LGPatA - Alt. Ending #1
Let's Go Play at the Adams (LGPatA), personal alternate ending #1.
8500 words. Version 1C8
Henry Tjernlund (2022) Personal alternate ending to LGPatA. Please consider that I am dyslexic and this is an early draft, so please ignore typos. Some minor changes have been made to characters and plot so as to prevent this from becoming too long.
The following is my own personal alternative ending to the novel Let's Go Play at the Adams' by Mendal W. Johnson (1974). The book was out of print for 40 years. Recently it was brought back.
Though the novel is well written I found the ending to be terribly unsatisfying. So I wrote my own ending, or three.
It is recommended that the reader to have already read the original novel, otherwise this small slice might not make much sense. But here is a brief rundown of the characters and premise from the original novel.
The Freedom Five are a group of kids who seek to be free of adult rule. They are-
Cindy (10) is one of two Adams' children and youngest of the group.
Bobby (13) is the other Adams' kid who aspired to be a successful doctor like his father.
Paul (13) is a neighbor kid who has a fascination for sharp things.
John (16) another neighbor kid who is a jr. Varsity athlete and has a fascination for pretty girls.
Dianne (17) is the gangly sister to Paul and smartest of the group being a master strategist.
Barbara (20) is a prettier than average college coed and swimmer who studied child development and aspires to be a teacher. Who else could seem better as a babysitter?
Cruz (?) is a transient crop picker who camped at the edge of the river.
Premise: In 1970s rural Maryland the Adams parents hire Barbara to take care of their kids and estate in rural Maryland while they vacation in Europe for 2 weeks. Several days in, Barbara wakes up from being drugged to find herself tied up spread eagle to her bed. She is now the unwitting 'prisoner' in the children's prisoner-of-war game with the children as her 'prison guards'. Days into this game things have already gone too far as John, while on lone prison guard duty, had given into his lust and raped Barbara.
Note that this Adams' family has nothing to do with the Adams' Family TV shows or movies.
#
Here is where my personal alternative
version diverges from the authors original work.
#
The Freedom-Five kids worked together to extract from the station wagon and haul the tarp and it's human contents up the steps of the abandoned tenet house (the temporary lodgings where the Adams parents stayed as their expensive permanent house was being built.). They dragged the tarp across the dirty wooden floor of the most intact room. This one had only one broker window. The other second floor rooms had nearly all their windows broken out. Then they got together and pulled up one side of the tarp. Barbara grunted as her bound and gagged body rolled out. Paul laughed at the sight of the nude babysitter. Bobby was the only one to look away.
Dianne pushed their prisoner onto her chest and face down front. Then the groups master strategist untied one rope. And reattached it to Barbara's crossed ankles forcing her knees to spread. Pulling their captive's lower legs sharply back she tethered them to her wrists, Feet and hands nearly touching. This rewarded them with another grunt from their captive.
"Okay, you all have your special assignments."
"Aww," the three youngest complained. "Can't we play with her some more."
"No, We'll all play with her plenty in the morning." Dianne turned to Cindy, "I'll be along later so we can bake a 'welcome-home' cake for the Adams'. Cindy and Paul can lick the bowl."
"Yay the two yelled out."
"Bobby, you walk them over."
After the three left Dianne knelt down beside Barbara. "Consider it your going away cake," Dianne snickered.
"Monster," Barbara tried to say through the gag-rag taped in her mouth."
"What'd she say?" John asked.
"Doesn't matter." Dianne said. Standing she stepped on Barbara's back to get past her. Another grunt. Using a flash light Dianne cleaned up any pieces of glass or anything else with a sharp edge and threw them out the missing pane of window.
John took out one of the longer leash ropes from his pocket and tossed one end over an exposed ceiling joist. He then started working the looped end over Barbara's head.
"What are you doing?" Dianne looked at him.
"She might still be able to roll or inch-worm to the stairs."
"If the stupid thing strangles itself it will ruin the plan."
"But I thought-"
"I have a better idea." Dianne went to the stairs landing and started pulling a door from another room off its hinges. It took both them to get it free. Then John brought up two heavy rocks. They put the door across the doorway sideways like a child-gate and used the two rocks to anchor it in place.
After one more walk-around Dianne handed the length of leash-rope to John. "Keep that with you. We'll need it tomorrow."
They both left, their footsteps fading down the stairs.
Barbara was alone now, naked, and hogtied on her stomach. With her knees spread in a stable triage she couldn't even roll to the side. The dusk was becoming night. Occasional soft flashes of lightening foretold of a coming storm. Barbara tried her weakened strength against her bindings. At best she could barely wiggle. She let her forehead hit the wood floor with a thump. Oww, she would have said if she could. One nail head pushed up a quarter inch from years of the wood planks expanding and contracting was directly under her face.
