Like in trance, I moved forward, while reaching for the cell phone in my back pocket as I wanted to dial the ambulance, but damn me, I didn’t know the number. Breath, I reminded me. Don’t hyperventilate. Of course, I knew the number, but right then everything was blank. Breath, Izzy. 911. That’s it. I dialled the number in rush sequence. The call was answered on the second tone.
“911, what’s your emergency?”
“That’s Elizabeth Parker, I’m at Neapon Highway a mile off the Caltex petrol station. There is an accident.”
“Anyone injured, Elizabeth.”
“I believe they’re dead.” I was all panic again, once I spoke the horrible words.
“Were you involved in the accident? Are you injured?”
My voice was rising in climax. “No, not me. I’m okay, I think, it’s them, they’re dead.”
“Calm down, Elizabeth, ambulance and fire services are on their way.” I walked around the wreckage, trying to avoid another look at the pickup driver. I’d never seen a dead body before… and never wanted to see one again. Once more, Hollywood had gotten it all wrong. This was just awful, I was close crying. My glance wandered to the SUV instead. The driver was cramped like a puppet into her seat, face punched into the steering. The bloody airbag didn’t go off.
“Elizabeth, are you still with me?”
“Elizabeth?”
“Yes”, I managed to get out.
“My name is Susan, but you can call me Sue. Can you do something for me Elizabeth?”
“What?”
“The ambulance is on its way and will be there in five minutes. How many casualties can you make out?”
“Two, the drivers. I believe they’re dead.” My voice breaks in between tears. There is a sobbing.
“Are you sure?”
“There is so much blood.” I shouted. More sobs
“Calm down. We get through this together.”
“Is it safe for you to get closer to the side of the accident? Any of the cars burning?”
“No, I can’t see any flames.” In Hollywood the cars would have already exploded. Why did Hollywood have to stuff up everything?
“Can you get closer and confirm if the drivers are dead?” Another sob, but now I recognised it’s not me. I walked around the car and on the other side of the road sat a little boy, maybe five years of age. He bled from a wound above his eyebrow and held his head in between his palms, obviously in pain. Somehow he must have climbed out of the wreckage and had crawled into safety.
“One survivor”, I screamed into the cell phone.
“Can you repeat, please?”
“A boy, he’s injured, but alive.” It only took me seconds to get to him. I knelt down and looked him straight in the eyes, while the cell phone slipped out of my lifeless hands. “Are you alright, little one?”
He nodded. “My mum is in the car, I want my mum?”
“Your mum can’t come right now, but help is on the way.” It sounded like the lie it was. Yes, help was on the way, but for his mother any help was too late. How should I tell that to a five-year-old?
“I need my mum!”
“I know.” I wanted to sound soothing, but there was still too much shock and panic in me. “Let’s have a look at your head.” The wound looked terrible. In the first aid course they’d told me head wounds bleed worst of all… well, they didn’t play down that part. Blood had been floating over his entire right face and onto his shirt. He looked so pale. I got off my shirt and pressed it against the wound to stop the bleeding. He was so cold, almost icy, his lips turned blue. Shock? Calm him down, Izzy.
“While we’re waiting for your mother, maybe you let me help you.”
“You can’t”, he cried and tried to stand up, but I pushed him firm back on his bum. “Don’t move, you’re injured and lost a lot of blood.” Damn me, I shouldn’t have said this. Sure enough he’s panicking now. To my surprise, he wasn’t more panicking than before. Maybe there is no superlative of panic.
“I need my mum.”
“I know.”
“Only mum can protect me.”
“You’re safe now. I’m Izzy and what’s your name?”
“Timmy, but I need my mum. She’ll protect me.”
“You’re safe, Timmy”, I repeated and tousled him through his hair.
He shook his head vigorously. “You don’t understand. There is this man.”
“Which man?” I only hoped he didn’t mean the other driver.
“The man in the dark cloak. I’m so afraid of him. He’s looking for me.”
