Chapter 31: Unforseen Troubles

July 5, 1993 - Monday

When Ellie stepped outside, there was already a great many things going on at the dig site. Local volunteers, students, and tourists were running around in every direction. Today was what Rob liked to call "swap a tourist", where some of the paying tourists would go home, and new ones would show up in their place. This event would always occur on a Monday, so it usually made for a rigorous day. She didn't really expect to see Rob for much of the day, since it was his turn to do the orientation.

Having slept in slightly, she had missed Alan in the morning, so she decided to go and look for him first. She wove in and out between people, answering question upon question thrown her way, as she made her way to West Hill, Horizon 3E. This was mostly unexplored territory until now, and Alan had finally been able to find fossils from a few smaller carnivorous dinosaurs. She knew these were his favorite types of fossils to find. After listening to him go on and on about the Dromaeosauridae family, it was a no-brainer to figure out that this was what he liked researching the most.

Ellie made it to the area. The walk wasn't as far as it used to be, since Alan had his trailer moved closer to the section. He had spent almost every waking hour in that area for the last month, with the possible exception of going on that Miles City weekend trip. She really hadn't seen much of him in that time, unless she was by his side assisting him.

She found him lying on his chest, carefully chiseling a tiny fossil imbedded in front of him. Feeling the presence of someone nearby, he looked up.

"Oh, if it isn't the early bird," he said, sitting up and wiping some dirt from his face.

"I had a late night," she explained, stifling a yawn.

"When will you learn to shut those old black and white movies off when they begin after midnight?" he asked while putting his sunglasses on.

"Because I'm a hopeless romantic," she answered, smiling.

"They're not romantic. They're corny," he commented.

"To you they're corny. To me, they are exactly the way I wish life and love were."

Alan rolled his eyes and pointed a finger at her.

"No more corny movies for you. You're scaring me."

Ellie changed the subject, "Okay, move over," she said, laying in the dirt next to him.

He smiled and gave her a little room next to what he was working on. Grabbing another chisel, she dove right in, like she had been there helping him for hours. They had always found it easy to work with one another. She was really the first person that didn't get in his way at all, so he was happy to have the company.

They worked tirelessly for a few hours, happy to just make some small talk, and then Alan sat up again, stretching.

"I'm starving," he announced.

"Yeah, I'm a little hungry myself."

"Let's go to Leon's," he suggested.

She nodded in agreement. They picked up their tools and placed them in a neat pile, covering them with a nearby tarp. Then, they began to walk back.

"Why are we going this way?" Ellie asked, since they seemed to be going the long way around.

"I just wanted to take a quick look around the area," he answered.

"Sounds good."

They walked for about ten minutes, when Alan suddenly dropped to the ground. Her first reaction was that he might have tripped on something, while her second reaction was that he might have suffered a heart attack in the grilling Montana sun.

"Alan?"

"Look at this," he whispered, breathing out slowly as he studied the ground before him.

Ellie was instantly intrigued by his intenseness, so she knelt down next to him. After he moved to the right, allowing the sun to shine directly on the dirt, it only took seconds for her to see what he had seen.

Excited, she grabbed his arm and whispered, "Is that what I think it is?"

"Another dromaeosaur," he answered.

"How many does that make now?"

"Three," he answered. After another deep breath, he continued, "Three in one summer."

"How lucky that you just happened to look down at the right time," she perceived.

Alan stood, frowned at her, and readjusted his hat.

"Not lucky. Skilled."

"Skilled my ass," she said, smiling at him, "Luck had a great deal to do with this. Admit it or I'll take that hat and bury it while you're sleeping."

Alan looked as if he were really thinking about that ultimatum.

"Fine, it was luck," he finally said.

Ellie laughed, "What is it with that hat anyway?"

"Sometime, when you have a few hours, I'll tell you."

Ellie gestured toward the ground, "Well, I think we're going to be spending quite a few hours in very close relation with one another."

"Okay, well, there's not really a story behind the hat," he admitted. "I just like it."

Shaking her head at his admission, she asked, "How long have you had it?"

"This one?" He asked, lightly touching its brim, "Not long."

"How long?"

"Twelve years."

"Twelve . . . years?"

"Yes."

"That's kind of a long time to normal people. You realize that, right?"

"Are you calling me abnormal?"

"Yes."

"Just checking," he said, coming in for a quick kiss on her cheek. "Okay! Let's get this started, shall we?"

"You're the boss," she said, nodding, watching him get back in the dirt.

"When did that happen?" he asked, looking up.

"You're the boss here, Alan. I'm the boss everywhere else. Got it?"

"Sure thing."

Ellie loved the particular grin he was using at that moment. He was such a good-looking man and coupled with that sexy grin, she wanted nothing more than to be alone with him, secluded away somewhere private. That would have to wait, though. She leaned down next to him.

"So, how will you go about deciding on which species this is?" she asked as she sighed, trying to get her mind onto something more scientifically important.

He looked at her, and it was clear that he had been having the same thoughts of intimacy. Sighing in an equally disappointing manner, he reeled in his inner thoughts and the scientist came back out to the surface.

"Good North American dromaeosaur material is hard to come by, so there is very little to compare it with. As the fossil becomes more exposed, I'll be able to make a more educated guess.

"I didn't even realize that velociraptor was prominent in this area."

"Velociraptor langstoni is becoming well know in these parts, in the Hell Creek Formation and the Judith River group."

"Have most of them been infants? I've noticed that quite a few things uncovered here are in the infancy stage."

"Yes, the majority of fossils discovered are infants or juveniles," he said, "But this one, at first glance, looks like it might be an adult," he said, as he gently rubbed his hands over the dirt.

"That's a nice change," she said.

"It's nice, but I think the abundance of infants in the area is the reason Hammond funds my digs."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. He's very interested in young dinosaurs. Both him and Donald Gennaro. That's what most of my reports were about."

"That's more than a little odd, don't you think?"

