Amanda lifted her jacket from the coat rack and slipped it on before opening the front door. She considered for a moment taking an umbrella to shield her from the rain, but after earlier seeing Mark's abandoned umbrella being blown in circles round and round the forecourt she decided against it.
Opening the front door she found that the force of the wind literally wrenched it from her hands and slammed it out against the railings before it came rebounding back towards her. She leapt back in surprise, narrowly avoiding being knocked off her feet by the force of the door. Pushing it out again it took some strength on her part to hold it from being ripped out of her grasp before she could get out of its path should it come back to hit her once again.
Finally managing to clear herself of the door, Amanda found she had to screw up her eyes almost to the point of closing them in order to protect them from the raging winds and the violent assault of the rain. Her clothing was once again saturated before she managed even to reach the bottom of the steps, an action which took her longer than she had expected due to the obstructive oppositional impetus from the veritable gale which tore at her clothing.
Amanda found, ironically, that despite the vast amount of air which was being propelled fiercely around her that she found it hard to breathe, the much needed oxygen being ripped past her open mouth before she was able to inhale deeply enough.
Dipping her head as low to her chest as she could and still remain upright Amanda ploughed onwards towards the driveway, the faint beam of Jesse's headlights mercifully casting a path of illumination guiding the route she had to follow.
The ground was slick and Amanda proceeded carefully, unsure of her footing in such appalling conditions. The distance, although comparatively short, seemed to take an age to cross, Amanda's thoughts invariably pulling her mind back to the Sloan's living room, to where Jesse lay insentient, injured.
Dying Amanda thought.
How much longer? She wondered, how much longer can his body hold out before… Her mind cut her thoughts short. She didn't want to think about it. Jesse was such a good friend to her – he delivered my baby for god's sake! She thought vehemently. He can't die, I won't let him!
Feeling a new flame of emotion surging through her veins Amanda sped up, reaching the car and pulling the car door open, before stopping dead. A wave of nausea threatened to overcome her and she turned away from the car and retched dryly, resting her hands on her knees and taking deep breaths to try and ease the revulsion which violated her senses. It was a moment before she stood again and was able to turn back to face the car.
The interior light was still on. The weak, orange-tinted glow cast shadows across the leather interior where dark red streaks of viscous blood stained the silvery leather. Amanda wasn't unaccustomed to seeing blood, she was, after all, a pathologist and medical examiner, and had come across crime scenes in which copious amounts of blood had been spilled. But this was different. This was Jesse's blood. She stood for a moment, unable to tear her eyes from the darkening blood stains, the coppery scent of the blood almost overwhelming.
I can't do this she thought, staring as if mesmerised by the car's awful secret. I can't get in that car.
The mere thought of having to get into the car, to sit where Jesse had as he had struggled to reach help, all the time bleeding, suffering, consumed with pain, the thought was enough to bring the acrid rise of bile back into her throat.
Another minute passed. Amanda stood in the torrential rain, her clothing hanging heavily from her flesh, her hair clinging to her face. She could not move, her mind was numb. A tremendous crash of thunder shattered the sky above her, snapping her from her stupor. I can't just stand here, Jesse needs me.
She made as if to enter the car, but stopped again, unable to bring herself closer. Cursing herself Amanda ran her hands through her hair and drew a shaky breath. She turned instead towards the rear of the car and hitched open the trunk. The inside content was a testament to Jesse. Other than the spare tire was a small first aid kit, a change of clothes and a few bags of chips and various snack foods. Jesse was, after all, renowned for his fondness of eating. Amanda smiled fondly at what she was and reached for the folded blanket which lay on top of the tire. She slammed down the trunk and made her way back round to the driver's side of the car. Laying the already dampening blanket over the blood stains she steadied herself before easing herself into the seat, immensely aware that she was now sitting atop the seat where Jesse had lain in such desperate need of help for god knew how long.
The keys were still in the ignition, and Amanda turned them, expectant of the engine rumbling into life. She was disconcerted however to hear a half-hearted guttural moan shudder from the vehicle before it ground in to silence.
"Oh come on!" Amanda said, pure frustration oozing from her words.
She turned the keys again, but nothing more than a choking noise was emitted form the car.
Leaving the lights must have drained the battery Amanda thought to herself, cursing under her breath.
She turned the keys over and over again, but each time the effort to spark into life became weaker and weaker.
"Arghhh!!!" Amanda screamed in frustration.
"Why is nothing working!" She bellowed slamming her palm down onto the steering wheel. The car however, remained obstinately silent and her hand now flushed with heat from the force of the impact.
"Damn it." She said, shaking her hand in pain and flexing her fingers. She took in a deep, trembling breath.
"Okay," she said in a whisper, directly addressing the car. "You are going to work, do you hear me?" The metallic tang of the blood was so strong she could almost taste it. Gripping the key, she held it for a moment without moving. Then as if in an attempt to surprise the car, she turned it rapidly and was awarded with the healthy reverberation of the engine.
"Oh thank god." She said breathily, and shifting the car into gear she began edging it forwards up the drive, pressing her foot the accelerator for fear of the engine cutting out before she was able to clear it of the drive.
Rounding into the drive, the engine did indeed begin to splutter again, but the car was well clear of the driveway as it slowly puttered to a halt. Switching off the engine she flung open the door and clambered from the car, relieved to be out of the confined malignant atmosphere. Taking as deep a breath as she could muster in the wind-torn forecourt Amanda tried to shake herself of the sensation of being tainted which had settled on her from the moment she had opened the car door and witnessed the macabre spectacle which lay inside.
Despite the dim illumination the car headlights had cast when she had first left the house, Amanda noticed that without them the darkness now appeared endless. Amanda peered all around her, trying to make out what forms the different shades of darkness indicated, and finally locating what she thought was the house she stepped forwards carefully, arms outstretched to feel for the railing of the steps she expected to feel at any moment.
Set back in the dark bushes he stood and watched. He had been out here for some time now – he had lost track of the exact length of time. But it was long enough for his eyes to have become accustomed to the pitch blackness and his skin to no longer feel the biting cold. He could see her, not clearly, but well enough to know that she was lost in the darkness, fumbling forwards and grasping blindly for the railings. She was going in the wrong direction; away from the house, coming slowly towards his hiding place. He grinned malevolently as he watched her stumble, dropping to one knee and thrusting out a hand to prevent a complete fall. He took a step forwards out of the cover of the shrubbery, a few more steps and he could reach out and touch her. He stretched out one hand as she stood and wiped her hands onto the fabric of her sodden trousers. Extending his fingers he found he could almost feel the warmth emanating from her body.
Maybe… But no. He wasn't here for her. He was here for the other one, the young blonde-haired man. He was the one he wanted. He pulled back his hand and stepped carefully backwards. Watching her as she turned slowly on the spot, trying again to find the direction of the house, cursing under her breath at not bringing a torch, her voice being carried in the wind directly to his ears. A sneer contorted his thin face, pulling at the scratch marks that had been gauged into his flesh earlier that evening, and he snorted with a derisory laugh
He was going to enjoy this.
Amanda cursed under her breath. Why didn't I bring a torch? She asked herself. After turning on the spot for a moment she managed to determine that the house was in the opposite direction to that which she had been heading. Arms still outstretched she made her way towards the house, and was just ascending the steps when a sound was whipped past her ears by the wind. She froze, concentrating with all her might on the noise. It had sounded like a laugh. Holding on to the railings she turned her head and peered onto the forecourt. Her eyes, although beginning to become accustomed to the gloom, were unable to make out anything in the impenetrable darkness and all she saw was a sheet of black nothingness before turning back into the house and pulling the door closed behind her.