V
"Oh there are places to run," Mort mumbled as he grabbed Amy's hand and pulled her after him. They'd get out of here as quick as they could. Newsome's idea had failed. He briefly wondered if the elderly man was somewhere in the brush as well. It wouldn't surprise him.
Shooter was in front of them before they knew what happened. "No sir," he answered in his southern drawl. "No sir there ain't. You're going to finish that story of mine." He grabbed Amy away from Mort and pulled her face towards his. "And she's going to be the one to help ya, isn't she, Mr. Rainey?"
"Leave her alone. This isn't Secret Window! This is REAL, Shooter. Leave Amy alone!"
"But you don't seem to willing to fix the story, Mr. Rainey, so I'll have to be doing that."
"What do you mean 'fix the story'?" Amy managed, fear in her voice.
"You see, Mrs. Rainey, your husband – 'scuse me, ex husband – should have fixed my story by killin' you two months ago, but he got outa it some how. Now right is right and fair is fair and it's long time due that he go about fixing it, or I do. You're 'spose to die here today, missy."
"I won't let you," Mort managed as he struggled to find a way to back up his threat.
"You won't let me, hmm, Mr. Rainey? I am you, in a way, wouldn't ya say?"
Mort looked thoroughly horrified at this comment. "No..."
"You know I am," Shooter grinned. "You mighta forced me out, but ya can't deny it forever. Part of you wanted to kill her and you were gonna use me to do that, weren't ya?"
Mort felt panic rise in him. "That's not true."
Yes it is. You know it is.
"No... it's not true... I'd never hurt Amy." Mort felt his head swim. His fever was back with a vengeance and he knew it. He vaguely wondered how much of this was real. Maybe it was all some insane hallucination his mind had thought up... But if that were the case, when did it begin? Was Amy real? Had the affair been real? Maybe he was just some deranged lunatic sitting in his little padded cell, rocking back and forth with his dreams coming and going in and out of reality and there was no way to tell what was real and what wasn't. He felt his knees buckle beneath him and he fell to the ground, hand pressed against his head.
"You just keep tellin' yourself that, Mr. Rainey," Shooter said as he tossed Amy to the ground next to her. "Ya know, if a person hears something long enough the start to believe it. Is that it in your case, Mr. Rainey?"
Amy reached a shaky hand to where her ex husband sat with his hands pressed firmly against his face. "Mort, are you all right? Mort, look at me, you're scaring me."
"I'm sorry," he mumbled. He forced himself to look at her, and then to look at Shooter, who was no longer there. He sighed with relief and felt Amy wrap an unsteady arm around him. He sank down into her embrace and sighed again. "What's real in all this and what's not?" he murmured.
"I don't know everything about this, do I?"
Mort shook his head, regretting the action as soon as he did. "Let's get home," he whispered. "We'll call the station from there and then I'll do my best to explain everything." He looked at her with uncertain eyes. "You won't think I'm crazy, will you?"
Amy smiled and laughed a bit. "No, of course not, Mort."
"Don't say it so quickly," he answered. "Because I'm not so sure myself."
--------------------------
Mort explained everything to the best of his ability. As an author he had never had trouble with words, so why did he have trouble now? Because you're admitting to your ex wife that you might be certifiable, that pesky little voice answered his question.
But crazy people don't know they're crazy.
Oh but they know something's off, let me assure you.
And you'd know this how?
I'm you, Mort. I know you're nuts.
Comforting.
He waited as Amy stood from her place where she had sat herself down. She walked slowly to the small window. Her secret window. "You're not crazy," she said at length. "I know that much. I've seen him too, so I know you're not crazy. Maybe he's just trying to make you think you are, thinking that he was a part of your subconscious, or some crap like that, hmm?"
"Think about it, Amy," Mort answered slowly. "No information on him, you said yourself that it was strange."
"I did. I didn't mean this kind of strange. I meant reasonably explainable strange."
"Well, maybe there is a reasonable explanation."
"I hope so." She turned back to him. "You called the cops, right?"
"Yeah."
"What'd they say?"
"That they'd go check it out and send someone over here."
"Why aren't they here yet?"
Mort stood when he heard a noise downstairs. "He's toying with us."
Amy came up behind him, shaking. "Let's get out of here, please."
Mort nodded, glancing around them. "Good idea."
-----------------------------
A/N: Hey ya'll! Thanks for reading! Umm.. I know a lot of people don't pray, but if you do could I ask for you to pray for a good friend of mine's brother-in-law. He's very sick and dying and it's very tough on the family. I know my friend would appreciate it and I'm sure his brother-in- law would too. Thanks very much. TS
TrappedandAnnoyed: ::grins evilly:: I do love angst, and if Amy got hurt that would bring about a lot of angst......
LaVieSansAmour: Thanks very much! Poor Mort though, I'm putting him through such a stressful time. If I'm not careful he might have a nervous break down. I'm glad you didn't see it coming! That means part of my job is complete! I like it when my twists are unforeseeable. :) Hmm.. I'll have to look into the other movies. Are they horror/thriller? That's the mood I've been into for movies as of late. Of course anything with Johnny Depp in it will suffice... ::grins::
Dawnie-7: No! Don't die! Then you can't review! That would be sad! Then I would be sad and couldn't write and then no one else would review and I'd get even sadder and it'd be a horrible, horrible cycle.... Sorry... got a bit carried away. Please don't die! :)
Hollow-ambitions: Such wonderful ideas! A fellow torture-the-main-character- to-fill-the-angst-addiction fan! Good good. Glad you like it and hope that the fifth chapter reached expectations.
