Chapter 2: Friend? Or Foe?
I jumped awake when I felt a hand on my shoulder, struggling to get them focused before even so much as blinking. "Whoa, whoa, slow down there," a gentle, fatherly voice said, and the hand rested on my shoulder once again. I pulled away without thinking, trying to back up into the pile of garbage I'd slept on last night. Thank goodness I'd managed to find a blanket.
"What are you doing sleeping in the garbage, sweetheart?" He asked. I took exactly three seconds to assess his outfit. Officer. Not just officer, but sheriff. His badge winked at me from just above his shirt pocket, his gun safely holstered on his belt, and kind blue eyes studied me.
"Uh..." I got out groggily, unable to come up with an explanation and wanting nothing more than to sprint far away. "Are you lost?" I cleared my throat and stretched, feeling sore from the not so supportive bag I'd slept against. "Yes and no, sir. I'm not trying to cause trouble."
He opened his mouth to say something when gunshots rang from out of nowhere, pelting the side of his car and an unfortunate passerby on the street. He had covered me with his body, and I bit my lip to keep from losing it, but just like that, it was over just as fast as it had begun. He stood up and ran to the person bleeding on the ground, who had managed to survive the attack and was groaning.
I knew what to do.
"Sir, do you have a needle and thread?" "What?" "Needle. Thread. Do you have some?" He nodded then, jumping up and snatching open the glovebox in his patrol vehicle. Within seconds, he had a small needle and sturdy thread in my hands and I went to the person.
The wound was on his left shoulder, and I could tell from the two separate holes in his sweater that the bullet had gone straight through. "You're lucky," I commented to the man, who passed out in response. "Well, that will make this easier."
I pulled out the lighter I kept on me and burned the needle for sterilization, then threaded it and pushed the needle through the wounded tissue. Thankfully, his blood had begun to clot before I'd started. Once I had the tissue on both sides sealed, the ambulance showed up. "That was very brave of you, miss," the sheriff said. I shrugged, and let my eyes search the cracks in the pavement.
"Are you new here?" Another, younger officer asked. "Yes," I said softly, "but not for long. I'm just passing through." I didn't like the suspicious looks that they gave me, and without another word, I turned and bolted down the alleyway, and my heart thundered when I heard footsteps behind me. I dodged through every alleyway that I found, and eventually, I lost them. I clapped a hand over my mouth when I heard the dispatch radio close by to keep from exclaiming in surprise.
"Did you find her?!" It screeched. Light static, then a reply, "No, I think I lost her." "She's too suspicious. Innocent people don't just run like that. Find her, deputy." "Ten-four."
"Shit," I mumbled. I decided at this point, the alleyway wasn't a good bet anymore, and carefully I snuck around, trying to not leave any footprints in the dirt or disturb any metal cans on the ground.
I crept slowly to the corner, preparing to take off into the woods nearby, only to run slap into a girl about my age, who, with a stern look, put a finger to her lips and grabbed my arm, hauling me into the destination that I'd chosen moments ago. My heart hammered into my ribcage from being startled, but I kept quiet until we got to a decent place before carefully removing my arm from her grasp.
"Um, thanks…for that. Why did you help me?" I asked, trying not to sound too suspicious, but ending up not doing so. "I've had my run-ins with the law, and you don't look at fault for anything. You're welcome." She said, putting her hands into the pockets of her black leather jacket and walking on. I went after her.
"Still, helping strangers? You don't look the type, no offense." "Generally, you'd be right about that," she smirked, "but you strike me as someone who could use a break."
Immediately, I tensed. Could she be someone that Damian hired? Was she leading me to a trap?
"What's your name?" She asked to fill the silence. "Rachel," I said almost inaudibly.
"You're lying."
Terror ripped through me, and without a second thought, I spun on my heel and bolted through the woods. Briars caught my ankles, twigs whipped my hands and cheeks as I ran, out of breath from panic before I'd even started. Tears had sprung to my eyes, and I felt them escaping as the wind turned them icy on my cheeks.
