Chapter 4
Thursday, July 17th, 1986
Hill Valley
10: 23 A. M.
Well, this is it.
Clara stared nervously at the gates of Oak Park Cemetery, twisting her hands together. Doc was behind them, visiting Marty's grave again. She had followed him discreetly in a cab, hoping to get some answers to her nagging questions. Mainly how any amount of grief cause Doc to behave like he had.
After Doc had taken off, Clara had hoped that life would be better at home. But somehow her husband's invisible presence had permeated the house, keeping them all on edge. Jules and Verne were always on the lookout for Doc, sticking close to the house. Whenever they went out, they held hands. Clara found that she jumped at every little noise and was more irritable.
Occasionally they had seen Doc in the street. He never failed to give them a look that suggested he thought of them as less than the scum on his shoes. Clara had also found out that he had started spreading some very nasty rumors about them. Luckily, no one believed them because Doc was spreading them. It still hurt, though.
She slipped past the gates and went searching for Marty's grave. Hopefully once I hear him talking to Marty, a few things will be cleared up.
The grave wasn't too hard to find. Doc was kneeling on it, talking to the base of the tombstone. Very carefully, she crept closer to listen.
"Is that all right, Marty?" Doc was asking. "Will you love me again if I do that?" He paused, listening to a reply that only he could hear. "Trust me, Marty, they'll suffer. Tonight, after supper, I'll surprise them at the house. I'll force my way in. And, once I have them trapped, I'll slit their throats," he whispered intently, drawing a large knife from his pocket. "So the hot blood courses all over their clothes. It'll be fun to see them twitch, won't it?"
Clara turned dead white. A scream rose in her throat, which she barely choked down. Her Emmett wasn't in mourning at all.
Her Emmett was insane.
Doc cocked his head. "Would you prefer me to stab them, Marty? I'll do whatever you want me to do." Another pause, briefer this time. "Slitting their throats is good. Oh, I'm so happy, Marty." He hugged the tombstone. "They'll be dead, and you won't have to be mad at me anymore."
Filled with revulsion, Clara backed away. Her foot descended on a large dry branch, snapping it in two. Doc's head jerked up. "Who's there?" he demanded, his fingers tightening on the knife's handle.
Clara froze, trying not even to breathe. Doc stood up slowly, looking around. His eyes fell on Clara almost immediately. "You," he hissed, his face turning red. "Guess one of them's going to die early, Marty." He lunged at her.
Clara scrambled to her feet and bolted. Doc got a mouthful of dirt, but quickly recovered and gave chase. "You can't get away, you bitch! I'll have your blood if it's the last thing I do!"
Thanks to Doc's untimely trip, Clara got to the gates first. She stopped for a second to catch her breath, wondering what on earth she was going to do. Her eyes fell on Doc's van. Before she really knew what she was doing, she had leapt in. The scientist obviously hadn't expected to stay here long -- the keys were still in the ignition. Summoning up memories of watching her husband drive and of the few lessons he had given her, she managed to start the engine and pull out.
Doc arrived just as she was leaving. He cursed loudly and turned his knife on a nearby tree. He partly regained his presence of mind when the knife became stuck in the trunk. He pulled it free with an effort. A stream of sap began to ooze from the "wound." Doc smiled at it. "I hope her blood flows just like that." Hiding the knife in his pocket again, he started looking for a payphone so he could call a cab.
Thursday, July 17th
10: 42 A. M.
Clara managed to get both herself and the van home in one piece. Shaking, she ran into the house. "Jules! Verne! Come quick!"
The two kids immediately appeared before her. "Mama? What's the matter?" Verne asked, staring at her pale face.
"We have to get out of here right away," she said, pulling them close. "You were right, Jules. That man isn't your father."
"Told you so."
"Yes, honey, I know. And now we have to leave before he finds us. He's a very bad man." She held them tight, beginning to cry. "Oh, my babies. . . ."
Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. Clara froze, clutching the boys to her chest. Could it be. . . ?
"Hello? Doc? Clara?"
Clara sighed in relief. Picking up Jules and Verne by the waist, she answered the door. "Lorraine, I am so happy to see you!"
Lorraine stared at Clara's face just like Verne had. "Clara, what's the matter? You look scared half to death!"
"It's Emmett." She put the kids down and leaned in closer so they wouldn't hear. "He's lost his mind, Lorraine. He's already slapped Jules, and now he's -- he wants to kill us, Lorraine! I caught him making the plans! It was a miracle I was able to outrun him. . . ."
Lorraine was open-mouthed. "Oh my God, you poor thing. I thought he was acting pretty strangely, but I had no idea that--" Her eyes filled with tears. "It's Marty, isn't it? He couldn't take the death."
"I'm sorry, Lorraine." The two women hugged. "Please, could you take Jules and Verne and hide them? I don't care so much about myself, but I'd hate to think I left my babies in danger." Her eyes were desperately pleading. "Please, Lorraine, I'm so frightened. . . ."
"Of course I'll take them, Clara. In fact, I can give them to George. He's going to Grass Valley in about a half-hour to talk to a bookstore owner about a signing. I'll have him take them along."
"Oh, thank you," Clara wept, managing the shadow of a smile. "Thank you so much." Wiping her eyes, she pushed her boys forward. "You two have to go with Lorraine now."
"I wanna stay with you," Verne protested, clinging to her legs.
"You can't, honey. Mama has to go get help so that bad man won't get us. You'll be safe with Lorraine."
Lorraine nodded, smiling. "Come on, kids. You want to go on a trip? George is going to a new town, and I bet he'll want company."
Reluctantly, Jules and Verne went over to Lorraine. "Be safe, Mama!" Jules told Clara.
Clara forced another shadowy smile. "Don't worry, Jules. Everything's going to be fine." I wish so much I could believe that myself.
Lorraine patted them both on the head, then leaned close to Clara. "Listen, once you talk to the police, come over to our place. I don't want you to have to stay anywhere alone."
"Okay. Thanks so much, Lorraine." She kissed her boys goodbye and watched as Lorraine led them to the car. "Be safe," she whispered after them. Then she locked up and made her way back to the garage. She planned to drive to the police station, so Doc couldn't get his hands on it and chase them. Steeling herself, she got back in the van.
Thursday, July 17th
10: 53 A. M.
Doc opened the door of the house, smiling. "Clara, dear? Jules? Verne? Daddy's home!" He casually strolled inside, looking in all the rooms. "Come on out, wherever you are. . . . Playing hide and seek with me? Okay, let's see how fast I can find you."
There was a whine from the bedroom, and Einstein padded out. Doc's smile grew brighter. "Einstein. Here, boy. Come here, Einy." He knelt down, held out his hands, and whistled. "Here, boy."
Einstein approached cautiously. He knew something wasn't right about his master. He paused just out of reach and gave a soft growl.
Doc acted hurt. "Einy, I'm your master! Don't you trust me? Come on, give me a kiss."
The dog finally drew closer. Doc patted his head, then looped his arm around Einstein's neck in a friendly manner. "Aww, there's a good boy," he praised, his other hand dipping into his pocket. "Such a good boy."
Einstein sensed what was about to happen just a split-second too late. Doc's knife slashed quickly across his throat, letting out a thick gush of blood. Doc pulled the twitching body onto his lap. He slammed the knife into Einstein's heart and twisted it. Slowly, the twitching stopped.
Doc dumped Einstein's body on the floor. "Sorry boy," he shrugged, not showing a bit of remorse. "I had to test my technique."
As he looked in the bedroom for his family, he heard the front door open again. "Hello? Anybody home?"
"Clara? Doc? Ya in?"
Doc frowned. That's Dave and Linda. Now what on earth would they want with Clara? Puzzled, he put the bloody knife away and went to greet his guests. "Hello Dave, hello Linda."