She got an idea. She moved such the edge of the tape gag might catch on the nail head, but the tape was sealed tight against her skin. She had to do it by feel and it wasn't working. She even tried to push her tongue against the rag filling her mouth but still couldn't feel any loose edge to get the nail to catch one. A cramp in her neck forced her to rest. The tape was too fresh and sealed too well against her mouth. But even if she managed to get the gag out. She was in a rear facing room of a building a hundred yards away from a little traveled paved rural road on a stormy night when any car passing by would have it's windows closed against the coming storm. No one would hear a hoarse voice calling for help. She tried at the ropes and gag for what was fifteen minutes or half an hour, she could no longer tell.
#
Barbara was woken by a low rumble. It was either thunder that was getting closer or a truck going past on the highway on the other side of the house. It was quiet again. Why couldn't someone breakdown on the road and seek shelter in the abandoned house. They could discover her and get her back to their car and drive to the police. "No, no, no, they were broken down, remember?" Terry's, her ex-roommate's voice in her head pointed out.
Again she tried scratching her gag against the nail head. She thought for a moment if it tore or pulled away even the slightest bit it' would be a start. But the tape simply sealed back again. She tried with her chin but all she accomplished was a painful scratch.
She tried the ropes around her body again. Tried to wiggle out of them. But as in past week Dianne's roping was inescapable. Barbara never knew that a human could be bound so strictly such as to prevent any movement.
In the last hour the temperature had dropped. The cold front blew in the broken windows, the torn roof could hold no warmth left from the day.
There was no guard on prisoner watch duty this time. Dianne assured the other kids that there was no way Barbara could get free, Cindy had already revealed to their babysitter that she was to be killed in the morning. Why? The only answer she kept getting, when she was un-gagged and able to speak, was it was just a game, and in a game someone had to loose, and the losser was her. Crazy, monstrous. Was it because John had raped her when she was tied spread-eagle to her bed? The Maryland rape laws allowed for a life sentence, the same as murder. A cold-logical mind like Dianne's could conclude that killing the rape victim was the less risky plan as the rape had yet to be reported. For nearly a week she had been allowed only bread and water. A prisoner's rations worth.
Reasoning with the kids did not work. Barbara's teacher-to-be training did not work. Nothing worked. Even Bobby which she thought she had the best chance to turn to her side, was unrelenting to his loyalty to the Freedom-Five as the kids called themselves. A monstrously ironic name.
"Stopped trying, little miss never give up?" Barbara's ex-roommate's voice sounded in her head.
Again Barbara tried to reach the rope binding her ankles together. The ropes around her wrists bit in to her damaged raw flesh yet again. Her longest finger could just touch a knot of her ankle bindings. She could scratch at the knot with her fingernail. She closed her eyes and put all her effort into it, arching her back, imagining her swim coach telling her that if she doesn't make it to shore then she's going to drown. Then it happened. Her thigh muscle seized up into a painful cramp. She tried to relax all her muscles. No good. Her thigh locked even harder. She tried to scream but the terrycloth filling her mouth prevented it. Please God, please, She pleaded in her mind. She felt like she wanted to vomit. For the first time she was grateful that her stomach was empty. With nowhere else to go the vomit could have been inhaled into her lungs. But her throat and sinuses started to burn from the stomach acid that did come up. Fuck you, Terry. "That's more like it," her ex-friend said in her mind. She fainted.
Barbara jerked awake at a the near simultaneous flash of lightening and clap of thunder. After that passed she could still see the wood pattern in the floor planks just an inch from her eyes. If it was daybreak filtering in the windows then she would soon be killed. All the things she wanted to do in life, especially teach would never happen for her. No movies on a date. No buying a house and making it into a home. No having kids, despite these monstrosities who were going to kill her soon because someone played and someone in that game, which she never consented to, had to loose. This short world was not what she thought it was. She relaxed her head and let her forehead and nose press on the floor.
She was back in total darkness.
"Get up and fight it," Terry's voice was back. "That's what you told me all those times."
"You were addicted," She told Terry back in her mind.
"A trap is a trap. A cage a cage."
"I don't understand, this is different."
"This is a trap and you stepped in it. And you had a chance to get out."
"I didn't want to hurt her."
"Oh, I see. Well she's going to kill you in the morning."
"But I don't understand why."
"It's easy. She's crazy. And you make perfect timid prey. And for John, you make his perfect practice rape victim complete with training wheels. Imagine what he'll do to other women. And what if Dianne and John team up? What if she helps him get more victims. And it's your fault.
"Shut up. Shut up! SHUT UP!"
"Don't blame me. It's the cold."
Hypothermia was setting in. She would welcome the illusion of warmth which sometimes was a symptom. "Just let me die here and now," she mentally begged. Dianne talked about the Adams' outdoor grill, and charcoal, and lighter fluid, and fireplace pokers. And it didn't sound like they were going to have a cookout. They could stake her spread-eagle, maybe in the fallow corn field behind the house, out of sight of the road.
