~Okay, the chapter I have been waiting for! Hope you like it! I had a great deal of fun writing it, and in fact, my shoulders are very tense from how long I've been sitting hear writing (minus the times I left to eat pizza a play pac-man) ! Please, enjoy!~
Chapter Six: And I Will Pull The Trigger
Dr. Richardson must have snuck down to us while we were talking. Why the hell didn't we get the girls and leave? That should've been the first thing we did. But it was so amazing to actually find them, it's not like we were thinking clearly. Jesus.
Immediately after he finishes his "hello", Tony and I are on him. We get as far as pushing him out of the little room and into the hall when he swings. His fist collides with Tony's jaw, catching him off guard, and Tony falls back against the wall hard. Richardson turns on me. I've got no where to go, any of the rooms would just corner me, so I bolt for the stairs. Up, up, up, and then I'm out into the first hall when he jumps on me. We fly into the living room, hit the floor and roll, and my ear slams into the wooden coffee table. It's insanely painful and so hot I can't tell if I'm bleeding or not. It doesn't matter.
Richardson is on top of me. Before I've completely collected myself, he's hitting me. I feel my nose break, the blood pouring into my mouth, and I don't care. I don't care about anything. I just know that this man needs to get off of me, and fast. He's got both my arms pinned to the floor, and he crashes his forehead into mine. The pain is blinding, but I don't need to see for what I do next. Wrenching my right arm free, I jam it into his gut before he can stop me. He lurches backwards and a gun I didn't know he had flies across the room.
Just like that, we're on our feet. The gun is too far away for either of us to get it without being stopped by the other just yet.
"Clay," he says. "I am so glad to finally meet you." He's speaking in an utterly unsettling too-normal tone. I suddenly want to vomit again. But once again, I shove the thought away, and instead I distance myself as far as possible from this man. When I'm all the way on an opposite side of the room from him, I pull my shirt over my head and ball it up, because I need something to wipe my face with. I don't take my eyes off of him all the time it takes me to clear the blood away, and then I toss the shirt to the floor. As if nothing is wrong between us, he waits patiently for me to finish, and then continues speaking.
"Your little friend -- Hannah -- talks about you, you know." He says. I'm surprised to hear this, and I'm sure it shows on my face, because he adds, "Not directly, but in her sleep. Very odd things, the stuff she says."
"Like what?" I warily edge my way closer to the gun, since it's only near seven feet away now. "What does she say?"
"My little apple seems to think she loves you. And what's more astonishing is that she seems to think you love her!" He exclaims with a chuckle and a wide-eyed look of hilarity. "I've told her before that no one could ever love a thing like her, but lately she refuses to believe me. Of course, it isn't very helpful that you should show up just now; you'll make her think she's right."
"What if she is right? What if I do?" I ask and he seems genuinely taken aback, with a hand to his chest to complete the expression.
"Why, how could you? How could you love her? She isn't worth it, my boy. Not worth the time of day." I am glowing with rage now, and in a crazed rush of adrenaline I forget the gun and fly across the room.
With a strength I didn't know I had, because I've never had to access it before, I grab Richardson's arm and twist it behind his back until I can almost feel the thing about to break. I bang his chest to the wall and put my mouth right next to his ear.
"Hannah is worth the world, you sick fuck." I yank him back and slam him into the wall once more before pushing myself away from him and leaping back across the room in the direction of the gun. I've got it in my hand just barely when I feel his hand on my ankle, dragging me back. I thrust my other leg towards him and make contact with his left cheekbone, causing him to yelp in pain and loosen his hold above my foot. That's all I need to wriggle free.
I start to bring the gun up and... realize too late that it's on the safety lock.
"Shit."
Richardson's closing in, so I do the next best thing and slam the gun into the side of his head, allowing another yelp to escape, but at the same time allowing the gun to fling itself from my hand. It falls a foot away from Richardson's boots, and I have no hope of catching it. He seems to be in a daze, however, and doesn't see where the gun has fallen. Instead, he shakes his head and lunges for me. I fall into the bar of the kitchen, the stools clattering to the floor. He flies forward again and his fist is pounding me anywhere it can find.
The blood sliding down his face threatens my stomach once more, but I refocus the sick feeling and grab one of the stools on the tile next to me. The moment it collides with his side, I leap up and grab the gun again. Too late. Richardson is right on my tail and we're both down in an instant. I catch his right eyebrow with the butt of the gun, and blood sloshes into his eye, obscurring his vision for a moment, but once again, not long enough. He smacks me backhand across the face just as I bring the gun up, and his hand finds that, too, in its swing. I let my gaze shift and I watch the gun make an arc through the air and then clatter against the floor near the opening of the hallway. In that second while I am looking away, Richardson takes the advantage. I am unable to get my arms free and the bastard pins my neck down and sits on my chest, both cutting off my source of air and squeezing the air I already aquire out of my lungs. Within seconds my vision goes hazy and I begin to imagine footsteps on the other side of the living room.
