madly. Dirt flew every direction. Aimee brushed across long hair and it tangled through her fingers. It stuck like the spider web she fought to get off earlier. Precious seconds raced by before Aimee tore her fingers loose of the human web. Her heart felt ready to explode, but she didn’t dare stop. She sailed her hands up the torso until she caught the armpits. With every ounce of fortitude Aimee could muster, she tugged the body out of the shallow grave and onto the damp ground. Even though she couldn’t see her, she knew it was a girl.
Never stopping for a second, Aimee slid her hands up to the neck seeking a pulse. Like a blind person, Aimee searched for clues across the person's cold skin. Nothing. Aimee couldn’t keep her fingers still long enough to find what she needed. More precious seconds flew by. “Please, please, God help me!” she begged. Instantly, she steadied her hands and landed on the artery with the tips of two digits pressed firmly over it. “Sweet Jesus, let there be a pulse,” she prayed. The tiniest of pulses, perhaps weakened beyond repair, beat under her forefinger. Aimee yelped excitedly, “Omigod, omigod, omigod!”
Is she breathing?
She touched the victim's face. A strip of duct tape sealed her mouth. Aimee ran her nail up under the edge, peeled back a corner, then ripped it off. A conscious person would have screamed. Nothing. Not even a flinch.
Just as Aimee did with Jack Reynolds, she shifted into automatic and jumped into action to revive her. Fortunately, the girl's mouth was clear. After minutes of rescue breathing, a sound as beautiful as a newborn baby’s cry filled the darkness - a gagging cough, followed by the sound of air being sucked through a battered windpipe, and then finally an agonizing moan. The darkness under the forest canopy made it impossible to see each other, but Aimee felt a flicker of life creep back into the girl. Aimee's prayers had been heard.
Time still remained their enemy. The girl needed help, and she needed it now. Sadly, her only hope was Aimee, who didn’t know where they were, or how to get out of this forsaken wilderness, or worse, how long she had before she would disappear back through time. But perhaps the same someone who heard her pleas before was listening to Aimee's thoughts because the clouds blotting out any shred of light in the sky magically started parting and the light from a full moon spread magnificent shades of metallic gray into the small clearing where they sat.
Aimee looked at the girl. She stared back at Aimee. Her eyes were wide as saucers. Being buried alive chiseled terror deep into her pale face. Black discoloration mottled her throat. Her body, unclothed, felt frigid. She looked young, Aimee's age, eighteen, maybe nineteen at the oldest, too young to face death. Aimee couldn’t fathom what abuse she had experienced, and she shuddered imagining what the monster did to her. At least Aimee was going to make sure she lived to tell her story.
The girl tried speaking, but only a hoarse wheeze leaked out. Aimee touched her shoulder and whispered, “I’m here to help you. Don’t try talking. I don’t know how bad you’re hurt, but I swear to you I’m going to get you out of here. You have to trust me.”
She studied Aimee like a frightened animal. After a few seconds she nodded slowly never once taking her eyes from Aimee's face. The girl had no choice but to believe her.
“Good,” Aimee answered, then without hesitation she rolled the girl over and started to undo the knot in the cord that bound her hands. In the dim light, Aimee continued working and talking rapidly. “I can’t imagine how scared you feel right now. The freakin’ bastard who did this to you thinks you’re dead. Let’s pray he’s long gone. If the clouds cover back up I won’t be able to tell what direction to go to get us out of here. And you need some help, really bad, so if we don’t get going right now we might not make it out of here alive.”
The girl tried to speak again, but only primordial grunts came out. She reached up and touched her throat. Aimee quickly moved down to the knot around her ankles and continued working.
Aimee couldn't imagine the terror of being attacked and buried alive in a shallow grave, and then the impossible experience of some stranger mystically appearing in the middle of nowhere and saving you. Any sane person would be freaking out. Hoping to calm the girl, and keep her calm so Aimee could do her job before she got sent back, she started talking again to the girl.