Was only one going to torture her? No, this was the Freedom-Five. All of them would be involved. All of them! Even Cindy? She tried to push out the thought, but it pushed itself back in. What did young girls do with their dolls, their dolls that had no nipples or genitalia. The image formed itself in her mind of Cindy erasing one of a life sized living doll's nipples with a red hot poker. And as one hot poker cooled the other would be heating back up in the burning coals. Stop it, Stop It; STOP IT! She screamed at her own mind.
"And you know what part of you that Dianne would choose." Terry was back. "Your face."
"Why?"
"Because you're prettier than she is. John gives you the attention she craves. You don't get it, do you? Dianne set this all in motion to destroy the beautiful, kind, and good natured Barbara.
"Then again," Terry started up. "It would also make sense for her to burn you between your lovely legs. Destroy all the evidence of John's semen. She'd have to go deep to get it all. Or she might make John do you there. I mean, it is HIS seed." Barbara screamed in her mind. "Again, you should have killed her when you had that one brief chance."
Barbara filled her mind with mental static. She caught herself nodding off. She had no way to tell what time it was. It could be an hour before her death, or ten. And she was in a death-row-hogtie. The distant flashes of lightening no longer illuminated the room. The delayed booms were soft and almost relaxing. Should she fight for her life or just let it happen. "I don't want to die," she cried in her mind, but she didn't see how she could stop it.
#
She woke. Again there was a faint soft glow. It came from behind her, the landing at the top of the stairs. It had become a little brighter. It could be anyone, though she ruled out Cindy who was afraid of the dark. She hoped for Bobby so she could appeal to his humanity one last time. But she also braced that it could be Paul with his pocket knife or John with his dagger of flesh wanting to penetrate her one last time. Maybe she could tell by the footsteps but there were none. The stairs creaked for even the light Cindy. Barbara strained her neck to see.
At the edge of her vision something human shaped and luminous glided to the top of the stairs. A semi-transparent apparition of a young woman wearing a heavy dress in a style centuries past. Perhaps like attire worn by the Settlers which had come from Europe. It looked around the room as if it had trouble seeing her. Then the Settler woman made eye contact and walked her direction passing through the barrier Dianne and John erected. It's feet made no sound and didn't even seem to quite touch the floor. As it got closer what first appeared as irregular textile pattern became clear as burn marks. A hallucination was the only explanation.
The Settler-Ghostly image knelt down beside Barbara. It reached out a hand, half covered in burn marks, and touched her arm. The contact was warm. The thing leaned forward touching it's breast to Barbara's side. The odor of smoke came with it. Warmth soaked into her side. It felt both good and painful as numb tissue seemed to come alive again. The Settler's one hand moved down her leg. Thigh, calf, then Barbara's foot warmed. It overlapped the front of its body with the back of Barbara's. The warmth spread to everywhere there was contact and even overlap.
This is it. Hypothermia. Her swim coach warned of it. Sometimes victims felt a false sense of warmth when the drop in core body temperature started to affect their brain. That's what was happening to her. Hallucination with a false sense of warmth. She thought it would be ironic if she died of hypothermia organ failure feeling pleasantly warm before they could kill her. Would that be such a bad thing? But it's not real, she cried in her mind.
"So what's wrong with enjoying it?" Terry's voice pointed out and was gone just as fast.
The Settler held onto the rope around one of Barbara's wrists. It became warmer, then warmer still. The edges of one burn mark became bright and even pulsated like a heart beat. It almost became too hot, almost. The apparition became perplexed. Was it trying to free her, to burn the ropes. But it gave up. The heat faded to a warmth. Of course it couldn't. It wasn't real.
It then cuddled Barbara, sinking it's body into hers. It was like a hot bath. Barbara shivered hard and sighed through her gag. It felt so good. For a little while it stayed there. Just let me die like this, she begged in her mind.
It was too much, it couldn't be real. Was Barbara already dead? Fake, all of it. It could not be real, it just couldn't. The thing pressed it's length against her own. She jolted from the pleasant sensation going deep into her core. The lie was so cruel, yet so welcome. If this was death, than so be it. So better than whatever they would do to her, or maybe even were doing now without her being aware.
The settler placed her hand over Barbara's mouth and gag. The warmth spread through her face. ….
The tape became soft instead of stiff. It's hold on her cheek relaxed. Barbara opened her mouth. The tape allowed it. Some of it separated from her lips. Going back and forth between opening her jaw wide and pushing with her tongue she was working the gag-rag out of her mouth. The rag unfolded. It stuck to the tape keeping the tape from restocking to her mouth. She could breath through the opening it made. She shook her head as best she good. More of the rage left her mouth.
She again tried the nail head. The tape edge easily pulled away. Though the nail added more scratches to her skin more of the tape was pulled away. "Thank you, thank you, thank you," She said with her actual voice.
A new glow came from the steps. Was this Bobby with a real lantern? Would he break the spell and suddenly Barbara would be back to being tightly hogtied, gagged, and cold? But instead of Bobby a young Native American woman silently ascended the steps and crossed the landing into the room, through the barrier as the Settler had.