"You want to hear something really odd? Gennaro. He used to call me in the middle of the night, asking about the feeding habits of certain dinosaurs."

"In the middle of the night?"

"Yeah," Alan said, laughing. "I'm not sure what all of the urgency was about, but overall, the guy is annoying and pushy."

"He better hope and pray that he never wakes me from a sound sleep in the middle of the night," she said.

"God help him," Alan said, laughing, "if he is foolish enough to call when you're near the phone."

Ellie smiled, picturing that little scenario.

"But . . . he works for Mr. Money Bags, so you answer all of his questions like a good little scientist," she teased.

"Whatever makes the guy behind the money happy, I suppose," Alan admitted. "He's a little 'out there', but I only have to talk to him a few times a year, so it's a small price to pay for how much money he funds me."

They made themselves comfortable and began the long and tedious process of digging, totally forgetting about eating lunch.

Rob approached Alan, who was sitting on a chair near the barbeque, eating a hamburger. It was almost dusk and the heat had finally died down, making way for a nice breeze.

"Where's Ellie?"

"She'll be here in a second," Alan answered, not even looking at him.

"Where have you guys been all day?" he asked with an attitude.

"Working, Rob."

"Where though?"

"Why?"

"Because I needed you earlier, that's why," Rob said a little louder than he meant to. He brought his voice back to normal and added, "These new tourists are completely dim-witted."

"All of them have been dim-witted so far, Rob. There is no difference between the ones from now and the ones from last week," Alan observed, smiling, "But this was your idea, so live with it."

"You know, I'm starting to think you're really not all that nice."

"I don't care."

Rob was going to add something that would surely be idiotic, but he saw Ellie walking toward them, so he didn't.

"You ready to go home?" she asked Alan, tapping a hand on his leg.

"Yep," he answered, standing up and making his way past Rob.

"Hey, wait, I need to ask you a million and one questions first."

"Tomorrow, okay?"

Rob frowned, "Yeah, okay."

"Oh, I almost forgot," Ellie said, stopping abruptly. "I think something is wrong with my car."

"Like what?" Rob asked.

"On the way here, it made a ticking noise."

"You want me to drive it home and listen to it?" Alan offered.

"Yeah, would you?"

Alan nodded and Rob laughed.

"Since when are you a car mechanic, you bookworm nerdy science guy?" Rob joked.

"My father was a mechanic."

Rob frowned, "Oh, yeah. My mistake. Proceed."

"Your father was a mechanic?" Ellie asked, as this was news to her.

"Well, that among other things, yeah."

"So, were you guys planning on eating somewhere?" Rob asked, "Because I'm starving and it's no fun eating alone."

Alan looked at his watch and then back to Ellie, "Well, it's after work hours, so she's the boss," he teased her.

"Very funny," Ellie said, giving him one of her looks.

Opting to just go home, leaving Rob on his own, Ellie had started the drive back to the house in Alan's truck. It seemed to take forever and by the time she got close, it was dark outside. Alan had been driving behind her, but he had gotten caught at a light back a little way, so she didn't see her car anymore.

She turned into the subdivision and suddenly saw headlights coming toward her. She hit the brakes immediately, trying to move out of the way, but she was sideswiped on her side, causing Alan's truck to skid and fall into the ditch on the side of the road. She had her seatbelt on, but that didn't stop her body from smashing into the side of the door. She grabbed the steering wheel in panic, as the screeching and the sound of the initial impact flooded her ears. The metal grinding against metal was very loud and the sound traveled quickly, causing some lights in the neighborhood to illuminate.

Alan was in her car, about a half mile behind her. As he turned into the subdivision, he saw a dark colored truck back up and then speed back into another truck that was in the ditch to the right. His heart sank as noticed that it was his truck in the ditch, and then he became overanxious as the second collision happened in front of him.

Speeding up and racing to the ditch as fast as Ellie's car would go, he then slammed on the brakes of the Taurus, bringing the car to a skidding and sliding halt next to the accident. He was close enough to see that there was a bearded man behind the wheel of the mysterious truck, but he couldn't make out any features since it was dark.

The man had been backing up again, when he saw the Taurus come to a stop nearby. He turned the wheels sharply to the right and forcefully hit the gas pedal. The truck tires squealed against the pavement and then it came barreling toward Alan, who had already opened the car door trying to get to Ellie.

In the short amount of time it took him to open the door, the headlights of the mystery truck were coming his way, at a very high rate of speed toward the side of the car. He didn't have enough time to shut the door, as the truck collided with the Taurus, shutting the door for him. The whole side of the car buckled under the pressure, threatening to trap Alan inside. He hadn't worn his seatbelt though, so he was able to move his body out of harm's way.

The man in the truck saw the driver of the Taurus and swore to himself, as he backed up again and continued to go backwards, down the street. He reached the two-lane road and screeched out of the subdivision.

Kind of dazed, Alan sat very still in the car trying to comprehend what had just happened. Seconds later, he opened the passenger door and crawled over the seat and out of the car, stumbling toward the ditch. He felt a warm stream of blood coming down his forehead where his head had hit the windshield, but he simply wiped it away as he made his way to Ellie.

There were a few neighbors outside by now, and one of them approached him.

"Are you okay?" his next-door neighbor asked.

"I think so," he said softly, as he made his way to the ditch.

He stopped in his tracks, when he saw just how bad his truck looked. It was on its side, with half of it basically gone, smashed into itself from where the mystery truck had crashed into it. He hurried to the truck, but no matter how fast he ran, he didn't seem to get there any faster. Everything was in slow motion, as he agonized over the fact that he could see she wasn't moving.

Briefly stopped by another neighbor who threw him a flashlight, he calmly jumped across the ditch and landed awkwardly on the top of the overturned truck. It slightly swayed and he swore at himself for doing something that could have put her in more danger.

"Call 911!" He yelled behind him.

"I already did," the neighbor answered.

