Dark Visions Page 5

Indecision wasn't an option.

  The two men had pulled to a stop by the sidewalk fifteen feet from the girl and her boyfriend.

  Sarah felt her call to duty. Somehow, she'd been chosen. She was being given these messages for a reason. She had no idea what the reason was. What she did know was she could do something about it.

  She made it to the other side of Birk just as the two men came out of their car. They had parked by the curb. The engine was still on. Sarah assumed this was to get out of the area fast.

  She looked back at the victim. The girl was too far away.

  They'd get there first.

  She couldn't run and draw attention to herself. She was lost. What could she do now?

  She had failed.

  She hustled anyway, staying close to the wall of the building she was passing. She had to think of something. All hope wasn't lost as long as she was there and the girl hadn't been taken.

  Both men reached into their inner suit jacket pockets in unison. It looked rehearsed. Everything seemed to slow down. The timing was perfect. The girl and her boyfriend had stepped away from a small crowd and were by themselves for a moment standing in front of the theatre doors. Sarah was close enough to hear the two men from the Chrysler say they were police officers.

  She could see both men were showing badges of some sort.

  There was nothing she could do.

  So she decided to get rid of their getaway car.

  While they were busy, she turned and headed towards their idling vehicle. Maybe the best thing would be to snatch their car keys.

  She looked down at her legs; they felt weak with the power of the adrenaline making them shaky.

  She glanced sideways when she was halfway across the street.

  The man she recognized from six months ago looked right at her.

  Their eyes locked.

  Her feet faltered a little. Oh, shit. Okay, run, grab the keys.

  Before she turned away, she saw him slap his partner's arm. Both men were watching her now.

  She bolted. One look over her shoulder told her everything.

  It was ruined.

  She would never get to the car, reach in, turn and pull the keys out and escape in time. No way. He'd be on her before she got her hands on the keys.

  She was only a dozen feet from the car. Footsteps pounded hard and fast behind her. They sounded close. Even if she ran up the street, they'd still catch her. His touch was coming at any moment. She didn't waste any energy to look behind her again.

  The only thing left was the car.

  She had to take the car.

  In the second it took her to think it, she was diving into the front seat. She grabbed the driver's side door and pulled hard. Her pursuer stuck his hand in to keep the door open. His fingers yanked out at the last second before Sarah closed and locked it.

  Gasps of air came from her mouth. She was an okay driver, but not good yet. The guy was banging on the door's window with one hand. She looked up at him. His other hand was pulling keys out of his pocket.

  Spare keys.

  Sarah grabbed the stick beside her leg and tried to push the car into drive.

  It wouldn't move. Then her index finger felt a button on the underside of the stick. She put her foot on the brake, depressed the button and dropped the car into drive.

  The door's clicked. They were unlocked.

  She didn't know when she started to scream. It was just coming out of her mouth.

  Everything was going wrong. It never happens like this.

  The driver's side door pulled away from her arm.

  He was in.

  She threw her leg at the accelerator. When she looked through the windshield she saw the man's partner standing in front of the car.

  "Get back here, you bitch!"

  The man's hand found a small batch of hair sticking out from under the bandanna as the car thrust forward. Of all things to pull. She would've normally laughed at the guy for helping her along with what she'd started years ago, but that many hairs at once, stung hard. Her eyes watered up.

  The sudden pain from the loss of hair caused her to wince and reach a hand back to the injury in reflex.

  That left one hand on the steering wheel. Not enough to complete a small turn. She saw the corner of the car clip the guy who'd been standing in front.

  His head bounced against the hood like a basketball. Then he disappeared from Sarah's view. She hit the brake pedal and stopped the car.

  She couldn't quell the shaking. A part of her reasoned she would be safe now. No one would try to hurt her with all these witnesses.

  She could feel something dripping on her shoulder. She pulled her hand away from her head. It was covered in blood from where the hair was missing.

  The guy she'd recognized walked past the open driver's side door. His interest in her died off for the moment. His face was a mask of shock like he was dreaming in silence.

  Sarah eased herself out of the car. People had stopped their vehicles. Pedestrians were coming off the sidewalks. Someone yelled for someone else to call an ambulance.

  Sarah came around to the front of the car, still holding her head where her hair had come out. Her vision was blurred by the tears the pain was causing.

  The man she hit was on the ground. His eyes were open wide. As far as Sarah could tell, he was dead.

  She'd killed him. Her stomach started to rebel. She felt faint.

  A man was now dead because of her actions.

  She doubled over, nausea coursing through her.

  A dead man. She was supposed to help people, not kill them.

  She did it.

  From the corner of her eye she saw someone materialize next to her. She turned to look at him.

  He was holding a gun.

  "Who are you?" he asked.

  Sarah couldn't answer. She wondered if her legs could hold her any longer. She leaned on the car.

  "Where did you come from? Why did you show up again? Who the fuck are you?" He was shouting now.

  He walked around his partner's body, knelt down and felt for a pulse, the whole time keeping his gun trained on Sarah.

  "Whoever you are, you will die for killing my brother. You just made Heaven's most wanted list."