This new apparition set down a bowl and gourde in front of Barbara. The first golden apparition reached out an arm to the new one, and for a second they embraced. Then they both turned their attentions to Barbara. The Native lifted the bowl. It held a yellowish mash. The first ghost held the bowl with one hand and the golden glow spread to it replacing the blue translucence.
A wisp of warm moisture came from the mash in the bowl. It smelled of corn.
Barbara gasped at the fresh air which didn't have to pass through her cold dry nose. The apparition of the native girl scooped up with her fingers a small portion of the mash from the bowl and lifted it to Barbara's lips.
She could smell maize as the warm mash entered her mouth. It felt and tasted real. Barbara rolled it around in her dry mouth. It took effort to swallow, but she managed. "Thank you" she whispered. She felt silly that she was talked to something which wasn't really there.
The Settler Ghost stood. Same of the warmed went with her. Barbara shivered as the chilled air drafted over her. The Ghost removed her translucent golden cape and placed it over Barbara. The warmth returned. Then the Settler glided to the stairs and disappeared. Her cape remained on Barbara.
The Native Ghost set the bowl down and pulled a stopper from the gourde. It held it up to Barbara. Shaking she lifted her shoulders. The Native tilted it. Liquid, warm and fruity poured into Barbara's mouth. She swallowed. It was delicious all the way down to her stomach. Two more mouthfuls and the gourde was empty.
Looking down to where the excess dribbled on the dirty floor where it had beaded up. The hallucination was convincing.
The Native urged the gourde to her again.
"It's empty," Barbara said.
The Native shook it. There was a splash in side. Barbara got two more mouthfuls. The Native scooped up one more fingers full of the mash and fed it to her. A little bit of strength was returning. "Who are you," she asked. The apparition could not seem to hear, but she smiled as if to a hungry child. The tape was still stuck to her one cheek but gag-rag hung away from her mouth. She cried for several seconds.
The Native moved around Barbara. Then she saw it. Two broken off arrows protruded from the Native's sternum. She looked up into the Native's eyes. "You were murdered, weren't you?" The native frowned a bit. "And so was she, wasn't she?" Barbara looked around for the Settler.
Her stomach grumbled. Not by the action of hunger but of nourishment being immediately processed. A sense of strength returned.
FOOTSTEPS. Someone was at the base of the stairs. A glow was coming from there too. Booby with his shotgun was the first thing she thought of. Or it could be John with his riffle. Possible even Diane, none of which were good. But the footsteps were irregular and paused. The Settler's glowing form glided up to the top landing. The footsteps were not coming from her. The Settler wasn't even looking into the room but instead making urging motions to someone, or something below. The footsteps reached the top. A thin young man emerged. His clothing was worn and frayed. But it was real looking clothing on a real looking person.
The Settler apparition moved into the room. The man followed the barricade, but froze when he saw Barbara. The Settler continued on to her. Reaching her it took the cape from her. Barbara suddenly felt chilled again.
At the urging from both the Settler and Native the Man went slowly over to the three women. Taking off his jacket, he knelt beside Barbara. Draping the coat over her back. It felt of real cloth. It smelled of real odor. IT WAS REAL,
"Who you?" The man asked withdrawing a small buck knife from it's sheath on his belt.
"Barbara," she said between bouts of renewed shivering and keeping close watch on the knife.
"Who do this?" the man asked in a heavy accent as he took the knife and sawed at the tether between Barbara's wrists and ankles. THUP. The tension gave. Barbara pushed her legs straight, but they cramped. The Settler-ghostly knelt down and massaged Barbara's legs with her warm hands. The pain melted away allowing Barbara to stretch a bit more.
"Dianne," she said.
"Mean girl," The man said, as he pulled the coat up and worked at cutting Barbara's wrists apart.
"And who are you?" Barbara asked.
"Cruz"
Her wrists were separated. But her arms were still pressed against her back with two more loops around her chest. Cruz moved his jacket around to cover her front and bare her back and the chest ropes.
"Oh, and John, and the others."
"John with rifle?" Cruz asked as be cut the two ropes freeing her arms. Setting the knife on the floor Cruz got the coat and helped Barbara thread her arms through the sleeves. She tried to button the jacket in front because she didn't have sensation or control in all her fingers, Cruz did that for her.
"And the smaller kids too."
"Bobby and Cindy?" Cruz continued work on her ankles. "I thought Bobby and Cindy good kids."
"Yeah, me too."
"How's come?"
"They're going to kill me." She tried not to sob.
"How come?"
"Raped me."
"Who raped?"
"John."
Cruz finished sawing the ropes keeping Barbara's ankles together. She was free now. A sensation she hadn't known in a week. Her movements were not smooth. Her muscles hadn't had full range of motion in too long of a time. Her hands and ankles had places of numbness. She had to use the palm of her hands together to pull the gag-rag and tape from her face completely.
