CHAPTER 8
Ned followed the lady into the woods. He had never been to this hill before. The silence of the woods was deafening. The only the audible was the sound of the woman's and his feet crunching the dry leaves on the ground.
"Who are you?" he asked terrified yet trying to hide it, "Where are you taking me?"
The woman chuckled. "Looks like Mr. I'm-Not-Afraid-of-You is afraid now."
She still held his arm tightly, her red-painted nails digging into his skin. He stumbled along by her, as she walked on steadily, knowing the way through the forest without doubt. The sun was directly above them but they barely felt it for they were under the protective shade of the trees. Suddenly, they came to a stop. Curious, Ned stuck his head over the mysterious woman. In front of them was a little hut in the middle of a clearing of trees. She stepped forward and went to the door. She unlocked the fragile wooden door with her right hand, her left still holding his arm.
"Where are you taking me?" Ned asked fearfully, not hiding it anymore.
"You'll see in a second, honey," she said, laughing softly. She pushed the door open and stepped in.
The little hut was rather tidy except for the table at the left-hand corner. It was piled with a few plastic food wrappers and heaps of photographs. She led him in, still clutching his arm.
"Here, have a seat," she said, gesturing to a comfortably-sunken couch. She released his arm and sat him down. "Hold on while I prepare some drinks."
The mysterious woman went into another room which could be the kitchen. Ned sat there, wringing his hands nervously. He surveyed the unfamiliar environment around him. He tapped his foot impatiently on the solid wooden floor. He heard the "tap-tap" of the woman's high heeled shoes on the floor boards. He turned around immediately and got up. She was carrying two glasses of red wine.
"Hey!" he shouted at her, "When can I get out of this place?"
She smiled and settled the glasses on the coffee table. Then, she turned to him and touched his very warm cheek with her delicate fingers. It sent a chill up his spine. "Don't worry," she said, turning around. She took a little tube of lipstick and lined it on her lips. She smacked her lips gently and turned to face him. "You'll be out of here in no time, Ned Nickerson."
Ned stood there dumbfounded. "H…how…how do you…k…know my name?"
She laughed softly. "A little information, silly."
She took a step forward and he took a step backwards. She put her two hands on his cheeks and gave him a hard kiss on the lips. Ned felt shocked and could only stand there, hardly returning her kiss. Suddenly, he could taste a very bitter substance on her lips. He grimaced and tried to pull away but she still held him tight. Slowly, he could barely feel her kissing him, barely feel her hands on his cheeks, barely feel his feet on the ground, barely taste the bitterness. Then, he lapsed into unconsciousness.
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"Thankfully, that doctor was here just in a nick of time!" exclaimed Dana, "What's his name again?"
"Doctor Randall Grenstein," replied Joe, still wondering who the person in the hooded figure was.
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The following morning, a half-sleepy Nancy sped downhill as quickly as possible. She had just received another threat from "The Psychotic New Yorker". Now she had to race to the Villagers' Welcome to pick Frank up then to check out for Chris – if he is alright.
Well, well, well, Nancy, looks like you are running out of time. Christensen will soon be in the hands of his rightful guardian – who is a very much alive Handel…not a mere 24-year-old Drew girl.
The message in the letter kept ringing in her head. She slammed to a halt in front of the inn. Frank came running down the stairs into the car.
"Is Chris okay?" he asked, out of breath.
"I…I don't know," said Nancy worriedly, "We'll be seeing to that in just a short while."
The car sped down the road all the way to the hospital. Nancy scanned through the parking lot for a space. As soon as she found it, she backed into the lot carelessly and ran straight into the hospital with Frank behind her. She took the elevator up, tapping her foot nervously on the floor, much to the annoyance of a grumpy old lady. Floor 1, 2, 3, 4, 5! She dashed out of the elevator. Nancy burst into the ward. To her horror, Christensen's bed was empty and tidied up!