~Tony~
"Fuck, that hurt." Tony says, shaking his head to rid himself of that sick feeling after blacking out.
"You haven't been out for very long," one of the girls tells him.
"Yeah, only a few seconds, really." Hannah says.
The two unknown girls finally seem to have snapped out of whatever trance-like nothingness they had been consumed by. "My name is Sarah McHare, by the way." The first one, the tall blonde, says.
"And I'm Casey Jones," the other one, the petite red-head, says.
"Tony," he offers. "Goddamn, did you hear that? Sounded like they dropped a bomb up there."
"He's got a gun," Skye whispers.
"What?!" Tony screeches.
"A gun."
"Oh, no," Tony scrambles to his feet and then stops and looks around himself. "Where's Hannah?"
Tony and the three girls run for the door, and then up the stairs.
~Hannah~
"Yeah, only a few seconds, really." Hannah says, and then slides away, knowing the others aren't really paying attention to her. She slowly edges her way up the staircase, listening to the fainter and fainter words of the others below her and to the louder and louder thrashing sounds ahead of her. She reaches the top, and sees that sitting there at the edge of the hallway is a gun. Silently, she stalks over to it, picks it up, and then stops dead in her tracks at the sight before her.
Clay and the doctor have beaten the shit out of eachother, and Richardson's got Clay pinned to the floor, strangling him.
Suddenly, Hannah forgets herself and rushes across the room, forgets that the thing in her hand is a gun, and slams it into the back of the doctor's head.
~back to Clay~
Just when I think that I am going to lose consciousness, air bursts into my lungs, and I realize the pressure is gone from my throat. Slowly, my sight comes back. Hannah and Richardson are standing a yard or two away from me.
No, not standing. More like he's beating her, and she's trying as best she can to defend herself, then giving up on that and just doing what she can to shield herself. I can't move for a few minutes, and in that time I feel like I'm going to go crazy if I have to sit there and watch Hannah die right before my eyes for another second, when suddenly I am standing and I can hear the fresh adrenaline pumping in my ears. With the new wave of power, I have the long rectangular coffee table in my hands before I really realize I've picked it up. Richardson's back is to me. I break the table across his back, shards of the glass top stabbing him, others falling jagged to the carpet.
"Clay!" Hannah screams. I look up in time to block the ceramic vase that is hurtling toward me with my forearm, and cry out even though I feel no pain; the sound that comes is more a growl than anything else.
I notice from the corner of my eye that Tony is barreling down the hallway, the other girls in tow, and he and I make eye contact. It's as if he's reading my mind and in a second we ram into Richardson, one of us on either side. The three of us fly into the adjoining kitchen, Richardson struggling to keep up with fighting the both of us.
Tony breaks away just long enough to toss his phone at the girls. The red-headed girl jumps for it, dialing 911 as soon as she flips it open.
Over in the corner, safe away from the fight, the other girl is tending to Hannah, no doubt checking for broken bones. I can't see Skye anywhere. Then briefly, I catch a glimpse of the top of her head, behind the bar. What is she doing?
Then Richardson's fist reconnects with my nose. The second break sends a line of fire through my brain, and I almost collapse. Tony hauls the doctor into the wall as I crash into the counter, flinging a hand out to catch my balance.
Bang! The shot is barely ringing through the air when the next ones crack. Bang! Bang! Three shots.
"You fucking whore! I'll kill you!" Richardson blares into the sudden silence. He makes to leap forward and then crumples, blood smearing on the shiny pink tiles. His breathing is labored, and he looks like he's ready to faint, and he might, but the wounds aren't fatal, and not anywhere he'll bleed out any time soon.
I look around me, still slightly dumb-founded at the fact that it's over, for the most part. And there, on the other side of the bar, is Skye, holding the smoking gun. Her eyes are wide, and then she blinks down at her hands, at the gun, and tears stream down her face. She throws the gun down and falls to the floor, cradling her head in her hands. Her shoulders shake with the heaving sobs, and Tony rushes to comfort her. He curls an arm around her shoulders and pulls her up to stand, then into a tight embrace. Skye hugs him back, greatful for the very real affection, and floods his shoulder.
With Hannah and the one girl still in the corner, and Tony with Skye crying on the couch, I am left alone with myself and the other girl.
I catch her eye and we walk into the hall.
"So, how did this start?" I ask, still catching my breath.
