William Bernhardt - Dark Eye

He was screaming and crying all at once. The volume made me wince, another element I couldn’t be dreaming. “I told them it was a dam. I told them it was a dam.”

“All right, son, please move aside. Let us get her into the ambulance.”

I could tell he didn’t want to let go. Funny thing was, I didn’t really want him to let go. But they pried him away and hoisted me onto a stretcher. Darcy insisted on riding in the ambulance with me. I could tell Patrick didn’t like the idea, but he didn’t want to take the time to argue about it.

It was a pleasant little ride to the hospital, my friends all around me. I slept a little, listened a little, maybe both at the same time. It was nice. Darcy held my hand the whole way.

She’s alive! She’s really alive and I knew she would be except I didn’t know but I hoped and she is she’s alive alive and we found her and I guess Jesus does save because I prayed and I prayed and there she was she’s all beat up and she lost her clothes but she’s alive and I’m so happy I was so sad and scared but she’s alive and she let me hold her hand in the big car on the way to the hospital.

Her hand felt nice.

The next time I opened my eyes-at least, the next time I opened my eyes and remembered it-I felt much better. Which was not to say I felt good-I was feeble and tired and had trouble speaking. I felt like hell, like I still had one foot in the grave. But definitely better than before.

“It’s because they’ve been force-feeding you,” Lisa explained. “Through the tubes.”

I made a purring sound. “Must be yummy stuff. Could I get some to take home with me?”

“You don’t want it.” She was sitting beside my hospital bed, her arm snaking through the steel bars and resting on mine. “May be good for you, but it makes your skin cold as ice. You’ll never get a date.”

“Might be better for everyone.” Rachel was also there-really, truly there. I don’t know how she’d managed to slip away from her keepers, but I was grateful they’d allowed it. “Help me out, Rache-have I given you a hug yet?”

“Yes, but here’s another.” She leaned across the bed and gave me a squeeze I could feel through the sheets. God, but that was good. What had I done to merit this attention, this warming affection? It reminded me how pathetically I’d abused their friendship, lying, hiding, them trying their best to help me while I acted as if my only friend was that revolting bottle. I didn’t deserve them. “I love you, Susan.”

Damn it if I didn’t start to cry. Must be the medication. The tears just welled up in my eyes and there wasn’t a thing I could do to stop them. I choked, couldn’t speak. I was going to start earning this friendship, this affection. I had to do better, for them if not for me.

“Love you, too,” I snuffled, wiping water from my eyes. “So this is real, right?”

Rachel and Lisa exchanged a look. “As far as we know.”

“And you’re real. This is actually happening.”

“Are we delving into existentialism here?” Lisa asked. “Because if so, I need to go home and reread my Kierkegaard. Then I’m sure we could have a very deep and profound metaphysical conversation.”

“Please don’t.” I squeezed Rachel’s arms. “Did I mention that you look great?” Very fresh-faced and healthy-the picture of an all-American teenage girl. She was wearing a little makeup, which she’d never done before. But I had to admit it looked good on her. She was dressed well, too, in a skirt and some kind of fancy pastel T-shirt. The jeans I was accustomed to seeing her in didn’t show off her legs, which were truly excellent legs. And it appeared that Mrs. Shepherd, unlike myself, knew the current location of her ironing board.

Rachel laughed, obviously pleased. “I think it’s the basketball. I’ve been getting lots of exercise.”

“Heard you were quite the defensive player.”

“Yeah, I do the pick. I mean, they give me that because I can’t shoot. But maybe next year…”

“I have no doubt.” I gave her another squeeze. “You can do anything you want to do. You know that. Why don’t we get together, soon as the warden releases me. Maybe even this weekend.”

She winced. “This weekend?”

“Uh-oh. Big game?”

“Actually… it’s the science fair.”

“You’re in the science fair?”

“Yes!” she said, bubbling with enthusiasm. “I made this cool automated mini-cyclotron thing that demonstrates the principle of torque. Do you know what torque is?”

“Will you think less of me if I say no?”

“ ’Course not.”

“No.”

“Well, then. You need to come see my exhibit.”

“Engineering… that’s Mr. Shepherd’s field, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, before he retired. He’s been a big help. I mean, it’s my work. But he was able to, you know, give me some assistance…”

That I couldn’t have given you in a million years.

There was a knock on the door. Patrick poked his head in.

“Come on,” I said. “We’re having a party.”

He did, and Chief O’Bannon came in behind him-with Darcy. Darcy hung back and didn’t say a word. But he seemed pleased to see me. And I was pleased to see them.

And then I remembered the pictures, which Patrick and the Chief had seen-I could tell just by looking at them. And I wished I could crawl into a coffin and close the lid behind me.

Patrick gently laid his hand on my shoulder.

“Are you feeling any stronger?” he asked.

There were times when I wished I didn’t have this empathic gift. “Oh, God, you want to talk business, don’t you?”

He squirmed slightly. “If you’re up to it.”

Lisa jumped to her feet. “If you guys are going to start talking serial killer, I’m out of here.” She looked at Rachel. “Give you a ride home?”

Rachel nodded. I waved at Lisa on her way out. “Call me tonight.”

“Okay. It’ll be late. I’ve got a date.”

Of course she did. “Don’t kiss anything I wouldn’t.”

“That-” She stopped, made an erasing gesture with her hands. “Too easy.”

After they were gone, Patrick began his subtle probing. Apparently he had been chosen as point man. Darcy and the chief sat quietly behind him.

“I know no one has specifically asked you about what happened yet,” he said.

“True.”

“And I’m sure it’s the last thing in the world you want to talk about.”

“True.”

“But the doctors say you may be here for weeks, and we just can’t wait that long. What can you tell us about him?”

“He was very weird, Patrick. Babbling. I think our theories about multiple personalities must be right. He was talking to a voice I couldn’t hear, acting as if it were controlling him.”

He pondered a moment. “We’ve neither seen nor heard any trace of him since you were kidnapped. There’ve been no more killings or abductions. No letters or phone calls or packages.” He smiled a little. “We were wondering if maybe you’d killed the bastard.”

“I wish.”

Patrick grew quiet. I knew what was on his mind. “Susan… we’ve seen the pictures.”

“I know,” I said quietly.

“The media got them, too. But to their credit, they haven’t run them, not in the papers or TV. But they have… talked about them.”

I closed my eyes. I felt even more naked, more exposed. More raped. But what did I expect? Deference from the media? Right, and a Corvette for Christmas.

“Does Rachel know?”

“She hasn’t seen the pictures, but… she must’ve heard or read something.”

And the custody judge who already thinks I’m unfit, too, no doubt.

I looked across the room at Darcy. Had he seen those lovely glamour shots? Would he understand them if he did? Impossible to know. But when I peered into those expressionless eyes, I was sure I saw something. If not a total comprehension of how I had been compromised, then at least a knowledge that I had been hurt. And a sorrow. For me.