“I know none of this makes sense to you. Believe me, I don’t understand it myself and I’ve experienced it a bunch of times before, but tomorrow I won’t exist for you. None of this will matter except that you will be alive and that friggin’ monster won’t have gotten away with murder. So trust me. We’ve gotta get moving.”
Aimee noticed goosebumps covered ever inch of the girl's body. Aimee left on the journey dressed in a t-shirt and jeans. A t-shirt had to be better than nothing. She tore the shirt over her head and carefully eased it over the girl's. The girl stuffed her arms into the sleeves, then let it drop strategically down over her. Shoeless and clad in jeans and a bra, Aimee stood up and tried to quickly determine which way they should go to escape the prison of vegetation.
A limb about six feet away appeared split in half. Aimee went over to check the area and spotted what looked like boot prints in some loosely scattered dirt that led into a narrow path. It didn’t appear they had any other options. She decided they would head that direction, and pray it was the way out of here.
Aimee grabbed both of the girl’s hands and pulled. The girl was miserably weak, but her legs supported her as long as she could brace her small frame against Aimee. Aimee tucked her arm around the girl's waist, then they slowly trekked off through the thickly woven trees.
The thin trail wound snake-like through the giant cedars. Monstrous branches hung low blocking the path. They treaded in their bare feet silently over the soft needle droppings. The young girl whimpered with each step, but she kept moving. Without noticing it on the path, Aimee stepped on a fallen limb and it snapped loudly. A small owl nesting overhead startled, and it jutted off in flight, swooping past their faces. The end of its extended wing lightly brushed Aimee's cheek. She screamed and let the girl slip. The girl toppled to the damp ground on all fours.
“It’s all right, it’s all right,” Aimee reassured her. She took a deep breath, then helped the girl up. “We’ve gotta keep going.” The girl nodded. In the dim moonlight Aimee noticed fear in the girl's eyes. Tears trickled down her cheeks. But they kept moving down the path. The two girls struggled to stay focused. Heavy breathing filled the ominous silence while they crept through the thick brush. At last, about five yards down the path, it began to widen, and then another ten yards they broke into a circular clearing. The young girl collapsed too exhausted to go further.
Aimee quickly looked around. A litter barrel and some park signs marked the perimeter. This had to be a trail head. A narrow gravel road headed away from the clearing. Aimee glanced back at the girl. She lay on the ground. The tears that bathed her face glistened in the silvery light. Aimee felt sorry for her, but they really didn’t have time to rest.
“Come on. We can’t stop.” Aimee reached to help her up. The girl abruptly sat up on her own and stared at Aimee, shook her head and folded her arms defensively across her chest.
“Listen, I know you’re scared and tired. So am I, but we have to get you to a hospital, and the only way out of here, that I can tell, is down that road.” Aimee stood over her with one hand extended towards the girl and the other pointing down the dark ro
ad barely lit by the bright, full moon. The girl looked at Aimee for a few seconds, and then slowly turned to all fours and reached for Aimee's hand. Aimee pulled gently until she lifted the girl to her feet. The girl wobbled like a drunk, but Aimee quickly secured her arm around the girl's waist again. Determined to make it out alive, they slowly started down the dark road with the gravel angrily biting their bare feet. After fifty yards, all of a sudden, they exited the walls of trees and stood at a two-lane road. Both silently looked up, then down the deserted road.
“Well,” Aimee began, “I’m obviously not from here. Any idea which direction we should head?” Aimee looked at the girl. She glanced back and forth, and then pointed. “Okay. Let’s go,” Aimee said, and they started down the lane. This time the cold asphalt stung their feet, but it at least felt easier to walk on than the gravel.
Aimee peeked over at her partner. The girl managed a slight smile. Aimee quickly forced an awkward smile. A thick, dark band about four inches wide, an arm’s width, adorned the girl's neck like a black scarf wrapped tightly around it. Aimee imagined, The bastard musta strangled her with his arm. The girl caught Aimee staring and her smile disappeared. Aimee glanced away, but she couldn’t stop wondering about what actually happened to the girl, only she knew the girl wouldn’t tell her, even if she could talk. Aimee tried to think about something else, but it was useless.