"Yeah, him." Her face was smeared with dirt and tears. "He raped me. And they're going to kill me because of it. I think. I don't know." She shook her head.
Cruz sat cross-legged and helped ease her into his lap. "Cruz stop them."
Was this 'Cruz' the 'Picker' Barbara heard them mention? A transient crop picker. It felt so good to be held by someone who wasn't trying to force their will upon her. Force her into position to be tied up and rag shoved into her mouth to be taped in place.
The two women apparitions stood one on each side. The Settler placed her cape across Cruz's shoulders. After a minute the combined warmth eased Barbara's shivering.
"They'll be back. We have to get out of here." Barbara said.
"I have camp by river." Cruz offered.
"That's not good enough. They'll find us. We have to get to the Adams' car."
"I no drive car."
"I can drive. I even know where they keep the spare keys. The Adams showed me in case of an emergency."
FOOTSTEPS.
Barbara jumped.
Cruz slid her from his lap and stood.
The steps coming up the stairs were steady. A glow proceeded whoever was coming. Yellow, but not the golden yellow of the Settler and Native, who were positioned one on each side of Barbara and Cruz.
Bobby climbed up onto the landing. He carried several items. One was the kerosene lantern, next was a large blanket. Another looked to be a bag of food and water. And of course, his 410 shotgun.
The boy saw the blockade across the doorway. He was about to step over when he looked into the room, Gasping he dropped everything but the gun, and froze.
Cruz gestured to Barbara. "You do this?" He stepped in front of Barbara. "Bad child."
Bobby pointed the gun at Cruz bet ho shifted his scrutiny back and forth at all of them, Even Barbara
"Bobby," Barbara urged, "Help us. I know you can. I know you want to. What would a doctor do?"
The Settler-ghost moved toward Bobby. He aimed the shotgun at her and pulled the trigger. The shot was loud in the room. The apparition burst into tiny glowing embers like a rock thrown into a campfire. The small bird-shot ricocheted off the wall and scattered to roll on the floor some all the way back to Bobby.
The Native-ghost moved toward Bobby now. He broke the gun open and tossed away the spent shell. But he had trouble fishing another round from his pocket. When he got one out it flipped from his fumbling fingers to several yards away.
Cruz now started to move toward the boy.
"Bobby, don't do this. Please, please, help us." Barbara shouted.
Seeing two perceived opponents move toward him Bobby fled down the stairs, falling part way at the end. Then he raced out the door. Seconds later he was running through the fallow corn field shouting for John as he ran toward the other kid's house in just under a mile away.
Barbara moved immediately to what Bobby had been carrying. What she first thought was actually a blanket was actually a sleeping bag. The food was half a sandwich in wax paper and the drink a can of cola. Real food!
In the distance, Bobby's voice again shouted for John. Was the other older boy nearby? Even if not, Bobby could be to the other's house in five minutes at a full run, and they could both be back in ten, Less she thought if John was already along the way on the path from his home.
"We have to get moving." Barbara said shivering. Though she had the jacket, she was naked below the hips. "Our only hope is the car."
She cracked open the cap on the bottle of coke and drank half. Then she passed the rest to Cruz. He was reluctant at first, but Barbara insisted. As she split the half sandwich she imagined Bobby sitting in his sleeping bag, warm and comfortable as she would lay naked and hogtied in the chilled room. He would be doing his prisoner watch. Would he have shared the food with her? Would having food in her stomach upset Dianne's master plan, or would it BE PART of the plan as Cindy had revealed? She did not know the details of how they were going to kill her. "Come on," Barbara said as she stepped over the barricade, her legs still unsteady.
They worked their way down the stairs. She tried to decide if it were better to wear the sleeping bag like a shawl or carry it in a bundle in front of her. At the base of the stairs a flash of distant lightening yet to come, illuminated the room to one side. She saw it. The family's outdoor charcoal grill, a bag of charcoal, a tin of lighter fluid, and two fireplace pokers. That combination sent a shiver down her spine.
At the doorway she stopped them. She listened. There was no sound from Bobby's yelling. If he met John on the path here they could already be setting up an ambush. They could be shot just as they left the collapsing house. But they were going to kill her anyway, so she had nothing to loose. What about Cruz. She started for the door.
The lightening flashed again. Cruz grabbed her the arm and pulled. "Move, now." The gravel was hard on her feet. Weeds stuck up through the ground and poked hard. At one time when young she had toughened her soles and could run on the stones. But now it hurt, and hurt a lot. Seeing how it slowed her Cruz scooped her up into a carry.
Despite being a grown man, he was thin. Even after just 100 feet she could tell it was a strain on his arms.
"Stop," she said. "Can you do a fireman carry."
He was confused.
"Over your shoulder."
She put the sleeping back over him like a cape. Cruz lifted her on his shoulder. The going was slower but seemed less tiring to the man. Barbara kept watch behind them. The Settler and Native watched as they left, They almost seemed like a couple. Then they faded. With each illumination from the lightening she expected to see Bobby and John taking aim at them with their hunting guns. But she also thought that a fast death from a bullet would be better than whatever might be planned. Her mind lingered on the grill, charcoal, and pokers. Why? It made no sense to torture her. The kids had never openly expressed any anger or hate toward her.