  He stood up and stepped closer. "I wonder what you would look like with half your face missing."

  His eyes were wide, swishing back and forth in their sockets.

  "My gun is loaded with hollowed out bullets, which causes the exit wound to be a gaping hole. A small entry in your cheek, half your brains on the street. Now, move, get in the car before these crowds get bigger."

  Sarah couldn't move. Her feet felt rooted to the ground. She wondered if this was what it felt like when shock set in.

  The gun was a foot from her face. It moved a little to the right and discharged. The loud report made her jump and blink. The 'whoosh' where the air was torn to allow the bullet passage rang true in her ear. She could faintly hear people screaming. Someone ran past her so close they bumped her arm.

  The world had gone crazy.

  "I won't waste another bullet. Talk to God about it or get in the car."

  Sarah went to move, but felt too weak.

  Then darkness.

  Chapter 13

  Esmerelda scrunched down against the kitchen cupboards while she waited for the police to arrive, rolling pin in hand. After ten minutes she could hear people talking outside. It sounded like the guard, which meant the police had shown up.

  She relayed what happened and both officers walked around her trailer, inspecting it for signs of attempted entry or damage. After finding nothing amiss, they told her they would swing by on an hourly basis for the rest of the night and reminded her that she was in a gated area, guarded by security. She reminded them of just how easy it was for someone to breach security, such as the example provided earlier today.

  An hour passed. The police had come and gone. Esmerelda fixed herself another cup of tea and scanned the windows
to make sure all the curtains were pulled shut. She took a sip from her mug and wondered if she should call Sarah now or tomorrow. No doubt she would have gotten into trouble from her parents when she arrived home in a police cruiser. Esmerelda decided to call. She wanted to explain the incident to Sarah's parents as a misunderstanding. Tell her parents it was overzealous security or something.

  She also wanted to talk to Sarah, to find out why she'd been so persistent in contacting her earlier.

  She picked up the note with Sarah's phone number on it, given to her earlier from Dolan who had grabbed it from the cashiers at the front and dialed. On the third ring, it was answered.

  "Hello?"

  "Could I speak to Sarah please?" Esmerelda hoped her voice didn't betray her nervousness following the evening's police visit and attempted break-in.

  "Who's this?"

  "My name is Esmerelda. I saw you yesterday at the Psychic Fair when you came to pick your daughter up."

  "Esmerelda? Why do you people keep calling for Sarah? I don't want to be rude here, but this is the second call in one day."

  "Someone else called looking for Sarah?" Esmerelda asked.

  "Yes. A man. As soon as he called, Sarah ran out of the house."

  "Did he say a name?"

  "No. He said he wanted to talk to Sarah and that he was from the fair."

  "Would you be able to describe his voice for me?"

  "What's this all about? Why all the sudden interest in my daughter?"

  Esmerelda turned and switched the phone to her other ear. "I'm as puzzled as you are. I've been a member of the Psychic Fair for many years. I would know anyone's voice over the phone if they were a representative of the fair."

  "Well I have no idea how to describe a voice to you. All I can say is that it was a man." There was a pause. "Wait a minute. Are you suggesting that someone else called for my daughter and only said they were from the fair?"

  Esmerelda cleared her throat. Raspberry scents drifted from her mug beside her. She took a deep breath and tried to relax.

  "I'm talking to her mother, right? You're the one I saw at the fair."

  "Yes."

  "I think Sarah may be in trouble."

  "Trouble?"

  "How long has she been gone?"

  "All afternoon and evening, why?"

  "I think it best if you call the police and go on record that you want to report your daughter as a missing person."

  "What're you talking about? What could you know to say such a thing?"

  Through the receiver, Esmerelda could hear something scrape on a tile floor. It sounded like Sarah's mother took a seat on a kitchen chair.

  "Because you're telling me this, it means you know something. What do you know about my daughter?"

  "When I met Sarah, I saw her gift and I saw its drawbacks."

  "Gift? Drawbacks? None of this is making sense. Are you talking about the news lady in the river? Do you know what's happening to my daughter? Was she involved?"

  "All I know is she's probably in trouble. I tried to warn her yesterday."

  "Okay. Since you won't tell me what you know specifically, I will call the police and I'll tell them to pay you a visit. Maybe you'll tell them what you know. You have to understand that this sounds crazy. Yesterday Sarah goes to the Psychic Fair, today my daughter comes home in a police car accused of breaking into the fair, and then we get two phone calls from the fair looking for her. The first one sends her out the door, the second one tells me she's in trouble."

  "I know how this must look, but the reason I don't know more is because my ability isn't absolute. I can't just ask questions and get clear answers. Psychic ability is more of a feeling, an intuition."

  "You're kidding right? I saw you yesterday. You're just like the rest of the false prophets and now you're calling to tell me my daughter is missing. What's going on?"

  "Ma'am, I'm not involved in any way. I merely tried..."

  "I'm calling the police. Goodbye Esmerelda."

  A click followed. The line was dead. Esmerelda replaced the phone and stood up. She thought she could help but she'd only done more harm. She walked over to her kitchen and got another pot of tea brewing. It was going to be a long night indeed. She expected another visit from the police after that phone call.