Still shaken by the girl's bruising, Aimee walked too upset to talk. Suddenly, after a couple minutes she spotted something hopeful. About ten yards ahead alongside the barren road a sign read: Seattle 15 miles.
“Hey, we’re in Washington!” Aimee exclaimed. The girl stopped and stared at Aimee oddly, then slowly nodded.
Fifteen miles was going to be a long way for a half-dead person to walk. The girl’s strength was waning fast, even with Aimee toting most of her weight. The bitter cold air made each step that much harder for both. It bit at every exposed part. At least their welded bodies provided a tiny scrap of warmth where they touched.
Aimee bleakly mumbled, “We’ve gotta get out of this cold or we’ll both freeze to death.” The girl stopped immediately and stared at Aimee with renewed despair.
“What’s wrong?” Aimee asked, then remembered the girl was unable to speak. “Sorry…don’t try talking. Hey, let’s sit down for a couple minutes over here and huddle together. We’ve gotta try to stay warm.”
The girl could barely stand now. Her legs gave out every few steps. Aimee practically drug her to the side of the road before they both collapsed to the cold, damp dirt. Aimee wrapped her arms around the girl and secured her small frame into her own body, hoping to create some heat between them. They sat shivering in the gray moonlight on the side of the desolate road. Unfortunately, Aimee was beginning to lose hope of getting her to a hospital still alive.
Desperation was all Aimee felt. Stay focused! Stay focused! she kept repeating to herself. Talk, just say anything to stay awake. So she started talking, about anything and nothing at all, to keep them awake. Before long the cold was too much and Aimee's teeth clattered so loudly her words sounded comical. Too tired to continue babbling, Aimee shut up. After a few seconds, the girl’s eyes slowly closed. Aimee was exhausted, too. If they were going to survive, they needed help now. Aimee begged weakly, “Please…please help us. Don’t let me fail again…” Nothing happened. She sighed. Her eyes closed. Instantly her body gave in.
Then out of nowhere someone thumped Aimee right between her eyes. They popped open, and Aimee discovered they were still wound loosely together, but the young girl was no longer awake. Aimee hissed, “Dammit, I’m not gonna friggin’ die here on the side of this friggin’ road in the middle of nowhere in friggin’ Washington, not if I can help it! I wanna go home and see Dylan!” Aimee elbowed the girl. “Hey, wake up!” The girl’s eyes flew open. The night’s terror hung fresh on her face. She looked broken, and Aimee realized the girl had finally given up. "We’ve gotta keep moving!” Aimee ordered harshly. “They sent me here to save you, not die with you on the side of this friggin’ road.” The girl immediately pulled up onto her hands and knees, and then struggled to get upright. Aimee extended her hand towards her. She studied Aimee's face for a few seconds. Slowly she placed her trembling hand into Aimee's. Aimee heaved with all her strength and the girl came up off the ground as light as a tiny child. With her body firmly attached to Aimee's, they shuffled off down the dark road. Each step was more taxing than the previous, but at least they were up, moving...and alive.
All of a sudden, way down the two-lane road a soft, white light broke over the road’s crest. It was heading straight for them. “Thank you,” Aimee whispered as she looked up into the starry sky. This might be it; their only chance to survive. Holding the girl with one arm, Aimee waved her other arm to flag down the approaching vehicle. The driver must have spotted them because the vehicle started to slow. The bright lights blinded Aimee. She couldn’t tell what kind of car it was, but it didn’t really matter. Whoever it was, would be a hero. Aimee glanced at the young girl. She smiled, and for the first time since rescuing her from the grave, the girl looked hopeful.