"it's a good thing you were close by," she said and thought as she said it.
"Kids had some chores for me." Cruz said.
"Like what?"
"Moving furniture,"
Nothing needed moved, Barbara thought to herself.
The sound of Cruz's footsteps changed. They had reached the paved road which split the Adam's estate. "Stop. Let me down. I can walk here." Cruz obeyed. "Then they wanted me back at noon," he said through winded breaths.
"We're half way there," Barbara said. The way across the paved road was easy. Even walking the fine gravel and dirt of the Adam's driveway wasn't too hard on her bare feet. The house was in sight up the long driveway. All the lights were off. She motioned for Cruz to slow down and be more quiet. Was Cindy at the house? She was afraid of the dark. If not at the house, where? Hadn't Dianne said something about Cindy and her baking a cake?
In the distance there was the sound of a high pitched car engine. John owned a used 2-seater racing Fiat. The up-shifting through gears was distinctive. It quickly got louder.
"Hit the dirt," Cruz said pushing Barbara down. The car engine quickly got louder. This time the car was being down-shifted. Headlights were coming down the road fast. Both Cruz and Barbara pressed themselves against the ground. Cruz was slight on top and overlapping Barbara who's buttocks were naked. She was particularly sensitive having been anally raped when she was tired in a bent-over stappaddo in the Adams' basement. Hours before in that same position Dianne had forced her to give John oral sex. She had been raped every which way a woman could. John, who had been a virgin just a week ago was now an experienced rapist. She shook the memories from her mind.
The race car came into view as it was de-accelerating. This was it, it was over. They were caught. But the headlights swept past them as the car turned quick into the short driveway leading to the tenet house. Tires screeched on the paved road and turned into gravel being shoved on the tenet house driveway.
"Come on," Barbara said as she pushed Cruz up off of her and grabbed him by his shirt. "They might have seen us, but we still have a chance."
It was pitch black. They used the occasional flash of distant lightening to see the next ten to twenty yards. Back at the tenet house there were several brief gunshots. She wondered if they were shooting at the Settler and Native ghosts.
It seemed too easy. Barbara lead them to the side of the road where they could crouch-walk and not be as easily seen. They had no light, except for the occasional and unpredictable flashes of lightening.
They were almost there, a couple hundred feet at the most. A flash of distant lightening, then KER-POW from where the paved road meets the driveway that they were on. Cruz fell to his knees.
"No!" Barbara shouted. She grabbed him and pull. He resisted.
"Go," He said.
"No," she said with anger and jerked him forward. "Something tells me they'll kill you." She managed a half run towing him with all her strength.
A flash of light showed they were just fifty feet from the car. Running footsteps were on their way up the driveway. KER-POW. A window on the house cracked. They missed.
"Don't shoot HER!" Barbara was sure she heard Diane's shouting from behind them. "It'll ruin everything."
If they were going to kill her anyway why not just shoot her? She could hear their multiple sets of footsteps closing on them. If they had rope, which they likely did, she would be tied up, gagged, and back to where she was before. Cruz could be shot more, perhaps to death. With details worked out they might even be able to stage it such that Cruz killed her and the kids shot him to try and defend her. She involved this poor innocent man in what previously had been something happening only to her.
Cruz was hunched over but still managed to move. Survival-Barbara took over. With energy which surprised herself she got him moving. Then she thought. If they didn't want to hit her, then perhaps she could use herself as a shield. But her with his jacket on she could easily be mistaken for him. "We're here."
Barbara pulled off Cruz's jacket and threw it on his shoulders. There she was, stark naked again. The air was chilling but she was sweating. She got them moving, keeping herself, her naked self, between those with guns and Cruz.
She pushed them to the driver's side of the station wagon. The door was unlocked. Rarely did these rural people secure their cars. Barbara shoved Cruz in. She kept pushing until he crumpled to the floor on the passenger side. With panicked speed she reached around and locked all the other doors. She slid into the driver's seat. She shivered from the coldness. Pulling her door shut it seemed to bounce open again. John reached in and grabbed her arm. Barbara hooked her elbow into the steering wheel as John tried to pull her out. With her free hand she grabbed his arm and with all her might she sank her teeth into his thumb.
He yelled and pulled back without a hold on her. She saw Diane reaching in and managed to slam the door on her fingers. Diane screamed.
"Please God, please God..." She checked for the key. It was there! Into the ignition it went and she turned it. The engine growled to life.
"A rock, under the tire," Diane shouted.
In front of the car was a low but steep embankment. Barbara didn't know if the car could climb that. John was carrying something heavy from behind. She realized if he got a big enough rock right against the back tire it was over. She and Cruz would die.
