Fatal

by S. T. Hill

  Slowly, I pushed myself to my feet. Wet clumps of snow plopped down at my feet, falling from my body. I leaned against a nearby tree trunk as my legs turned to rubber.

  This new knowledge shocked every single part of me to numbness. It was all so bad I could hardly believe it. It couldn't be a dream, though. It hurt too much for that.

  "Adam..."

  My thoughts flashed back to the night of the trap, to the night of my betrayal. It hurt to recall them, but I broke down that wall I'd built and threw myself into those memories.

  I remembered Vick, standing by Adam's still form, pleading with me to run before his family arrived to help him cart Adam away. I pushed deeper, there was something else.

  I relived that moment when Vick pulled the needle out of its pouch and pumped its contents into Adam's thigh. I thought of my own reaction, of what I'd said.

  I'd asked if Adam was dead. Vick told me that he wasn't. He was unconscious, being readied to take to some ceremony where Vick would have to deliver the final, killing blow himself as the last gruesome initiation into his family's line of work.

  It had only been a few days. Maybe Adam was still alive.

  Maybe there was still time to save him.

  Chapter 36

  On unsteady legs, I lurched away from the frat house and the two murderers inside it. I wanted so badly to deal with them right now, but I knew I couldn't.

  They would still be there tomorrow. Adam might not be. For all I knew, he could be dead already. I didn't know what this ceremony entailed, how long it was, where it was going to be. Anything at all, really, aside from the fact that Vick would be the one performing it.

  Vick, whose doubt about Adam had been written across his face that night.

  I stepped over roots and dead branches, bracing myself against tree trunks that scraped my hands with their rough bark. Now that I was in a hurry to get out of there, it felt like it took forever.

  Finally, panting, my lungs and throat burning, I made it back to the sidewalk. A guy and a girl holding hands gave me a look as I brushed a few dead branches off myself.

  Everything seemed to be against me. I shoved my hand down my pocket, trying to dislodge my cell. All the moisture from lying in the snow made the cloth damp and clingy.

  I walked down the path away from the frat house, my eyes scanning the dorms, the trees, the big lecture halls.

  Finally, I freed my cell from my pocket. My fingers were so numb I had trouble unlocking it and navigating to the contacts. An incredible relief washed through me when I saw that I hadn't deleted Vick's number in the aftermath of the trap.

  He'd told me to forget about him, about all that. I'd tried so hard to do just that, but you can't let go of things that easily. Especially when you know, deep down, that what you did was wrong.

  I stopped for a moment to cough before hitting the call button. The air was so dry here.

  I put the phone against my ear, listening to it ring. Once, twice, three times. After the fourth, I heard that click of an answer.

  I rushed right away into the whole thing.

  "Vick! You have to stop! Don't let anything happen to Adam, we were wrong, it wasn't him. It was..."

  There was another voice trying to talk over me. I stopped. I managed to catch the last few words.

  "...Please leave your message after the tone."

  Voicemail. I got his god damn voicemail. The tone sounded, and I stared dumbly at the phone for a few seconds before pressing it back to my face.

  "Vick, call me when you get this. It's Steph. We were wrong about Adam."

  I ended the call. It felt like too little, too late. Vick didn't even really have any good reason to believe me, either. He saw the state I was in when the trap went down. He could put this down to sudden guilt and remorse. Maybe he'd even think he was doing me a favor but not calling me back, by keeping me out of the whole thing.

  According to my phone, I had another hour before my next class. Just thirty minutes ago, I thought I'd be spending that time grabbing a bite and catching up on reading.

  Now I knew I'd be spending the next while waiting for Vick to call back, hoping that he hadn't gone through with the ceremony yet.

  Chapter 37

  Despite all that had happened, I found myself in the exact same situation as before. I sat on my bed, my phone in my lap. The clock said it was a few minutes shy of seven in the evening. I'd missed my second lecture of the day, as well as tutorial.

  There was no way I was leaving my phone unattended. If Vick called back I had to talk to him straight away.

  I'd tried calling him back four or five times. After the third try, I didn't even leave a message anymore.

  All I could think about was that he was going through with it right now. In my mind, I pictured some wickedly curved knife being handed to him from some ornate, gold-frilled pillow. The blade was silver, of course (what else killed a werewolf?).

  Vick wore a robe, his face shrouded in shadow from the large hood. Because what kind of secret ceremony like that didn't have people wearing robes, right?

  Adam would by tied up or chained down to some table, forced to watch as Vick came up beside him, hoisting that cruel blade high into the air, ready to plunge right into his heart.

  Hey, I didn't say anything about this fantasy being accurate at all.

  What hurt the most, though, was the feeling like I was completely unable to do anything to help.

  It was like when mom first got her diagnosis. She was the one with cancer. I was the one who spent all that time locked away in my bedroom, feeling useless. She had to coax me out of there, telling me that just being with her and trying to keep happy helped her to cope so much.

  There was no one to save me from myself this time, however.

  However, I'd come so far since then. I was different, wasn't I? More grown up. I mean, I was at school finally, on my way to becoming whatever it was I was supposed to be.