Alan carefully crawled over the wreckage and made his way to the driver's window, that was pointing straight up toward the dark sky. Yelling Ellie's name the entire time, he took a deep breath and dared to peek inside.

There she was . . . seemingly unconscious, leaning against the steering wheel, her seatbelt still holding her in place in the driver's seat. It looked like she had gripped the steering wheel as the accident had occurred since one of her arms was entangled with it.

"Ellie?"

He said her name so quietly, he could just barely hear himself say it. He cleared his throat and said it again, a little louder.

"Ellie?"

"How is she?" One of the neighbors asked, standing beside the ditch.

"I-I don't know. She's not . . . she's not moving," he said softly. He reached his arm into the truck and gently touched her face. She woke up instantly.

"Ellie?" he said again.

She looked at him. It didn't seem like she was in any pain, but it also didn't look like she was fully alert. Then, as if it happened in stages right in front of him, she began to remember what had happened. With each second, she became increasingly alarmed, until finally she was fully alert and aware of what was hurting her. She began to fidget around in the truck, trying to get out.

"Hold on, hold on. Help is coming. Don't move too much. You could fall right to the bottom."

She looked away from him, turning her head in the opposite direction. Seeing for the first time how far the passenger side door looked to be from where she was suspended, she panicked.

Swinging her head back toward him, she cried out, "Get me out of here!"

"Okay, okay. Calm down, Ellie. Are you hurt anywhere?" he asked, looking around the truck, trying to figure out a way to get her out of it. Her right arm was stuck in the mangled steering wheel, and her left leg looked to be trapped in the buckled front panel of the truck. It wasn't going to be easy getting her out of there.

Fixated on her seatbelt, she didn't bother to answer his question. He grabbed her free hand, as she was trying to unbuckle it.

"Don't do that. You'll fall," he said quietly.

"I don't care! I want out of here!" She screamed at him, her voice breaking as she tried so very hard not to cry.

He was going to try and talk her into being more reasonable, but then something got his attention. He looked around uneasily, as the undeniable fumes began to invite their way into the cabin of the truck.

"Gasoline," Ellie whispered, her fear at very high levels. Grabbing his shirt with her left hand she pleaded, "Alan, get me out of here. I don't want to burn alive. Get me out of here now!"

After prying her hand from his shirt, Alan turned to look at the neighbor standing nearby.

"When did you call 911?" he shouted.

"As soon as it happened," he answered.

Looking back into the truck, he quickly studied the situation with great concern.

"We need to get your arm out," he stated.

"Just pull it out, I don't care!" She shouted.

"You'll break it."

"I don't care!" She repeated, beginning to hyperventilate, "Just get me out of here!"

"Okay. I'm working on it," he whispered, "You need to calm down," he said, as he began to work on freeing her arm, "Screaming at me isn't helping."

She winced when he moved the steering wheel in a certain way, causing him to stop.

"Alan!" One of the neighbors shouted.

He craned his neck to look.

"Fire! There's a fire starting near the bottom!"

Glancing back inside the truck, Alan yelled to anyone, close enough to hear him.

"I need a crowbar!"

A few neighbors ran off in different directions. When he turned back toward Ellie, she was trying to unbuckle the seatbelt again. Thankfully, she wasn't able to reach over to her right side and adequately push the release button with her left hand, so he had time to reach in and grab her arm. She pushed him away and yelled something to him in desperation, but he didn't hear it because one of the neighbors had shown up again.

"Here's a crowbar!" someone from the increasing crowd yelled.

Alan stretched down and grabbed the crowbar and wasted no time maneuvering himself farther into the truck. He hooked the crowbar to a section of the bent steering wheel and pushed down on it, gritting his teeth from the brut force he was using.

"It's okay, Ellie. I'm getting you out of here," he whispered, as the steering wheel began to straighten out under the pressure of the crowbar.

Ellie sighed with a tremendous amount of relief, as she pulled her arm away from the steering wheel. She glanced down and saw the small flames below. She reached for the seatbelt again, but Alan was in the way now.

"Hold on," he said, glancing at the fire the same way she had, "Can you wrap your arms around my neck?"

She nodded as a tear ran down her face. She gripped him tightly and closed her eyes, wincing from the obvious pain in her right arm. He placed one arm under her legs and the other around her back.

"Okay, here we go," he announced, taking a deep breath, hoping that her leg would come free easily.

Making sure he had a firm grip on her, he reached around her waist and unbuckled the seatbelt. The belt flipped in the air and hit him in the forehead, as she began to fall to the fire started below. The intenseness of the situation blocked out any pain he should have been feeling, so he was able to maintain his grip and keep her from falling.

Lifting her up with all of his might, he was finally able to get her head and shoulders clear of the wreckage. She opened her eyes at that moment and began to help, letting him go and latching onto anything she could find. He reached back inside and gently lifted her legs out of harm's way, being especially careful with the leg that had been trapped by the frame of the truck. Looking at her briefly, he smiled at her when her eyes had finally rested on his own.

The smile faded quickly.

The truck began to sway in the ditch, creaking and then finally surrendering its fight to stay on its side. Holding Ellie's hand, Alan leaped off the truck with her quickly mimicking his actions. The truck fell backwards, turning completely upside down.

The duo had made it to the edge of the ditch, where a few helpful neighbors pulled on their clothes, stopping them from falling into it. Alan wasn't sure how many people were pushing and pulling them to safety, but he was certainly very thankful for their quick response. Thirty seconds later, the truck exploded in the ditch, causing everyone nearby to shield their heads.

After the initial explosion had died down, Alan took Ellie to their house and carefully helped her sit on the porch. The whole accident happened only two doors down from where they lived. About a dozen onlookers joined them.

Looking up into Alan's eyes, Ellie could see that he looked on the verge of tears. At that moment, her involuntary shaking made her realize just how emotionally unstable she felt, too. She reached out to him, which triggered him to take her in his arms and embrace her. Being very gentle at first, they tightened their grips on each other, relieved to both be safe and sound. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she held him as close as possible, instantly easing her peace of mind after such an ordeal.