Barbara threw the transmission into Drive and gunned the engine. The car couldn't climb the incline but the back tires spun and kicked dirt and gravel behind them. John screamed getting a face full of debris. Then Barbara threw the transmission into reverse. There were several bangs and bumps of something rolling under the car as she backed out. Clear of the parking place she put the headlights on, then the high-beams. John and Diane shielded their eyes from the blinding brightness. Though quite dismayed, none of the attackers looked seriously injured.
She quickly backed up, turned, and put the car to go forward. Gunning the engine she headed down the driveway. She turned onto the paved road without even slowing. Picking up speed she took a deep breath. Here she was naked speeding down the road. She shook hard. She suddenly felt cold and turned on the heater but the engine wasn't hot yet.. Whatever the apparitions did for her, if they were real at all, seemed to be wearing off. The sense of weakness was was worsening.
She looked at Cruz who wasn't moving. The jacket was loose over his back so she couldn't tell if he was breathing. "Cruz" she said. No response. "CRUZ," she yelled. There was a groan.
Though the Adams had a second car it was at the airport awaiting their return which wasn't till late the next day. She knew where the nearest emergency room was. All part of the Adams' babysitter briefing. Fifteen miles.
John's Fiat was only several hundred yards away at the tenet house. Though a retired sports car the Fiat would be faster than the station wagon. She sped up. Rain began sprinkling on the windshield. Maybe it would hinder their visibility. Barbara also turned off the headlights but kept the amber parking lights on. If she didn't touch the brake pedal the brake lights should be off. She also rotated the headlight pull switch to turn the dashboard illumination off.
The Fiat was a convertible. She hoped the top was down so it might add a minute to their escape for them to put the top up. Did they know what direction they turned onto the paved road? Barbara kept checking the mirror and the road ahead repeatedly.
Two miles behind headlights shined out from about where the tenet house was. Then the headlights became red brake lights. They guessed wrong. What was the other direction that made them think that. There was a small town in about 5 miles. Maybe they had an on-duty cop there and John and Dianne wanted to intercept them if they went that direction. The direction Barbara and Cruz were going had several more miles of empty road. Did they know that they managed to hit Cruz?
She let up off the gas pedal to slow a bit without risking the brake lights coming on. There were no longer any visible car lights behind them. There was a gas station a mile ahead but there were no lights on. It was closed for the night. She took her food completely off the gas. Half a mile to the station she put some pressure on the brake pedal. But it felt odd. It went too far before she sensed any braking. Then a red light came on the dashboard that read BRAKE. It took a couple second for her to wonder if the rock she backed over might have damaged the brake line. She cursed.
She managed to pull into the dark gas station and bring the station wagon to a stop. Barbara put on the dome light and pulled backed back Cruz's Jacket.
Barbara reached down. There was blood. She had been a lifeguard once which included Basic First Aid training. But she had nothing to provide first aid with. It wasn't like she could tear off a piece of clothing to apply direct pressure. There wasn't a lot of blood but that was external. The source was on the right side of the middle of his back. There was 10 more miles to the Emergency Room. "Cruz," she urged. He groaned again. "I'm going to get you to the hospital," she said out loud, Silently to herself she said "or try to."
An odor of gasoline came in the heater vent. The fuel gauge showed she had used more fuel than her driving would account for.
She pull the car up to get back onto the road. In the distant, maybe several miles, there were car headlights. Could it be them, she wondered. Should she hide? No, they might have seen her own lights by now. Barbara accelerated onto the road. Exceeding the speed limit she kept a glancing watch in the mirror. If it was them, and she ran out of gas, or crashed because of loss of the brakes then she would be theirs. If she died in a crash it might be merciful. She again thought of the charcoal grill and hot pokers. There was no other reason for them to be there.
Three more miles and she felt weaker, tired, exhausted all over again. The headlights behind them seemed closer. Could it be a cop? She couldn't take the chance that it wasn't. She sped up. If it was a steady leak of gas it would be the same no matter her speed. So she should go as fast as she dared.
Two more miles and the car behind was definitely closer. It was exceeding her excess of the speed limit. All the boost in health she felt from the apparitions was gone. Her concentration on the lines in the road waned. Five more miles, she thought to herself. The car behind would overtake her by then. The gas gauge show a definite loss of fuel. The brake warning light began to flash. It wasn't doing that before.
Lights from a town were ahead in the distance. Could she pull over somewhere there? But it was late at night. Most everything in these small rural towns would be closed. She started to cry. So close. But she spent a weak where everything she tried failed. Why should it be any different now?
She tried to wipe the tears from her eyes but all she ended up doing is rubbing dirty sweat into her eyes. It burned. She was a mess. Her face was dirty. So was her chest, stomach, and thighs where she spent most of the time in contact with the filthy cold floor. Under the dirt smears on her skin were bruises and ligature marks, worst of which were on her wrists and ankles. She still had adhesive from the tape on her face. She drifted into the memory of that distant yet still too close place.