  I was my own person, able to take action by myself. I hit the lock button on my phone, bringing up the screen. Still no message.

  I'd been so worried about missing a call or text from him that I didn't bother with lunch or supper. Missing meals was getting to be quite the bad habit. I swear I'd lost five pounds or so since all this started.

  Fear and worry managed to fill my stomach enough so that it didn't growl and complain at me constantly.

  I checked my phone again, just in case. The ringer was up as loud as it would go, and the buzzer, too. Still, it paid to be cautious.

  Just sitting there waiting for someone to help me was driving me crazy. Even though it was dark out already, I hadn't bothered closing my curtains. The snow was coming down harder now, and thicker. Though that could have just been my imagination.

  The first day of real snow for me, and I was spending it just sitting here.

  There had to be something I could do.

  I forced myself to make a list in my mind. Okay, I couldn't do anything about Adam until Vick got back to me. I didn't know where he was, or when anything was happening. All I had was his cell number, and I'd already left a bunch of messages. If he looked at his phone, he'd definitely know I contacted him.

  What did that leave me?

  It left me Eric and Joseph. I squeezed my phone at the mere thought of them, my muscles tensing and a anger trying to burn a hole in the bottom of my heart.

  I couldn't confront them, though. Not physically, at least. Every time I took a shower I was reminded of that, when I saw the little scar on my thigh that Joseph left me as a parting gift when he tried so clumsily to pull my panties down that night.

  In my anger while I watched them at the frat house, I'd discounted calling the cops. But should I?

  It was worth a chance. And it was just about the only thing I could do. And I had to do something otherwise I'd end up tearing my hair out.

  I pushed myself off the bed, my thighs stiff and sore from sitting still so long. Wow, it really was started to come down outside. Was
this a blizzard? I didn't have the time to really think about it.

  In my desk, there was a sheet of paper that came from my orientation pack. On this sheet was written a variety of numbers. A pizza place in town, security services on the campus, that type of thing.

  The number I was most interested in was labeled "Hazelglen Police Dept. Non-Emergency Line." I started keying it into my cell, but stopped when it came time to start the call.

  If Eric's dad was an influential as Jim said, who knew how deeply he had the cops in his pocket? God, it felt like I was in some bad mobster flick as I weighed my options.

  If he had lined their pockets with bribe money or whatever, they'd be looking out for his best interests. And the interests of his son, Eric.

  Though I doubted Eric had ever been implicated in murder, before. They couldn't just dust that under the rug, could they?

  It was worth a shot.

  Still, to cover myself, I knew I couldn't call from my phone. They'd be able to find out who made the call, then.

  There was a payphone down in my dorm lobby. Then again, there was a whole bank of them at the student center. Yeah, I'd go there and do it.

  I pulled on my boots and coat, even wrapping a navy scarf so dark it was almost black around my neck. It looked like hell had frozen over out there.

  It felt good to have some sort of purpose, to feel like I actually had the ability to do something to move everything in the right direction, no matter how small that movement was.

  The snow had piled high in a drift against the main doors. Peering out through the cold glass, the walkway down from my building was just a long depression in the snow. I couldn't even see the soccer pitch from here.

  I thought I should turn back, but my pride refused, and my sanity. If I turned back, I'd be stuck in my room at Vick's mercy, waiting for his call. I was through waiting. It was my turn to do something.

  I tried to open the door. It wouldn't move.

  "Damn it," I said.

  Really? I'd screwed up my courage like that (without alcoholic help!) had taken the time to dress for the weather, had even battled down my better judgment, and now I was going to be stopped by a door?

  "Come on, open up. Just a bit. Yeah..." I said, putting my shoulder against the glass and shoving.

  The cold bled through from outside, soaking into my coat, my shirt, and the flesh beneath. I pushed harder. Sometimes, not often, I wished I was a boy. Mostly just because guys were always so much stronger. I was sure Vick would have no trouble clearing a bit of snow away from the front of the door.

  "Hah!" I said, pushing that strange wish back down.

  The door started to slide against the pile of white stuff on the other side of it. A hairline crack opened in the jam.

  A thin sheet of winter air blew in through the small opening. When it touched me, I almost recoiled back. It was cold. Damn cold! Colder than when I had to search around in the walk-in freezer at the diner in Pasadena for the beef patties cold.

  As I forced the opening wider, snow starter blowing in. The big, fat flakes touched down on the floor or my boots and melted almost instantly, making little puddles all over the place.

  When that shoulder got too sore to push, I turned and put the other one to the glass. My breathing had left a cloud of condensation on the window that grew with every bit of air that puffed out from my lips.

  Finally, I got the gap maybe a bit less than a foot wide. When I stuck my head out to get a look, my face got covered with snow right away. It melted again, sending cold trickles down under all my carefully chosen winter gear.

  Normally, I would have been more than thin enough to fit through that opening. But my bulky coat and the scarf wound around my neck made it difficult. A small drift of snow was trying to push its way into the dorm even as I tried to leave.

  "Oh!" I said as I popped out of the space, falling into the snow bank just outside.

  Chapter 38

  I pushed myself to my feet and pulled my hood up. The snow seemed to come right down into my face, and I had to shield my eyes with one gloved hand as though it were too bright out and I'd forgotten my sunglasses.