It felt as though I'd ran for hours, and with no clear destination, I found myself stuck in an endless maze of dead trees and fallen leaves. I finally sat against the trunk of one of the trees and took short, shaky breaths.
If she did work for Damian, I couldn't have made it more obvious that it was me. If she was one of his cohorts, I'd be dead by evening.
Why was I even trying?
He'd been after me for six years, like I'd become the prize to all his hard work. There was no stopping him. He always found a way to escape imprisonment, and he always caught a lead straight to me. Was six years enough of running?
I couldn't stop the terrible, nightmarish memories that spilled through me for the millionth time. Shaking, I recalled the night that would change my life, and my identity, forever…
It was cold that night, colder than usual for a Georgia evening. I'd been out studying, late again, at the library because there was an upcoming final that would make or break my ability to graduate. Keeping up with any activity was hard when Damian was around.
I knew Mom and Dad would have the fire going, so a nice, warm house would be welcoming. I hurried up the stairs…I could still hear the sound of my feet rushing up the wooden planks…
When I opened the door, everything was too quiet, and I knew in my gut that I should turn around and leave. But I didn't. Instead, I shut the door and listened. For a sound, any sound, and was rewarded with the noise that would haunt my dreams forever.
My mother's pained, bloodcurdling scream. It pierced my eyes and made goosebumps rise on my skin. It made my heart stop. "Mother?" I had squeaked, only to be answered with my father's yelp of terror and pain. "Daddy?" I whispered.
The lights were all out, and I could barely see my hand in front of my face. But the flicker from a wall lamp in the den shown from under the closed door between the room and me. So quietly, I snuck to the door and pushed it open, without as much as a creak.
A loud thump, followed by a sound like sloshing, came from the dining room to my left. I hadn't realized until then that I'd been holding my breath and my chest ached with the need for air. "Da…mi…" I heard my father struggle to say. Another thump.
Finally, air came rushing painfully back into my lungs with sudden panic and in that state, I stumbled to the archway of the dining room. Cold fear iced through my veins.
Damian, his face, hands and clothes red and dripping, sat on his knees over our parents, drenched in their blood. Our parents, lifeless on the floor with their faces frozen in permanent horror over what their son had done to them. Damian's hands were filled with torn flesh and blood, and I swore his eyes were crazier than I'd ever seen.
Suddenly, anger consumed me. "DAMIAN, HOW COULD YOU!" Like screaming all my rage at him would affect this monster.
He said nothing, but slowly stood, his arms twitching, his eyes insane, and a smile on his blood colored lips. Silently, he leisurely raised his arm to point at me.
"You're next…"
"No!" I screamed.
I hadn't realized that I'd fallen asleep, but I quickly became awake when I met the eyes of the girl from earlier. "I know. Nightmares suck." She said, kicking at a rock buried within the soil. "Who are you? Why did you look for me?" I asked, feeling defeated.
"Because this is Beacon Hills, and you don't just stroll into these woods. They last forever, and are home to some dangerous animals." She waltzed over and bent down beside me. "Were you drawn here?"
"I'm not sure," I answered honestly. "Why did you come here?" "I'm just passing through." "No one just passes through Beacon Hills. You're either here to stay, or you're here to cause trouble." "I'm not. I'm just…"
She calculated my silence and watched my face.
"Alright," she said, "so, you're here temporarily. I believe that, but do you know what I don't believe?" I gulped and asked, "What?"
"Your name is not Rachel. So, if your name is not Rachel, that means you're hiding something, and hiding something implies that you're either trouble, or you're IN trouble. Which is it?" She stared hard at me.
"In trouble." She nodded and stood, reaching a hand down to me and pulled me up.
"Okay, Rachel," she said, "My name is Cora Hale. I'm here temporarily trying to figure out some things. We can be friends, or we can be foes. That depends on you." "I prefer friends, though you won't know me long enough for that."
She smiled and shook my hand.
"We'll see."
**I hope you guys all like how this is going! There is a lot in store for this story! Have a good day!**