Chapter Seven
*It wasn't this bad with Chloe,* Sam thought as her body convulsed. Jack had caught on that she was in labor when he had seen that her water had broken. He uncuffed her from the support beam and she rested fully on the mattress that was underneath her.
The labor was short; probably because this was her second, but it was hard. Jack wouldn't let her scream or even cry out and she wanted desperately for John, or even anyone else she loved to be there. Anyone but Jack. All the classes she and John had gone to were immediately forgotten. She didn't want to push, she didn't want the baby to be born. If it could only wait…But there is no waiting when it comes to nature, or serial killers, and Jack made her push. When the baby was born, she heard it cry once, and saw the huge smile on Jack's ugly face. Then, the two were gone.
"Please…please let me see it. Please tell me…come back…" Sam pleaded wearily, lying her head on the mattress. Silent tears fell as she shook in pain and fear. *He has my baby…*
She fought unconsciousness for as long as she could, but finally was forced to succumb by sheer pain and fatigue.
Looking down at his newborn baby, John desperately wanted to hold it, to see if he had a son or daughter, but needed to find Sam. Sam hadn't let the doctor tell them what sex the baby was, siting the element of surprise. They would pick out a girl name and a boy name and find out soon enough, she had said.
"Bring it to Grace," John told the officer. When the baby was safely in Grace's arms, he climbed the steps, motioned for backup, and opened the door.
Inside, the house was just like the other, except John had no fear of Jack jumping out at him, only boobytraps and trip wires, and a fear of what he would find when he found Sam.
"Sam!" John yelled into the darkness as he instinctively headed for the basement. "Sammy! Answer me!"
*I must be losing my mind,* Sam thought as she heard John's strong voice calling her. *John's come to rescue me…it's about damn time,* she thought as his calls grew closer and more persistent.
"John…" she whispered, out of strength. The basement door opened, sending a dim ray of light into the dark room.
"Sam?"
"John…I'm here…"
"Oh, thank God, Sammy." John made his way to her and pulled her into his arms as best he could with her wrist cuffed to the wall. As he squeezed her, Sam cried fresh tears and forgot about the pain that he was causing her by squeezing so tightly.
"You…you found me…" Sam said tiredly, holding onto him as tightly as she could. An officer unlocked the handcuffs and she could be securely enfolded in her husband's arms. John kissed her forehead and cried his own tears.
"He…Jack…he killed… he killed the baby…" Sam stammered, crying.
"What?" John asked her, certain she was in shock.
"The baby…it's gone…" she replied slowly, taking a scared breath between each word. She needed to get to a hospital; John could feel her shaking.
"No, its not. It's outside, Grace has it. Its safe, Sammy, the baby is safe."
"Jack?"
"He's dead."
With John's assurance that everything was fine, Sam allowed herself to mercifully fall asleep in his arms, knowing that she would be safe.
Sam awoke in the hospital a day later with tubes and wires running from her body to all sorts of machines. Turning her head, she saw her husband's dark head resting on the bed next to her arm. Her face hurt; she was sure she had bruises, and she could see blood seeping though the crisp white bandage on her right wrist. She wasn't hungry anymore; probably thanks to the IV tubes in her arm, but she was still very tired and sore.
"John?" she asked, quietly. He immediately lifted his head, his green eyes meeting hers.
"Hey, sleepyhead. I see you're finally awake." He took her hand in his and leaned over to kiss the top of her head. "How are you feeling?"
"Tired. Sore. Otherwise, just fine. Do you think I can see the baby?" John smiled, he had been wondering how long it would be before she asked.
"You mean, our son?" he replied, smiling the biggest grin Sam had ever seen. *He looks like a little boy on Christmas,* she thought.
"We have a son!?" she exclaimed as the words sunk in. John nodded and abruptly left the room. He returned less than five minutes later holding the baby. He placed the small bundle in her arms.
Looking at her son, Sam inhaled sharply. "He's so beautiful." She looked at John, her eyes filled with gratitude and love.
"I love you, Sammy." John said, hugging her gently to not hurt her or his son.
"I love you, too." She replied. The baby made a little sound and his parents smiled. "And, of course, we love you, too." Sam told him. She fell asleep holding her new son in her arms and holding John's hand as he sat next to her, watching his new family sleep.