  She picked up the remote and turned her little 20 inch Hitachi on. The news was covering a hit and run in front of a pizza place on Birk Street that just happened. Crews were on sight and witnesses were being paraded in front of the cameras.

  A man about seventeen years old said he saw a young woman with a red bandanna driving a Chrysler when it hit and killed a man. The bandanna girl and another man got in the car and sped off.

  One girl said she'd recognize that face anywhere.

  She knew the bandanna girl from high school a couple years ago.

  She was definitely Sarah Roberts.

  The news capped the story by saying that the police are now looking for eighteen year old Sarah Roberts for the hit and run murder of an as of yet unidentified male Caucasian.

  Chapter 14

  Amelia heard Caleb entering the house.

  What magic they had died years ago with her first born, Vivian.

  There wasn't a day gone by that Amelia didn't think of her. Sometimes she wondered if Caleb did.

  Their relationship had become routine. They were like roommates who made a commitment to each other to stick it out until their other daughter grew up and moved on.

  She sat in the living room trying to work on a piece of apple pie. It wasn't going well.

  "You're home late." She put her fork down. "We need to talk. Sarah's missing."

  She felt Caleb's eyes on her. He had removed his overcoat and was sorting through a pile of mail on the small stand by the front door.

  "What do you mean, missing?"

  "She left the house hours ago and hasn't returned. It's not like her to come home after midnight."

  She picked up her fork again.

  "That doesn't qualify as missing. Is there more? Is there something else you want to tell me?" Caleb asked. He walked over and stood in front of the coffee table.

  "I got a call from that psychic woman Sarah talked about. She said she warned Sarah about some kind of trouble she'd be in."

  Caleb dropped the envelopes that were in his hand onto the oak coffee table. He turned and planted himself in the Lazy-Boy opposite the couch. "What psychic woman? From the fair?"

  "The one from yesterday who Sarah said gave her a reading."

  "You've got to be kidding. If this is real and she knew about the danger, then why just warn us. Why not tell us when and where so we could prevent it?" He raised his hand in the air like he just discovered a lost secret. "You know why?" His eyes bulged. "Because there are no psychics. It's all a crock. If this psychic woman said Sarah was in danger and then something happened to Sarah, then it's either a coincidence or that woman is involved in some way."

  "She advised me to call the police."

  Caleb put his hands on either side of his head and gripped his hair in frustration. "She called here. How did she get our number?"

  "That's not all. A man called just before Sarah left. He said he was from the fair too. He didn't give a name."

  "What's going on? I knew that fair was a mistake from the beginning," Caleb said while he shook his head back and forth.

  Amelia got up from the couch and dropped her plate with the remainder of the apple pie on top of the mail. She turned and faced Caleb.

  "Sarah tried to break into the Psychic Fair grounds today. Security caught her and sent her home with the police and a stern warning."

  Caleb put his hand up for her to stop. "She just went to the fair yesterday. We picked her up. I saw the look in that woman's eyes. Amelia, tell me you're joking. I've already lost one daughter. I'm not about to lose another."

  "Correction; we've lost one daughter."

  "You know what I mean."

  "No, I don't. Tell me w
hat you mean Caleb." Amelia was aware her voice was rising. "That has always bothered me. I know you blame me for losing Vivian that day. You feel I was less of a mother. And then you refer to Vivian as if she was your daughter. She was mine too," Amelia said. She touched her chest a couple of times with her hand.

  "I'm sorry. We all grieve in our own way. It's a very personal thing for me. When I think of her, I think about her as my little girl. Since we decided to not tell Sarah about her sister until she was older, we have no pictures on the walls. The only memories are in a chest in the basement and in my head. Over the years those memories became so personal; they became my memories alone." He folded his hands behind his head. "I never mean to exclude you, but we can't even talk about Vivian aloud because we have to keep it from Sarah, which I don't agree with anymore."

  Amelia stepped away from the couch. She stood behind it and crossed her arms. "I don't want to tell her yet. She's got enough problems with that notebook and her hair pulling. We only recently helped her out of her depression. I think we should wait a couple more years. I know she's eighteen, but she acts fourteen."

  "If we keep waiting, there may be a point where we shouldn't tell her. She'll wonder if she could trust us after keeping such a secret for so long. I'm beginning to wonder if we made the right choice in the first place. We could've told her about her sister, just not how she was killed. And now Sarah isn't home at this late hour and we're panicking. This is insane. I can't lose two daughters."

  Amelia used the back of her hand to wipe a tear away. "There you go again, 'I can't lose two daughters', like you're the only parent."

  Caleb's face dropped. He raised his eyes to look at her, but kept his face aiming down. "We've gone over this before. I don't think this is the best time to discuss our feelings. We need to figure out what's going on with Sarah. Besides, I think we argued enough last night about the fact that we let her go to that stupid fair. Now look at the problems it's presenting."

  Amelia walked back around and sat down on the couch. "Okay, so should we call the police?"

  Caleb looked like he was thinking. He frowned, unclasped his hands and rubbed his chin. "They may take it as jumpy since she's only been gone a few hours."