My face must have crumbled in confusion or disbelief. I turned around, but the scene was the same. “There is no man.”
He pointed straight with his index finger. “He’s on the other side of the street, can’t you see him?”
I followed with my glance, but couldn’t make out anything. Then I shook my head. “You’re safe, Timmy. I protect you.” Gosh, how wrong can Hollywood get things? A boy’s fantasy about a man in a dark cloak wasn’t in any of the TV accident shows I’d been seeing so far.
Sirens… “Help is coming, Timmy.” I sat down next to him and took him into a protective embrace. “They’re here any second now.”
“Don’t leave me.”
“I won’t”
“He’s not coming over as long as you’re here.”
A shower is running down my spine. “Do you recognise his face?” It was imperative Timmy remained awake and keeping his mind busy might help with that.
“No, no face, he wears a cape over his head. I’m so afraid of him.”
“Don’t be Timmy, all will be fine. The ambulance is coming, I can see them already. Wait here.”
“Don’t!”
“I’m right back; I’m not leaving the scene, promised.”
I stood up and walked forwards while waving at the approaching ambulance. The van came to a halt forty feet away from me and I ran over to the driver. The three paramedics were out of the van even before I arrived. One had a moustache so heavily grown I could hardly make out his lips, another mid-thirty and bald-headed, the third was barely older than me.
“Quick, there is a boy, he has a head wound”, my voice somersaulted. “He lost plenty of blood, but I managed to keep him conscious. His name is Timmy”
“Bob, quickly”, the one with the moustache called over his shoulder to the bald-head and dashed forward, bypassing me, heading for the car, my car. Bob was overtaking him halfway.
“Hey, that’s mine, take a look at Timmy!” He didn’t hear or ignored me, just continued his way. “You don’t understand, Timmy is over there “, I tried it again. “Have a look at Timmy first. He’s over there”, I turned and pointed… at the spot where Timmy should have been, but now was nothing, except my shirt. “He was there, just seconds ago.”
Then, Bob pulled the door of my car wide-open. “This one is still alive.”
“Miss?”
Something pulled at my shoulder. I blinked once, twice, the scene in front of me got blurry, and when my vision became sharp again, I was back in my car.
“Miss?” It was Bob. “Are you alright, anything hurt?”
“N… no”, I tripped over my tongue and startled up. “Timmy”, I shouted. Take care of Timmy!”
“Who?”
“The boy I was with. I left him at the side of the road.
Bob exchanged a glance with the one with the moustache. “Concussion? What do you think, Shaun?”
“Probably.”
“I’m fine”, I yelled at them. “Timmy needs help, not me.”
“Shaun?” his colleague called over from the SUV. “Give me a hand. I found a boy.”
I veered around in my seat, but noticed too late that for whatever reason I had a seatbelt on.
“Miss, keep still. You might suffer from other injuries.”
Shaun was already on his way, just Bob stayed with me.
The next couple of minutes passed all in a blur. Desperate my glance wandered fo
rth and back looking for Timmy, but nothing. Another ambulance, the fire brigade and the police arrived.
“Bob, come over here, it’s a young boy”, Shaun called.
I undid my seatbelt and shot out of the car. Within seconds I’d crossed the distance and just arrived in time, when the paramedics pulled a lifeless body out of the wreckage. My mouth opened wide, my knees gave way and I plummeted to the asphalt. I would have recognised that little boy with his bleeding head everywhere. That was Timmy! My Timmy. How did he sneak back into the car?
“He’s gone”, one said.
No, no, no, that isn’t possible. I was just talking to him. There, I pointed to the spot where I’d left him with my bloodstained T-shirt, only now realising, I was wearing it again and to my horror, the blood was gone as if it never had stained my cloth.
“Are you ok, Miss?” Bob asked, concern written all over his face.
I shook my head. One of the paramedics built up in front of me and tried to help me up, but my focus was on what was on the other side of the road, a man in a hooded robe the colour of darkest coal.