"Could someone find a blanket?" he asked the worried crowd.

Someone hurried onto the porch and tried the front door.

"It's locked," the woman said, still trying to turn the doorknob.

Alan almost laughed.

"The keys are . . . in the car," he said.

"I'll get one from my house," the neighbor stated, as she rushed to her house next door.

Moments later, the neighbor had returned and someone was draping a large grey blanket over them. After a few minutes of just holding each other, Alan released Ellie and began to check her over, looking for any serious injuries. She took him by the arm.

"I'm okay, Alan," she said, her voice slightly trembling.

He smiled wearily, moving a few strands of blonde hair from her face.

"What happened?" he finally asked.

Ellie took a few deep breaths, trying to calm her nerves.

"I don't know. I turned and all of a sudden there were these headlights staring at me."

As she finished the sentence, they could hear sirens coming closer and closer.

"When I turned onto the street, the guy was running into you again," Alan mentioned.

"You saw him?"

"No, not really. It was definitely a man. He had a beard, but I couldn't see any other distinct features."

Ellie glanced at some of the people.

"Anyone see him?"

Some people shook their heads no, while others just looked down at the ground.

"No one saw the guy?" Ellie questioned. After no one answered, "Anyone get a license plate number?"

Again, no one said a thing. She looked back at Alan.

"You didn't see a plate number either?" she asked in disbelief.

"No, I didn't," he answered.

"Why not? You were right there."

"His car was hit, too," a neighbor spoke up.

That's when she noticed her mangled Taurus in the middle of the street. Looking back at Alan, for the first time she noticed the cut on his forehead. She felt foolish for not seeing all of it before and figuring out things for herself.

"Oh, my God," she said softly.

Without thinking, she reached out and touched his face. He winced and took her hand in his, kissing it gently, just as two police cars turned into the subdivision.

A very tall and physically fit man stood in front of the predetermined meeting point, waiting rather impatiently for his payoff. It had been several hours since the job had been done, so the man wanted the money he knew he deserved. A brand new black 1993 Mercedes-Benz E-Class pulled up along the curb and the driver's window came down. Greg Diamond was alone in the car.

"Did you do it?" Greg asked.

The man smiled, "Yes."

"That is good news. Very good. But," Greg began to show some anger, ". . . I had you tailed."

The man's smile faded. "Why?"

"Look at yourself," Greg said, gesturing toward the man's clothing and appearance, "You're a bum. I couldn't give you a hefty amount of money without knowing that you actually did what I had instructed."

"No, I suppose not."

"And you didn't do what I had instructed," Greg pointed out.

"No, there was a change in the plans," the man admitted.

"I'm assuming you got rid of the stolen truck that you used for the job?"

"Yes."

"It's my understanding that Alan Grant wasn't even present."

"No, he wasn't. But I didn't realize that until after the accident."

"And you were going to just take your money without mentioning that single important fact?"

"Quite frankly . . . yes," the man answered. "And besides, he showed up at the end. So, technically, he was there."

Greg smiled at his honesty.

"I like your spirit. So, I'll tell you what. I'll give you half of what was agreed on, since you were able to scare Ellie Sattler."

Greg handed the man a small package and then started to roll up the window. As the man turned to leave, Greg stopped rolling up the window and called out to him once more. The man looked at him.

"If you are caught, remember . . . you don't know me and you did this on your own. The money will only stay in your family if you keep your mouth shut."

"I know."

"I think it would be better if you didn't do anything to get yourself caught, though. Don't you?"

"Yes," the man answered.

"That means not deciding to act any further on your own. Background checks have made me fully aware of how you have acted in the past."

The man looked down, mildly embarrassed that Greg had known about his past assaults on women. Then, he accepted that he was just a pervert that needed some quick money.

"I didn't realize that I would be in such close proximity to such a beautiful lady."

"I didn't realize that you could use such grand words. How very untypical of you," Greg commented.

The man did nothing more than smile, as he turned around to leave.

"I'd like to give you a bit of advice, if you don't mind?" Greg said to his back.

The man looked at him again.

"Find some other female to terrorize."

The man continued to stare, tucking the money into his coat.

"If you feel the need to . . . fulfill your sick fantasies with this certain woman, I'm going to have to intervene."

"Intervene?"

"Yes. You know," Greg said, sighing, "come between you and your idea of fun. There are plenty of different ways to do just that. For example, you could become poor white trash again very quickly."

"Okay, okay," the man said, holding up his hands half way, "Point taken. I won't bother her."

"For your sake, I hope you're telling the truth."

Deciding not to wait for a response, Greg Diamond finished rolling up the car window and concealed himself behind the tinted glass. The black Mercedes, which he had "borrowed" from his father's vast collection of automobiles, pulled away and disappeared into the night.

He hadn't given the plan enough thought. That's what he finally determined. He had wanted to start his revenge on a small scale, by destroying Grant's truck and hopefully hurting him in the process. Surely a nice little untraceable way to upset the man's life, but Grant hadn't even been in the truck at the time of the botched accident. The fool had run into the truck at the worst time and had succeeded in having himself possibly spotted by a dozen or so people. At least the truck was disabled, so Greg's plan had semi-worked.

And now with the added problem with this bum and his willingness to assault women, Greg felt he needed to put an end to that before it even began. He didn't really care if Sattler was assaulted . . . he would have slept just fine knowing that, as the woman had done her fair share to him. What he was worried about was this bum being caught there and then spilling all he knew about Greg. The man didn't know his name, but he did know his face, so he needed to instill some fear into the bum. Satisfied that he was successful for now, he smiled slightly.

He fiddled around with the rest of the money sitting on the passenger seat of the Mercedes. His father would be unhappy to find out that he had "borrowed" both the car and the money, so he would have to be careful not to get caught with either.