The End
*It wasn't this bad with Chloe,* Sam thought as her body convulsed. Jack had caught on that she was in labor when he had seen that her water had broken. He uncuffed her from the support beam and she rested fully on the mattress that was underneath her.
The labor was short; probably because this was her second, but it was hard. Jack wouldn't let her scream or even cry out and she wanted desperately for John, or even anyone else she loved to be there. Anyone but Jack. All the classes she and John had gone to were immediately forgotten. She didn't want to push, she didn't want the baby to be born. If it could only wait…But there is no waiting when it comes to nature, or serial killers, and Jack made her push. When the baby was born, she heard it cry once, and saw the huge smile on Jack's ugly face. Then, the two were gone.
"Please…please let me see it. Please tell me…come back…" Sam pleaded wearily, lying her head on the mattress. Silent tears fell as she shook in pain and fear. *He has my baby…*
She fought unconsciousness for as long as she could, but finally was forced to succumb by sheer pain and fatigue.
Looking down at his newborn baby, John desperately wanted to hold it, to see if he had a son or daughter, but needed to find Sam. Sam hadn't let the doctor tell them what sex the baby was, siting the element of surprise. They would pick out a girl name and a boy name and find out soon enough, she had said.
"Bring it to Grace," John told the officer. When the baby was safely in Grace's arms, he climbed the steps, motioned for backup, and opened the door.
Inside, the house was just like the other, except John had no fear of Jack jumping out at him, only boobytraps and trip wires, and a fear of what he would find when he found Sam.
"Sam!" John yelled into the darkness as he instinctively headed for the basement. "Sammy! Answer me!"
*I must be losing my mind,* Sam thought as she heard John's strong voice calling her. *John's come to rescue me…it's about damn time,* she thought as his calls grew closer and more persistent.
"John…" she whispered, out of strength. The basement door opened, sending a dim ray of light into the dark room.
"Sam?"
"John…I'm here…"
"Oh, thank God, Sammy." John made his way to her and pulled her into his arms as best he could with her wrist cuffed to the wall. As he squeezed her, Sam cried fresh tears and forgot about the pain that he was causing her by squeezing so tightly.
"You…you found me…" Sam said tiredly, holding onto him as tightly as she could. An officer unlocked the handcuffs and she could be securely enfolded in her husband's arms. John kissed her forehead and cried his own tears.
"He…Jack…he killed… he killed the baby…" Sam stammered, crying.
"What?" John asked her, certain she was in shock.
"The baby…it's gone…" she replied slowly, taking a scared breath between each word. She needed to get to a hospital; John could feel her shaking.
"No, its not. It's outside, Grace has it. Its safe, Sammy, the baby is safe."
"Jack?"
"He's dead."
With John's assurance that everything was fine, Sam allowed herself to mercifully fall asleep in his arms, knowing that she would be safe.
Sam awoke in the hospital a day later with tubes and wires running from her body to all sorts of machines. Turning her head, she saw her husband's dark head resting on the bed next to her arm. Her face hurt; she was sure she had bruises, and she could see blood seeping though the crisp white bandage on her right wrist. She wasn't hungry anymore; probably thanks to the IV tubes in her arm, but she was still very tired and sore.
"John?" she asked, quietly. He immediately lifted his head, his green eyes meeting hers.
"Hey, sleepyhead. I see you're finally awake." He took her hand in his and leaned over to kiss the top of her head. "How are you feeling?"
"Tired. Sore. Otherwise, just fine. Do you think I can see the baby?" John smiled, he had been wondering how long it would be before she asked.
"You mean, our son?" he replied, smiling the biggest grin Sam had ever seen. *He looks like a little boy on Christmas,* she thought.
"We have a son!?" she exclaimed as the words sunk in. John nodded and abruptly left the room. He returned less than five minutes later holding the baby. He placed the small bundle in her arms.
Looking at her son, Sam inhaled sharply. "He's so beautiful." She looked at John, her eyes filled with gratitude and love.
"I love you, Sammy." John said, hugging her gently to not hurt her or his son.
"I love you, too." She replied. The baby made a little sound and his parents smiled. "And, of course, we love you, too." Sam told him. She fell asleep holding her new son in her arms and holding John's hand as he sat next to her, watching his new family sleep.
The End