  The door to my dorm shut behind me, the snowdrift piling higher against it. Getting back inside was going to be an even bigger pain in the ass than getting out.

  I looked up, wondering if I could see my window from here. Part of me wanted to be back up there, my blanket thrown over my shoulders as I poured over an outline for my English essay.

  Once again, it was a life I had to put behind me for now. Literally, even. I turned my back to the dorm and started trudging through the snow in the direction of the student center.

  And trudging was the right word for it. The snow came up almost to the top of my boots in most places, and the wind had piled it much higher in others. It took two or three times as much energy to take a step as it normally did, and I found myself panting with the dorm still in sight behind me.

  Still, I trudged on. My legs burned with the effort after a while. On my left I thought I saw a large depression in the snow that was probably the soccer pitch. On my right was the row of white-blanketed trees and brush. It was amazing how quickly things could change.

  Had I already passed over that chalk square on the sidewalk where I'd led Adam that night?

  I tried not to dwell on it, instead just focusing on moving forward. After a few minutes I pulled a fold of my scarf up over my mouth and nose, wishing that I had a pair of ski goggles or something.

  A big vehicle roared by on the road ahead, a blue light flashing through the snowflakes threatening to choke the air. A plow, I realized. When I got over to that road, I moved off what I figured was the sidewalk onto the long divot left by snowplow.

  When I looked back in the direction of my dorm, I couldn't see it anymore. The entire world was white. It seemed like old man winter had been saving up big-time for this storm. No snow for so long, and then all of a sudden dumping an entire thick blanket of the stuff down on us.

  I left thinking about how I was going to make the trip back to my room until after I'd made my call.

  The massive student center which I'd been in awe of when I first came to Redeemer was now a huge mound of snow. Still, lights burned from its many windows. As I watched, some unfortunate janitor came out with one of those wide shovels in an attempt to keep the main path to the front doors clear.

  "Try not to spend too long here, unless you're planning on staying the night!" he said to me.

  It took me a second to realize he was yelling. I hadn't thought the storm was that loud. But it was. The wind whistled through the trees and around the buildings. The snowplows doing their best to clear the roads around campus strained to push heavy mounds of the stuff away.

  Thankfully, with the janitor's cleaning, I didn't have to fight to get into the student center. Compared to what was going on just on the other side of the door behind me, it was dead quiet in there.

  I could hear the air rushing in and out between my lips (which were coincidentally freeze-dried and cracked now). Drops of water dripped down from my coat and my boots into puddles at my feet.

  And somehow, despite my hood, my hair was full of the fluffy white stuff. I pulled that hood down and shook my head like a dog after a bag, spraying half-melted hunks of snow everywhere around me.

  I sniffed as my nose threatened to plug itself. The warmth coming down out of the ducts was nice, though. They always had the air blowing down right in front of the doors for whatever reason, and I wanted to just stand there for a bit and enjoy it.

  But the bank of payphones along the far wall beckoned to me.

  My big, heavy snow boots clomped awkwardly on the floor as I walked over to the one on the very end. There were eight in this bank, all black with stainless keys and a little screen telling me to insert coins or my credit card to start a call. There were little plastic dividers between each phone as a nod to privacy, but as I was the only one in this part of the building at the moment (ever
yone else was smart enough to stay inside, it seemed) that didn't really matter.

  Panic flashed through my as I patted my pockets and thought I'd left my wallet behind. I dreaded having to make the walk back to my dorm. I didn't want to have to make multiple trips!

  "Stupid..." I said, realizing that my coat hung pretty low, hiding and smoothing out the little bulge my wallet made in my pocket.

  It felt good to unzip it, then. While my face had been cold, I'd actually begun to sweat under all those layers.

  So I dug out my wallet and my cell. I popped a couple quarters into the phone, and the screen told me to pick up the receiver and enter my number. I used the non-emergency number I'd saved in my cell.

  I licked my dried, cracked lips as the line rang. The janitor chose that moment to come in from outside, kicking the doorframe to dislodge big clods of snow from the big black boot he wore. He huffed, wiping at his brow, swearing under his breath.

  "Hazelglen police department. Officer Kelly speaking."

  It was a woman's voice. That was comforting, for some reason. I always had found it easier to talk with women than men over the phone. Especially men with deep voices. There was just something too authoritarian about it.

  "Hello?" Kelly said.

  "What? Oh. Hi..."

  My tongue and my brain couldn't seem to cooperate with one another now that I was actually enacting my plan. It just felt like one of those unreal things that shouldn't be happening. Like I'd done something I shouldn't, but now had to get through anyway.

  "How can I help, miss...?" Kelly said, clearly fishing for me to give my name.

  "I have information about Jenn McClaughlin," I said.

  "We're always happy receiving tips and information from the public. What's your name?"

  "I know who did it," I said, irritation building in me at her insistence that I say who I was, "It was Eric Putnam. He did it with Joseph..."

  I didn't know Joseph's last name. Presumably he had one; it had just never come up. Did it really matter, though? I'm sure the cops could find out who he was with ease.