"I don't know. Sarah and I were in the same room at the hospital, and we'd never even seen Dr. Richardson, until the day he came into our room in the middle of one night. He drugged us with something, I guess, and next thing I knew we were being dragged through some sort of tunnel, maybe just a dim hallway. I don't know. But then we were here," she pauses. "I'm Casey, by the way."
"Clay. So," I don't know what to say. And then I remember Skye. "How does she tie in to all of this?" I nod my head in Skye's direction.
"Oh. Doc found her years ago, when he first transferred to the hospital out here. I guess it was one of those psychological hold things, like the fear was too much for her or something, because try as she might, she could never bring herself to call the cops, or help us get out. I was really surprised when Hannah got her to get those tapes to you."
"Well, it was indirect, which probably helped."
"Yeah. You're pretty lucky, you know," she says, suddenly. "That Hannah, she's a sweetheart."
I make a "hum" noise with the back of my throat in answer, and glance back at her.
"She loves you."
I just stare at Casey, unblinking. For some reason, hearing this from Casey makes it seem true, and my heart catches in my throat.
"I love her, too." I say, then steer my mind back on track. "Did you get the police? Address and everything?"
"Yes."
"God. So, who's the doc, anyway? Why did he pick Hannah? She said on one of the tapes that he lied to her, I think. What happened?"
"Well, a few years ago, when the doc came here, it was because he had followed her family. They used to live on the same street in that other town, I guess. He was obsessed, like any sicko would be. Then he trapped Skye one night and got it in her head that she could never leave him, betray him, or he'd murder her family and whatnot, whatever it is that psycho assholes tell their helpers. Skye helped him keep an eye on Hannah, y'know. When she reported back that Hannah was looking suicidal, haircut and all, he made his move. Found a way to meet her, talked to her about it, gave her a fresh bottle of pills, who knows what kind, and that was that. Planted the idea for the tapes. He had it all planned out. All of it. He even knew that she would survive, obviously. Then he'd take her here with the rest of us. But she realized that he had lied to her when she woke up in the hospital. She loved you man. Loves you. And she knew you loved her, too. She could feel it," she pauses. Takes a few breaths. "You know, you're the only thing that has kept her awake through this nightmare. Dude, when Hannah came in here talking about you, I mean, you were the only thing keeping the rest of us sane, as well. You were the hope." Oh, God.
"You guys let it all rest on me? You didn't even know me. What if I was some jerk? You had no way of knowing."
"True, but you've never heard her talk in her sleep," she says, and we leave it at that.
We turn and head back into the living room. Sarah and Hannah are in the kitchen now, having carefully stepped over Richardson's shaking body, and are filling up cups of water for everyone. I walk over to them and take in the sight of Hannah. Her back is turned to me, and she doesn't look to badly hurt.
"Hannah," I call softly. She turns and just looks into my eyes for the longest time. She doesn't look too bad in front either; only some minor busts in her skin, but otherwise the bruises are all old. And then I spy the marks on her neck, and realize that he had been choking her before I hit him with the table. Jesus. I hold my arms out, the lingering pain only brief, then I am numb to all pain as she walks into my arms. I can feel only the warmth of her, I can see only this beautiful creature in my arms. And I love her.
"Oh, Hannah," I whisper again, and my voice breaks slightly at her name. I gently caress her back, her hair, her arms, careful not to move to fast or be rough even in the slightest. We're both still fragile at this point, not that I care about me.
"Here," Sarah holds out the water, ice cubes floating in the cups. Hannah and I pull apart, take the cups and walk into the living room, where we sit next to Tony and Skye on the couch. Shortly after us, Sarah walks in and hands a cup to Tony, Skye, and Casey, then takes her place in a chair. I notice that Tony is still holding Skye's hand, a wonder if all his picking on the "hermit" all these years had been cover for something more, a code many of the boys I know use. I smile inspite of the pain on my face.
For the next ten minutes, we all just sit round the small room, sipping water and holding the cool, condensation-covered glasses to our faces, enjoying the empty, peaceful silence.
And then the police arrive, and the whole events of the last two days are told, six different points of view taken into account, plus the one Richardson has yet to give. Parents are called, the doc is loaded into an ambulence, along with a police officer, and the six of us are hauled off to be questioned further, in more detail. And I don't really hear any of it. I don't really feel any of it. I just sit and think of the girl I thought was lost to me, and wait for the time I get to see her again, to hold her and never let go.
"I love her," I whisper to no one imparticular and smile, numb to the pain, and to everything but the butterflies that have nested in my stomache.
~Okay, big action-packed chapter, haha. If there are still things that are unclear at this point (which I am sure there are), just tell me in a review, and I'll wait to write the next chapter/possible-epilogue so I can make sure I fit the answer in. Thank you for reading! :)~