July 6, 1993 - Tuesday

Ellie walked out onto the porch, stretching as far as her body would allow. It was only the day after the fender bender, so she was still very sore. Looking toward the road, she could see Alan's scorched truck in the ditch, upside down. Shivering over the thought of being trapped the night before, she pulled one of the small padded rocking chairs out of the corner of the porch, deciding to try and relax. She sighed and slowly sank into the old comfortable thing. She quietly sat there and closed her eyes, rocking gently back and forth, listening to the birds singing in the neighborhood.

She had the house to herself. It had taken several long talks to get Alan to go to work and leave her there, but being in solitude was what she felt she needed, so he had finally agreed.

A car door slammed somewhere close causing her to open her eyes. Looking for the source of the door slam for several seconds, she didn't see movement, except for a motorcycle going by. Finally giving up, she yawned and closed her eyes again.

Walking up to the passenger-side door of the Taurus, Alan placed his hand on the door handle.

"Where are you going?"

Alan turned around and saw Rob standing in front of the damaged car.

"Home to check on Ellie."

"I'm sure she's fine," Rob remarked.

"I know that."

"Then why are you going?"

Rob seemed a little too interested.

"Why are you asking?"

Rob laughed and walked in the opposite direction from him, looking at the driver's side of the car.

"Phew, there's a lot of damage here," he said.

"Why are you asking?" Alan repeated, looking over the roof of the car toward his secretive friend.

Rob was reaching out, running his hand along the very large dent that caved-in the driver's door.

"Asking what?"

"Rob. Diversion isn't your strong suit."

"Okay. So, she called over here to see how things were going."

"And?"

"And she talked to Carl mostly, but he had to leave, so he gave the phone to me."

Alan stared at him, waiting for more.

"So . . . to make a long story short . . . "

"Oh, please do," Alan added.

"She asked me to see if I could persuade you to stay here and not worry about checking on her. And give her some well deserved time away from your sorry ass."

Alan frowned.

"I added that last part in there for humor."

"Yeah."

". . . and you're not laughing. So, I guess I'll shut up now," Rob concluded.

Alan opened the passenger's door and got inside. He had cleaned up most of the glass before driving it to work, but there was still some in there, so he was careful. He made his way across the seat until he was in front of the steering wheel.

Rob had walked around the back of the car, and then toward the door Alan had just opened. It was still open, so he leaned over and peered inside.

"Are you coming?" Alan asked.

"I thought you'd never ask," Rob joked, as he got inside and closed the car door.

Alan started the car, but it didn't turn over. After trying again, there was still nothing but a clicking noise.

"Sounds like you have a battery problem," Rob observed, laughing.

Alan let the keys hang in the ignition and glared at him.

"Hmmm . . . okay . . . so, you already knew that," Rob said, uneasily.

Alan continued to glare.

"I'm always stating the obvious," Rob added.

Alan said nothing.

"I'm Captain Obvious," Rob said, holding up his hands triumphantly.

Still, Alan said nothing.

"Sorry," Rob sighed.

"Are you done now?"

"Yep," Rob answered quickly. "Want to take my truck?"

"What a good idea," Alan said, rolling his eyes.

Ellie opened her eyes and decided her time could be better spent doing a little paper work. She got up with the intention of using the office computer, but then thought it would be a better idea to just bring out a notebook and handwrite some things, since it was such a nice afternoon.

She walked into the office, said a quick hello to Jack, and then walked toward the computer desk. Jack was only supposed to be a temporary guest, but it turned out that Margaret had moved into a senior citizen apartment and she wasn't allowed pets. Since she had no immediate family, Ellie had offered to keep Jack with the promise that Margaret could come to visit him when she had the time. Of course, having a permanent guest didn't sit well with Alan at first, but Jack was growing on him. She had even witnessed him talking and laughing at Jack once or twice, so all was not lost.

Passing the mirror that was hanging up on the nearest wall, Ellie caught her reflection. She stopped and came back to the mirror, glancing in it and noticing the bruising on her face and arms. There had only been a few scrapes and scratches the night before, but now they had turned into very ugly-colored bruises. She shook her head, as she gathered her notebook and pen and left the office, walking toward the kitchen.

She grabbed some apple juice out of the refrigerator and smiled as she held up the container. Earlier that morning, she had promised Alan she would eat and drink heathy and she was keeping that promise . . . sort of. She grabbed a chocolate donut on the way out, too, smiling like a child who knew they had done something bad.

Walking toward the front door, she had her head down while she thumbed through the notebook. Suddenly, she felt like someone was there, so she looked up.

A strange bearded man stood on the porch, peering into the house. His clothes were not very clean and his short sleeved black shirt had quite a few tears in it. What had caught Ellie's immediate attention though, was the very anxious look on his face.

"Can I help you?" she asked, instantly seeing that something didn't look right in the man's eyes.

The man nodded and smiled evilly. Unlike his unkept appearance, his teeth were clean and sparkling, which made the smile all the more unsettling. He reached out and opened the screen door to the house. Ellie didn't have much time to think, as the man began to rush toward her. She was in the middle of the living room when he closed in on the space that was between them.

She threw her notebook at him and gripped the pen like a weapon. He easily ducked out of the way of the flying notebook and then smiled again, as he glanced at the pen she was holding.

"I love a struggle," he teased, taking quick well-timed swipes toward her hand.

Greg Diamond had lost track of the bum at a red light. He cursed as he began to speed down the two lane highway, looking for the man's new mode of transportation. That morning, the bum had purchased an expensive motorcycle and Greg had been watching him all afternoon, hoping the man would heed his warnings. It didn't look like he was going to do that, though.

The man had spotted Greg following him. When the motorcycle came to a slow stop at a red light, the man gunned the accelerator and blasted through the intersection, maneuvering down a narrow alley. Greg still couldn't believe how easy it was for the man to give him the slip.

After cruising down the small stretch of highway twice, thinking that he may have just been hiding somewhere close by, Greg gave up on the search. Cursing again at his own foolishness for following so close behind, Greg made his way to the Grant home, which was only a few miles away.