"Oh there are places to run," Mort mumbled as he grabbed Amy's hand and pulled her after him. They'd get out of here as quick as they could. Newsome's idea had failed. He briefly wondered if the elderly man was somewhere in the brush as well. It wouldn't surprise him.
Shooter was in front of them before they knew what happened. "No sir," he answered in his southern drawl. "No sir there ain't. You're going to finish that story of mine." He grabbed Amy away from Mort and pulled her face towards his. "And she's going to be the one to help ya, isn't she, Mr. Rainey?"
"Leave her alone. This isn't Secret Window! This is REAL, Shooter. Leave Amy alone!"
"But you don't seem to willing to fix the story, Mr. Rainey, so I'll have to be doing that."
"What do you mean 'fix the story'?" Amy managed, fear in her voice.
"You see, Mrs. Rainey, your husband – 'scuse me, ex husband – should have fixed my story by killin' you two months ago, but he got outa it some how. Now right is right and fair is fair and it's long time due that he go about fixing it, or I do. You're 'spose to die here today, missy."
"I won't let you," Mort managed as he struggled to find a way to back up his threat.
"You won't let me, hmm, Mr. Rainey? I am you, in a way, wouldn't ya say?"
Mort looked thoroughly horrified at this comment. "No..."
"You know I am," Shooter grinned. "You mighta forced me out, but ya can't deny it forever. Part of you wanted to kill her and you were gonna use me to do that, weren't ya?"
Mort felt panic rise in him. "That's not true."
Yes it is. You know it is.
"No... it's not true... I'd never hurt Amy." Mort felt his head swim. His fever was back with a vengeance and he knew it. He vaguely wondered how much of this was real. Maybe it was all some insane hallucination his mind had thought up... But if that were the case, when did it begin? Was Amy real? Had the affair been real? Maybe he was just some deranged lunatic sitting in his little padded cell, rocking back and forth with his dreams coming and going in and out of reality and there was no way to tell what was real and what wasn't. He felt his knees buckle beneath him and he fell to the ground, hand pressed against his head.
"You just keep tellin' yourself that, Mr. Rainey," Shooter said as he tossed Amy to the ground next to her. "Ya know, if a person hears something long enough the start to believe it. Is that it in your case, Mr. Rainey?"
Amy reached a shaky hand to where her ex husband sat with his hands pressed firmly against his face. "Mort, are you all right? Mort, look at me, you're scaring me."
"I'm sorry," he mumbled. He forced himself to look at her, and then to look at Shooter, who was no longer there. He sighed with relief and felt Amy wrap an unsteady arm around him. He sank down into her embrace and sighed again. "What's real in all this and what's not?" he murmured.
"I don't know everything about this, do I?"
Mort shook his head, regretting the action as soon as he did. "Let's get home," he whispered. "We'll call the station from there and then I'll do my best to explain everything." He looked at her with uncertain eyes. "You won't think I'm crazy, will you?"
Amy smiled and laughed a bit. "No, of course not, Mort."
"Don't say it so quickly," he answered. "Because I'm not so sure myself."
--------------------------
Mort explained everything to the best of his ability. As an author he had never had trouble with words, so why did he have trouble now? Because you're admitting to your ex wife that you might be certifiable, that pesky little voice answered his question.
But crazy people don't know they're crazy.
Oh but they know something's off, let me assure you.
And you'd know this how?
I'm you, Mort. I know you're nuts.
Comforting.
He waited as Amy stood from her place where she had sat herself down. She walked slowly to the small window. Her secret window. "You're not crazy," she said at length. "I know that much. I've seen him too, so I know you're not crazy. Maybe he's just trying to make you think you are, thinking that he was a part of your subconscious, or some crap like that, hmm?"
"Think about it, Amy," Mort answered slowly. "No information on him, you said yourself that it was strange."
"I did. I didn't mean this kind of strange. I meant reasonably explainable strange."
"Well, maybe there is a reasonable explanation."
"I hope so." She turned back to him. "You called the cops, right?"
"Yeah."
"What'd they say?"
"That they'd go check it out and send someone over here."
"Why aren't they here yet?"
Mort stood when he heard a noise downstairs. "He's toying with us."
Amy came up behind him, shaking. "Let's get out of here, please."
Mort nodded, glancing around them. "Good idea."
-----------------------------
A/N: Hey ya'll! Thanks for reading! Umm.. I know a lot of people don't pray, but if you do could I ask for you to pray for a good friend of mine's brother-in-law. He's very sick and dying and it's very tough on the family. I know my friend would appreciate it and I'm sure his brother-in- law would too. Thanks very much. TS
TrappedandAnnoyed: ::grins evilly:: I do love angst, and if Amy got hurt that would bring about a lot of angst......
LaVieSansAmour: Thanks very much! Poor Mort though, I'm putting him through such a stressful time. If I'm not careful he might have a nervous break down. I'm glad you didn't see it coming! That means part of my job is complete! I like it when my twists are unforeseeable. :) Hmm.. I'll have to look into the other movies. Are they horror/thriller? That's the mood I've been into for movies as of late. Of course anything with Johnny Depp in it will suffice... ::grins::
Dawnie-7: No! Don't die! Then you can't review! That would be sad! Then I would be sad and couldn't write and then no one else would review and I'd get even sadder and it'd be a horrible, horrible cycle.... Sorry... got a bit carried away. Please don't die! :)
Hollow-ambitions: Such wonderful ideas! A fellow torture-the-main-character- to-fill-the-angst-addiction fan! Good good. Glad you like it and hope that the fifth chapter reached expectations.