In slow motion, a truck finally reached them, eased off the road, and into an idle. A sigh of relief escaped Aimee's lips, then a broad smile spread as she peered into the cab at the driver. A middle-aged man with dark hair sat behind the wheel. Aimee tried to open the door, but it was locked. The man threw the truck into Park and continued to stare at Aimee through the passenger window. His eyes moved from Aimee to the girl tethered to Aimee like a Siamese twin. The girl smiled at Aimee, then peeked through the window at their savior.
Instantly, savage grunts gushed out of her. Aimee gawked at her, but the girl's wide eyes stayed frozen on the driver. Her tiny frame shook like a demon possessed her. After a few seconds a barely audible “no” squeezed through her battered windpipe. Aimee looked at the girl for a fraction of a second and knew. She whipped her head back to the man in the truck. His eyes glowed coal black, and an evil smirk slowly erupted.
In a flash, he threw open his door and leaped from his seat to the asphalt. A tire jack hung from his hand as he started around the front corner of the truck towards the girls. Aimee's heart quit. Her lungs quit. Aimee looked at the young girl. Flight or fight? No choice. If they wanted to live they had to run. Aimee bolted the opposite direction with her arm stuck to the girl’s waist. As if she didn’t exist, Aimee drug her with her feet barely touching the ground. Aimee's heart fired and her legs pushed into a run.
Aimee heard him. She didn’t have to glance back to know he was right behind. His boots pounded on the pavement. He didn’t even break into a run to catch up to them. They were easy prey.
Then Aimee heard it - the faint swoosh of the iron jack as he pulled it forcibly through the air until it was over his head. He hesitated only a second, and then his arm started its descent. Her legs kept moving, but she couldn’t let go of the girl to save herself. Aimee closed her eyes and waited for the fatal impact. ...
…The cold asphalt abruptly disappeared from under their feet. Aimee's eyes snapped open. Her arm still tethered the girl to her, but the black tunnel swallowed both of them and trapped them in its horrible entrails. They had escaped the killer, but not death. Aimee's mind swirled with disbelief. Aimee was traveling… but not alone!
How’s this possible?!
Their bodies compressed together like two magnets. Seconds flew by and they gyrated and spun manically. Aimee could only see the girl mouthing words of terror. But she understood their meaning. She had felt the same way too many times herself. The girl was feeling pure, unadulterated fear, the likes of which only the gifted experienced.
“DON’T LET GO!” shrieked Aimee at the top of her lungs. The words disappeared before they reached the girl's ears. Aimee knew the end was coming soon. The tunnel’s bitter cold, more torturous than any of her earthly experiences, for the first time felt like only a minor nuisance. Aimee knew if her heart kept beating she would feel the quenching
warmth from the bright light in less than a second, and the journey would end. Hopefully, they would be back home in Medford…alive.
The magnificent white light suddenly seared Aimee's face. Aimee's body, which was frozen to the young girl, instantly thawed and peeled away from her.
“NOOOO! GRAB MY HAND!!!” Aimee screeched while she reached for the girl. She doggedly snatched the t-shirt, but the force of traveling was too great. The flimsy material slipped through her fingers. For only a fraction of a second the girl looked back at Aimee. Her distorted face was illuminated by the bright light. She knew. She understood her fate. Her end was here. Time stood still for another second while Aimee stared deep into her frightened eyes and then, like a mirage, the girl evaporated into the emptiness. She was gone. And Aimee returned alone, screaming pathetically.
“NOOOOO!!!” continued to roar endlessly from her mouth. She arrived unscathed, but drenched in sweat lying on her back next to the toilet, barefoot and dressed only in jeans and a bra. Someone pounded fiercely on the other side of the bathroom door. It took her only a second to recognize the voice.
“AIMEE!!! AIMEE!!!” he kept screaming, and then before she could move, the door busted open and in fell Dylan. He took one look at Aimee's limp body sprawled on the bathroom floor, dropped to his knees, and swooped her up in his arms. He cradled her face to his hard chest. His heart thumped furiously through his shirt.
The Weird Travels of Aimee Schmidt: The Curse of the Gifted Page 30