The man continued to taunt Ellie, as he slowly closed the front door and locked it.

"And to think, I was just going to hang out and wait for an opportunity," the man began.

"What do you want?" Ellie asked, backing out of the living room.

"Imagine my surprise when I found you home," he commented, ignoring the question. "Alone!"

"Stay away from me," she demanded, but the strong voice she intended to use faltered near the end.

"Things are, indeed, more fun for me this way. But it would be easier for you if you would just put down the pen and surrender peacefully."

Looking around the room, she tried to concentrate so that she could find a way out of the situation. Since no one was going to come to her rescue, she needed to figure out something. The back door . . . in the kitchen. She believed she could make it out before he would be able to do anything.

She turned and sprinted toward the kitchen.

Only a few blocks from his street, Alan craned his neck to the left, toward a car that was getting ready to turn onto the highway before Rob's truck.

"What is it?" Rob asked.

"I think that's Greg Diamond," he said in a surprised tone.

Rob watched intently as the white late model pickup turned onto the road in front of them. Instinctively, he slowed down his truck while trying to get a glance at the other driver.

"I think you're right," he said, nodding. He looked at Alan, "What do you want to do?"

"I want to ask him why he's so damn close to my house," Alan answered matter-of-factly. Thinking about it longer, he changed his mind, "On second thought, let's just follow him at a distance. He didn't recognize your truck."

Rob nodded and they cautiously followed the troublemaker.

Ellie made it to the kitchen. She raced past the counter and toward the door. She tried to open the door, but it was locked. After fumbling with the lock, she went for the screen door. She ran out of time. The man grabbed her, spun her around, and pushed her into the counter. If the back door would have been open, and she only had to contend with the screen door, she had a very good chance of escaping. Things didn't work out, though, as she found herself on the floor.

"Too bad that door was locked, eh!" the man teased. "I tried to come in that door, myself. No luck."

She glanced toward the phone, making that her second option, but she needed to detain the man somehow. Leaping up she lifted the pen and stabbed him in the shoulder with it. He groaned and tried to slap her, but she flinched out of the way, causing him to swing at nothing but air. She turned and ran for the phone, reaching it in just seconds. She managed to get the '9' dialed into the phone, before the man recovered and ripped the entire phone from the wall. He took a swing at her, but she ducked, falling to the tiled floor. She made the best of it, as she began to crawl out of the kitchen.

The man didn't seem to be following her very close, which alarmed her a little bit. Not daring to look, she heard the unmistakable sound of one of the butcher knives being removed from the wooden knife holder.

"I'm growing tired of this game," the man said in anger, pulling the pen from his shoulder and throwing it to the floor.

Seconds later, she heard him pull a second knife from the holder.

To Rob and Alan's surprise and dismay, they followed Greg to Alan's street and watched him slow down when he neared his house. Alan was out of Rob's truck before it had even stopped and marched down the street. To Rob's astonishment, and after some yelling and semi-crazy behavior, Alan was able to get Greg to stop his truck. Rob stopped and got out, catching up with Alan before he made it to Greg.

"What were you planning on doing here?" Rob asked, worried.

"I'm going to talk to him," Alan answered, focusing on Greg, who had stopped about three houses away from the Grant home.

"You're not going to kick his ass, right? Because . . . I can't believe I'm saying this . . . because that wouldn't be very smart at this point."

"Rob, get out of the way."

Rob frowned and did what his friend had asked. Alan hurried around him and approached Greg, who was just opening his truck door.

"What do you want?" Greg asked in an angered tone, as he stood up.

"What are you doing here?" Alan questioned, with Rob right beside him.

Greg had a choice to make. He could tell the truth and possibly save Ellie from any harm that he strongly believed was happening as they stood there, and in the process, implicate himself in the whole ordeal. Or, he could lie and rile up Alan, allowing bad things to happen to her, and drive off with the hope of no one ever knowing how involved he was in all of this. There was really no difficulty making the decision when he weighed the two choices. He simply did what was best for himself.

"The last time I looked, it was a free damn country," he stated, slamming his truck door in disgust.

Alan stood there, stewing with anger for several seconds, and then he reacted. He took one step forward and decked Greg as hard as he could, making the taller man fall onto the pavement.

Ellie had crawled back into the living room. She got to her feet and made a run for the front door, but was stopped in her tracks. The man had thrown the smaller knife at her, whizzing it by her head and sticking into the wall next to the door. She tried to scream, but the man was already behind her, wrapping his free hand around her mouth.

"We're going to have a lot of fun . . . you and me," he whispered to her.

He began to drag her toward the hallway. She couldn't do much to stop him, since he had a butcher knife to her throat and she was feeling very helpless as she awaited for the inevitable.

As she was almost out of the living room, she could hear people yelling outside. A renewed hope flowed through her, as she struggled with the man again. The knife cut into her throat a little and that's when she decided to do more than just struggle with him.

Using her leg, she kicked backwards and struck the man in the crotch. Hearing him cough and groan in pain was music to her ears as she managed to get away, but he was blocking her escape route to the front door. She headed for the front window to look outside. There were people arguing in the middle of the street and she was confused, but beyond relieved, to see that one of the men was Alan. She started to open the window and that's when the man tackled her from behind.

"Ala-" She tried to scream, but the man took the breath from her body when he threw her to the floor.

The man flipped Ellie on her back and positioned himself on top of her. Forcing her arms above her head, he pinned her to the floor.

"I'd like to warn you that I have no room preference. This is just as good as any," he huffed.

Greg looked up and saw Alan standing over him, hitting his fist into his other hand.

"Get up!" he yelled to the ex-student.

Rob was standing next to Greg's truck now, looking around to see if people in the neighborhood were watching. Many of them were at work, but there were a few people staring out of their windows.

"Alan," Rob whispered, trying to talk sense into him, "There are people around. People are watching."

Alan ignored him.