"Hi--" Dave's eyes bugged out as he caught sight of Doc. "Doc! What the hell happened to you?"
Doc stared at him, not comprehending. "What are you talking about?"
"Um -- you're all covered in blood," Linda pointed out, her face slightly green. "Are you hurt?"
"You could say that." Doc moved a step closer. "Why are you looking for Clara?"
The siblings glanced at each other. "We just were wondering if anybody was home," Linda said. "I think a doctor oughta see you. Bring your car around, Dave."
"The blood has nothing to do with my hurt." Doc's eyes narrowed suddenly in suspicion. "Why would you say Clara's name first? Why? Answer quick."
Linda backed up a little, feeling nervous. What's up with Doc? Something about him's really freaking me out.
Dave was apparently feeling the same way. "We -- we just did. We kinda wanted to talk to you about Marty, and we knew she'd been feeling bad lately. We wanted to help her."
Doc's face darkened with rage. "I don't believe this. Marty's own family. The McFlys would betray their own son. Lorraine and George want to help Clara, don't they? Keep her away from me so I can't get my revenge. Don't they?" He snarled menacingly.
Dave and Linda pressed against each other in the corner. "Mom didn't tell us," Dave said, shaking. "We honestly thought it would be good for everybody if we talked. What the hell is wrong with you?"
"The McFlys would betray their own son," Doc repeated. He looked up at the ceiling. "Did you hear that, Marty? Disgusting, isn't it." The siblings exchanged glances again, then attempted to sneak to the door. "I know. My thoughts exactly," Doc continued, yanking out the butcher knife.
Both Dave and Linda froze in shock when they saw the bloody knife. For Dave, the hesitation proved fatal. Doc lunged, plunging the knife into him again and again. "Die, you traitorous bastard! Die!!" Doc screamed, blood splattering all over him.
Linda was fixed to the spot, watching the blood fly. She knew she should be running, but she couldn't. "DAVID!" she shrieked, horrified. Desperate, she threw herself on Doc, hoping to knock him down or otherwise distract him.
She distracted him all right. Doc stabbed her in the stomach and threw her away. Crying, she started crawling to the door.
Doc finished Dave like he had Einstein, leaving him a bloody and gory mess. With a terrifying calmness, he got up and pulled Linda back inside the house. She screamed and clung to the doorframe for dear life. But Doc's strength, a mixture of years of black-smithing and madness, prevailed. He dragged Linda back to meet her fate.
Thursday, July 17th
11: 04 A. M.
Clara walked disgustedly back to the van. The police had been no help at all. When she had told them her husband was mad, they had just laughed and congratulated her on finally figuring that out. All subsequent attempts to make them believe her had ended in jokes. Upset and under a lot of stress, she collapsed into the front seat and began to cry.
After about a minute, she banished her tears. No time for these now, she told herself firmly. I have to get help. I have to hide.
She thought about the McFlys. Lorraine had taken her children in. And she had also said that she would take her in as well. I'm so lucky to have a friend like that. I'll be safe there, at least. And they'll understand about Emmett. Feeling a bit safer, she started up the van. To tell the truth, she was beginning to enjoy driving.
As she pulled into Lyons Estates, she suddenly got the feeling something was wrong. The neighborhood looked the same as usual, but she couldn't shake the notion she was in danger. The feeling only intensified as she reached the McFly house. What on earth is wrong with me? Why do I feel so afraid?
Then she noticed the front door was open. That could be explained by the hot weather, but it made Clara uneasy. It's the only place I can go, she reminded herself, getting out of the van and walking in. Calm--
"OH MY GOD!"
Lorraine was lying in front of her in a pool of blood, her face twisted into a mask of terror. One arm was outstretched, as if to grab at Clara's legs. And, sitting casually at the breakfast bar, swinging a bloody leg, was Doc. He smiled at her. "Hello, Clara dear."