In the next moment, the light went off and I was engulfed by darkness.
Chapter IV
Confusion
My name is Elizabeth Parker, I’m sixteen years old, I’m living at 1269 Wilsons Avenue, my parents are Sam and Jenny Parker, I have a younger sister, her name is Annabelle, my best friend is Victoria but everyone calls her Vicky, my boyfriend is Jake Buchannan, the best looking boy in school. And two days ago, my life had gone to the dogs.
I’d read somewhere, it’s important to repeat your personal details if in distress. Losing your mind classified as such. I didn’t pass out for long, barely a minute or two. Nevertheless, I’d been brought into hospital and had to wait until my hysterical mother arrived. After a few routine checkups I’d been announced perfectly healthy, but traumatised and in shock. Well, the doctors must have forgotten scared to the point of completely freaking out. Dad had arrived at the hospital too; he’d even been more hysterical than mom, which didn’t help at all. Anyway, I’d received a prescription for some very strong sleeping pills and was sent straight to bed after we had arrived back home. The pills had done their wonder and I’d had twelve hours of uninterrupted peaceful sleep. Annabelle must have crafted me a dreamcatcher and put it over my bed. She’d denied it, but I knew she’d worked on one in school the other day.
Whatever, as soon as life had me back, the memory of the previous day had returned as well. By now, mom had already talked to Vicky and also to Jake. So they were briefed, not the full story. Of course, dad didn’t let my god of a boyfriend somewhere near me.
The next day I felt already better, but mom let me stay home anyway. I almost believed the explanation of the doctor about post-traumatic stress that had caused some hallucinations. They did a drug test, nevertheless. Which was proven negative, but I could have told them that already back then.
Anyway, strolling through the house, that was when I found the newspaper with the headline Tragic Accident.
Mother Eileen Fairfolk (33) killed together with her son Timmy (5) after a horrible car crash on Highway 72... mother and son believed to be dead instantly after collision.
Logic dictated, there was no way I could have known the boy’s name, if I hadn’t been spoken with him. Only, that I’ve never seen him in my life before. Despite, mom wanting me to believe, we’d met the Fairfolks at the supermarket a year ago and we’d a conversation about their Europe trip. Really?
I called Vicky the same day…
“Izzy, how often do I have to tell you, only because we can’t think of a plausible answer right now, doesn’t mean there is none?”
“Vic, I know it sounds crazy, but the police should know about the man. If there is such a monster on the loose—”
“Really, listen to yourself! They’ll lock you up indefinitely, if you tell them about a cultist of Satan, who prearranged the accident to do what, kill the survivors?”
“If it’s true, who cares?”
“By the time they’ll let you out of psychiatric care Jake is married to another girl and has already three kids with her. I just say Lucy Watson.”
Yeah, Lucy Watson was all over my god of a boyfriend, but she also had the IQ of a frog.
“So what do you think happened?”
“Isn’t that obvious? You were unconscious and your mind was playing tricks on you. Most likely the paramedics talked about the boy they found in the car and your fantasy was forming its own story.”
“But how do you explain that I knew the boy’s name before the newspaper article?”
“Maybe the boy was still conscious when they found him, mumbled his name and succumbed soon after.”
“Nice try, but the newspaper said, he was dead in an instant.”
“A lie. They have to write this. Should they write, he suffered for another fifteen minutes? Think about the boy’s family — not what you wanna hear if you’re the father mourning your dead wife and son.”
“And the man? I saw him. Exactly how Timmy had described him.”
“I googled it. Your brain was looking for the most obvious solution, a scapegoat, someone you could blame, even if it was only a freaking accident. Bad luck. You were not yourself at this time, how could you? You thought you saw something, which wasn’t there.”
By Thursday I believed it as well. The thought of Lucy Watson making out with my boyfriend helped. Maybe I’d just seen too many horror movies. Jake helped me to get over it as well. Mom let him in and I talked him through.