"Why in the hell are you driving down my street?" he yelled to Greg.

Greg stood up, nursing his bleeding lip. He glanced around and saw that the bum's motorcycle was parked in front of the house next door to Grant's house. Now that he was sure of a threat inside the house, the choice he had made was a little tougher to advocate. He decided to stick with his plan, so he continued to try and stall the two men.

"I can drive wherever I want to drive. There's no law against driving here!" He shouted so that people could hear him.

This was not going to happen. Pure and simple. Ellie wouldn't allow this to happen when help was so close to the house. After trying to kick him again, she became slightly discouraged, as he had been expecting that, so he easily stopped her. Fright was increasingly being replaced with anger, as she reached out and scratched his eyes. He winced and grasped at both eyes, yelling something she didn't understand. Then, she tried to knee him in the crotch, but he deflected the shot and slapped her again. He grabbed her hair and dragged her toward the knife that was on the floor. He grasped the knife and pressed it against her throat for the second time.

Feeling the blade digging into her skin, she stopped struggling, fearing that he would kill her right then and there. He looked at her and smiled, carefully looking over her entire body as he held her on the floor. When he seemed to lessen his grip on the knife, she attempted one last effort to escape.

"HELP!" she yelled.

The man instantly covered her mouth and she preceded to bite his hand and yell some more.

"ALAN! Help!" she yelled a few times before he covered her mouth again.

Alan had been in the middle of yelling something at Greg, when he heard the faint cries for help.

"Was that Ellie?" Rob asked, looking toward the house.

Alan turned back toward Greg, who was smiling.

"Maybe you should go attend to the little misses. Sounds like she may have a problem," Greg taunted.

Alan punched him again, and this time the force of the punch spun Greg around, causing him to accidently hit the large side mirror on his truck. He was knocked out cold.

Not waiting around to see how Greg faired from the attack, Alan sprinted toward his house, with Rob close behind.

"I'll go around the back!" Rob yelled.

Alan made it to the front door and tried to open it. It was locked.

"Ellie?" he shouted, frantically looking for the keys in his pocket.

Ellie sighed with relief when she heard his voice at the door. The man instantly moved away from her.

"Alan, help!" she repeated.

The man stood in the middle of the living room, not sure of what to do. He could either run, or he could take care of this little interruption and get back to what it was that he really desired to do.

Seconds later, Alan had the door open. He stepped inside and saw Ellie on the floor, alone.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

She nodded as she looked around the room.

"There's someone here. Some guy. He's got a knife," she whispered.

Alan nodded silently and helped her get to her feet. She was wobbly, but she was able to stand as she latched onto him for support. Turning to look at Alan, she saw the man come out of his hiding place and run toward them, the knife raised in an attack position.

"Alan!" she yelled, pulling him out of the way.

It wasn't necessary though. Rob had come through the back screen door, grabbed a frying pan . . . and walloped the man with it, knocking him to the floor.

The man's knife fell from his hand and Rob jumped on him, punching him in the face repeatedly.

"Attacking women," he said between punches, "isn't very man-like, you stupid son of a bitch!"

The man was barely breathing, much less conscious. Alan pulled Rob off the guy.

Rob's eyes looked crazed as he stood up. He very easily could have killed the man who had harmed one of his good friends.

"Calm down, Rob," Alan pleaded, checking to see if the guy was still breathing.

After hearing Alan's voice, Rob started to come back to reality. His breathing began to stabilize and the anger in his eyes lessened some.

"If you kill him, he can't be arrested," Ellie said softly.

Alan and Rob looked in her direction. She wasn't very stable looking. It looked as if she wanted to break down and cry, but then she was refusing to do so.

"What happened?" Alan asked.

"He walked right into the house and tried to . . . assault me," she said, not really wanting to use the 'rape' word out loud.

"I'm calling the police," Rob stated.

"The phone in the kitchen is broke. Use the one in the office," Ellie said, shivering at the thought of what could have just happened to her.

Rob nodded and walked into the office.

"Who were you arguing with outside?" she asked Alan.

"Greg Diamond," he answered.

"Greg's here? Why?" Ellie asked, running her hand along the small cuts on her neck.

"I don't know yet, but it looks as though he had something to do with the accident and," he gestured toward the man on the floor, "that guy."

Alan stepped closer to her and leaned down a little bit to get a closer look at her cuts. He gently touched her neck.

"How bad is it?" She whispered, lifting up her neck and wincing.

"One of these cuts is bleeding, but the rest are just scratches," he answered.

"I can't believe I almost let some crazed lunatic get the better of me."

"Me neither," Alan said sincerely. "You're a crazed lunatic yourself when you get angry."

Ellie smiled at his attempt at humor and embraced him.

Outside, Greg Diamond began to wake up. Groggily, he reached up toward the truck to latch onto something to help him to his feet. He grabbed the very same side mirror that had knocked him out and lifted himself up, groaning. In the not so far distance, he could hear police sirens.

He glanced over toward the Grant home to see if anyone was watching him. He didn't see anyone, but he wasn't seeing much of anything, as his world continued to spin around him. He opened his truck door, slowly got in, and quietly closed the door. He went to start it and that's when he realized the keys weren't in the ignition.

Suddenly, his truck door opened, causing him to jump. He turned toward the door and saw Rob standing there, smiling. He was playfully tossing keys in his hand. Greg's truck keys.

"Missing something?" Rob curiously asked.

Greg's shoulder's slumped, as he looked in his rear view mirror and saw the red and blue flashing lights turning into the subdivision.

July 8, 1993 - Thursday

For the third straight night, Ellie was startled out of a sound sleep by the voice of the stranger that had attempted to assault her. She laid very still in bed, trying not to disturb Alan yet again, but she wasn't doing well emotionally. After having the same dream over and over, she was growing weary of even trying to sleep at all. She would see partial visions of her father's funeral, combined with the headlights violently swerving toward her during the collision a week ago, followed by that haunting laugh of the stranger behind the whole mess. This particular dream was different because, even after she knew she was awake, she could still feel the presence of the man staring at her. She slowly propped herself up on her elbows and dared to glance across the room and toward the doorway.

Standing in the doorway, in the shadows, she saw the man looking at her. He smiled at her and in the darkness she could see only his pearly-white teeth, gleaming at her evilly from across the bedroom. Her breathing came to a halt as she let out a gasp and then stifled a panicked scream. She rubbed her eyes, trying to get the image out of her head, and then glanced back over there.

He was gone. She sighed with relief, getting ready to lie back down. A hand rested on her shoulder and, in her current state, it made her jump and let out a quick, low scream. Immediately, she felt stupid as it was obvious to any sane person that the hand belonged to the man sleeping next to her.

"You okay?" Alan asked.

She answered quickly, trying to stop the questions that were sure to follow.

"I'm fine. Sorry about that. Another bad dream."

He was finally getting used to the dark and he could see that she kept looking toward the bedroom door, so he looked as well. Nothing there. He was thinking about letting it go and allowing his body to go back to sleep, but her persistence in looking toward the door had him curious.

"Something wrong with the door?" he asked, yawning.

She had been looking toward the door right then and had to make a conscious effort to glance toward him.

"I'm not sure," she admitted. "I'm seeing things. I'm sure of it."

"Seeing what things?"

"At least I hope I'm dreaming it," she added, not listening to him at all.

"What are you seeing by the door?"

"Him," she answered, shivering at the thought.

"I'll go take a look around," Alan said, pushing the covers away.

Ellie reached over and grabbed his bare arm. The man had seemed so real to her. She was almost certain he wasn't there, but there was that slight chance that there was a man in the house staring at her.

"Alan, don't."

"It's okay. I'll take a quick look around and then you'll be able to sleep more calmly."

She let go of his arm, "Okay," she said softly.

He got out of bed, quickly slipped on a pair of jeans that were draped across the top of the dresser, and then moved toward the door.

Ellie remained in bed, nervously watching his every move. He made it to the doorway and peered into the hallway. He flipped on the light switch located directly across from the doorway, casting some light into the bedroom. Looking to the right and then to the left, he turned back toward her.

"There's nothing here."

As he said the words, she didn't even realize that she had been holding her breath. When he gave the all-clear announcement, she exhaled in great relief as he started to walk back into the bedroom.

He had left the hallway light on. She was about to suggest turning it off, when a blurred figure came running up behind him.

"Alan!" She screamed, sitting up in the bed.

He whirled around and looked his would-be attacker right in the eye. The man produced a butcher knife and lunged at Alan, who grabbed onto the man and pushed him backwards. The man hit the wall in the hallway and instantly bounced back, attacking him again. This time he struck Alan in the chest with the large knife. Alan gasped for breath and fell against the door of the bedroom, producing an echo from the door hitting the wall so hard.

"NOOO!" Ellie screamed, closing her eyes for a second.

"Ellie!" She heard him yell to her.

After hearing his voice, she reopened her eyes and was shocked at what she saw. He was in the bed, leaning over her with a concerned look on his face. He didn't look hurt. He didn't look on the brink of death.

"Alan?" she whispered in complete and utter disbelief.

He smiled, but the concern in his eyes was still there. He was sitting on top of the covers and was wearing a pair of jeans. His chest was bare and there were no signs of knife wounds or blood.

"Yeah, it's me Alan," he answered softly.

She was finally starting to understand what was going on, as she further awoke from the nightmare. The fear still lingering in her subconscious, her eyes darted to the bedroom doorway. There was nothing there. She looked back at Alan and reached out, grabbing him tightly and wrapping her arms around his neck. He held her shaking body in his arms, helping her sit up.

"It's okay, it was just a dream," he whispered in her ear.

She began to cry, her head resting on his bare shoulder. She couldn't help but notice that the hallway light was illuminated.

"Why is the light on?" she asked, still frantically looking around the room for the man she knew had to be hiding in there somewhere.

"I got up to get a glass of water, so I turned on the light. Then I decided to do a little paperwork. I must have forgotten to turn it off. Sorry."

"It's okay," she said through a few tears.

"Then, just a few seconds ago, I heard you scream in your sleep, so I ran in here," he added, still holding her tightly and rocking her back and forth. He could feel the shaking subside a little bit now, which alleviated some of his concern.

"That man," she began to say. She took a deep breath and continued to hold onto him, "That man was here . . . and he killed you. It was so real, Alan."

"There's no one here, Ellie. Just you and I." She continued to cry. He moved his hands back and forth, gently across her back. "You want me to take another look around the house?"

"No!" she shouted adamantly, squeezing him harder.

"Okay, okay. I won't," he said, again whispering in her ear, trying to soothe her anxiety. "That guy is rotting in jail now, he's not going to bother you anymore."

A long silence passed between them and Alan thought she may have fallen asleep in the embrace. He freed one of his arms and readjusted her pillow, gently lowering her body to the bed and placing her head on it. Her eyes were closed and her breathing was soft and stable again, so he began to get out of the bed.

With her eyes still closed, she grabbed his arm, "Where are you going?"

"To turn off the light," he softly answered.

"Could you just leave it on? I'll feel better," she said. It was mostly a lie. She didn't want him to go anywhere near the bedroom doorway.

"Okay," he whispered.

Deciding he would organize his scattered paperwork tomorrow, he laid down next to her, adjusting the covers over his body. She still had a grip on his arm and when he was situated, she rolled over on her side and extended her arm across his chest. Seconds later, her head was resting on his shoulder.

"I wish I could help in some way," he whispered, gently kissing her forehead.

"You're helping right now," she commented, closing her eyes and savoring the moment of peace. She grasped his hand and squeezed it extra tight, an act that allowed herself to relax some. "I wish these awful dreams would stop."

"They will. Just give it some time, Ellie. It hasn't even been a week."

"I know."