“Was he looking like the imperator?” Jake asked while we were sprawled upon my bed, which actually was too small for him and his feet lurked over the edge.
“Remember, I didn’t watch Star Wars”, I answered, annoyance played into my voice and shifted my head over his chest, listening to his heartbeat, his left hand moving slowly up and down my back.
With his free hand, he fumbled over his smartphone and soon held me a picture of an old fool in black robe under my nose, pretty much reminding me of Freddy Krueger.
“I couldn’t see his face.”
“So it could have been a woman?”
“No, Timmy said a man.”
“So it might have been the imperator. The empire is striking back. We should contact the Jedi order.”
I propped onto my elbow and gazed at him seriously. “Really? I tell you about a potential mass-murderer being out there and all you think is Star Wars?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “The Imperator Returns from the Ashes, it’s a better header for the Beacon Hills Herald than Axe Lunatic on the Loose.”
“Are you even listening to me? I never said anything about an axe.” I climbed over him and out of the bed, but he pulled me back and kissed my neck up to my ear. I felt hot all over.
“Most important”, he whispered into my ear, “You’re safe. I wouldn’t know what I’ve done if I would have lost you on that highway.”
How could you be angry with someone that cute? I surrendered unwillingly and soon we were in deep embrace and exchanged wild kisses, snogging until my lip muscles ached. Certainly, we would have entered to more physical involvement, if my father wouldn’t have entered the room, which ruined the moment. He made sure, my god of a boyfriend wasn’t getting anywhere near me again and squeezed between us on the bed, talking about… god I had no idea, what fathers talk about I guess.
Jake stayed for dinner, but left immediately afterwards. Dad’s fault. I just hoped he was not stopping at Lucy’s place on his way home. Anyway, if Vicky was right, all would change after next week anyway.
Next day, I was allowed back to school. Mom thought returning me back to routine would be helpful. It was Friday and the last day of school before next week’s camping trip and everybody was speaking about nothing else. Five days without our parents in a national park, camping near a romantic lake. Of course, there was a curriculum, but from what the previous class was saying, it’s as close to holidays as
it could get: Sunbathing, swimming, games, etc. Most of the class was all about planning the trip, what we were allowed to bring with us and what not. No alcohol, no cigarettes or drugs… hey, only that John, Jake and Dean were planning to have secret compartments for Havana cigars and whiskey, even hiding vodka in the water flask.
Only Mr Smith didn’t understand the necessities for good planning and persisted on another reading from Romeo and Juliet. Lucky me, my near death experience earned me some credit and he picked Tatiana as Juliet, but held on to Dimitri as Romeo. Which worked out far too well for my taste. The two behaved as if the rest of the class didn’t exist. Tatiana managed with only an occasional glance on the script, while Dimitri yet again, recited the text without even opening the book. Tatiana, the girl really had nerves, she was flirting with her Romeo, certainly there was no need for that many pushes of a strand back behind her ear. “That’s soft porn”, Vicky commented, when Tatiana wetted her lips. The tension between them was nearly exploding. What had happened between Jake and me the other night was nothing in comparison, child’s play. He even caressed her cheek and she responded by closing her eyes and sighed in excitement. I wanted to be her so badly. Izzy, what are you thinking about? He’s a freak and she a nutcase. Or the other way around. Whatever, Dimitri was everything else than a girl’s dream. His dark eyes had something unsettling, even frightening. His short hair reminded more of a cancer patient and there were no abs. My god of a boyfriend was ten-thousand times the dream of a girl. Nevertheless, what the two had, I wanted to have too. Badly. All I knew, I felt one hundred degrees hot and my face must have been crimson again. When he leaned in for a kiss, my heart missed a beat and Mr Smith came just in time to the rescue, stepped in between the two and called the show off. The bell finished the class a minute later and I stormed out, in need of a cold shower.
Princess of Apocalypse Page 4