She jerked awake as she started to drift off the road. A couple miles yet. The car behind was closer still. If it had been a cop it would have turned it's flashing lights. Instead it's hi-beams came on. Barbara had to flip the dimmer setting on the mirror. Her heart beat fast but also felt weak. She felt dizzy. "Please God, just two more miles. Please, please, please." She turned on the headlights hoping it would help fight off the drowsiness.
The car caught up to her. It was hard to see through the high beams but it looked small, like a Fiat. She could not see inside. It first match speed then moved to pass her. Barbara swerved to block it. The car backed off, then tried the other side. She blocked it again. Suddenly the back window shattered yet stayed in one piece. The shotgun! It WAS them. A mile ahead the hospital lights became visible. She focused her concentration.
As the entrance to the hospital parking came up, Barbara applied the brakes. Nothing. The petal went easily to the floor. There was no way to slow down except the emergency brake, but she didn't think that would be effective at her current speed. The parking lot was surrounded by hedges. Each row through the lot was separated by shrubbery lined walkways. At this time of night the lot was mostly empty. Barbara made a panicked decision. She put the transmission in neutral. No need to keep the engine from trying to speed them up.
Going directly toward the well marked emergence entrance would cut through the lot at a diagonal. She turned and hit the first row of hedges. Barbara was thrown forward as the hedges acted like a break. The car was still going fast when it hit the shrubbery of the first parking row. The car bounced up and down as it went over the raised walkway.
Her speed had been cut in half. She had to steer to avoid some trees. She hit the next row of shrubs. There was only one more row ahead and she was still going too fast. Barbara had no idea where the other car was. Strait ahead was the entrance. A marked car was parked off to the side. It was some kind of official vehicle, maybe hospital security. As best she could tell there was no one in the car.
The last row of foliage threw her side to side. The car was directly ahead. She grabbed the emergency brake and pulled the handle up as hard as she could. There was a horrific screeching sound. She was still going too fast. The security car was directly ahead. Barbara closed her eyes and braced.
#
The world went from blackness to a dream-like sense of swirling motion. Where was she? What happened? The last thing she remember is that she was going to be killed. Killed by those following her in the other car.
Hands were on her. Voices talked in urgent tones. Lights were shined in her eyes. Something snug was fitted around her neck, not quite choking tight. Oh my God, this was it. She heard her own voice mutter "Don't kill me, I don't want to die. I don't want to die, they're going to kill us..." over and over. Hands moved her. She tried to resist. She was held tighter, forced. Was she at the house? No it was cold here. She was at the dilapidated Tenet house. They were moving her. Moving her to somewhere to kill her. She tried to scream but only a dry hoarse croak came out. She couldn't move. She was being strapped to a board. She was being tied up again. This was it. The dream of escaping was over, or maybe it never had really started.
#
The world swirled and swayed. Suddenly it was bright. Bright light. Light after light. Had death come to claim her? She cried. "Don't kill me. I don't want to die." in response a strange voiced said to her "On three, one, two, lift." She moved sideways. The light was brighter still. Something covered her face which made a hiss. They had nearly smothered her with a pillow once before. She tried to reach up but her arms were once again bound. Someone, (Paul?) was poking pricking her arms with his pocket knife.
"Deary, what's your name." They knew her name. But this was a new voice. "What's your name?"
"Barbara," she muttered. She so needed a drink of water. Something squeezed her one arm. It was familiar in a way. "Eight over forty," someone said. There were voices, too many voices.
There was a flash followed by a buzzing sound. Then another, and another. She thought of the lightening and something else. "Cruz." she mumbled, "He's been shot."
"Take it easy." was said above her. Her wrists and ankles were prodded and touch. A gentle touching moved all over her body. She cried. "I don't want... Please don't..." The world dissolved into a gray cloud. She woke to movement. "What?" Barbara muttered. "A soft woman's voice said "We're taking you to x-ray." Clear plastic tubes came from plastic bags above and went to her arms. She tried to move, but couldn't.
"You keep trying to pull out the IV's," the soft voice said. "Take it easy. You're safe." Those words had an intense meaning for her. Those words enveloped her up into a warm place. "Cruz," She said again.
"They're working on him," a woman's voice assured.
She woke again. She was on a table being positioned different ways. There was a soft buzz. Then a new position. Someone was touching her again. Words like "contusion" and "ligature" were being spoken. For the first time a fully formed thought came to mind. She was at a hospital. She cried. "They were going to kill me, both us."
Shhh, the voice soothed. Save it for the cops. They will talk to you soon. We first had to rule out any head and spinal injury, now we can give you some pain medication."
Barbara understood all the words. This was real. Please let it be real. Please God let it be real. She thought to herself. It hurt as they moved and positioned her for x-rays. But the hurt to her meant she was alive.
Then she remembered."Cruz." she said.
"The guy with you? He's in surgery. Doctors think he'll make it just fine." She smiled, nodded, and cried. "So cold," she shivered as she spoke. Next time she woke she had blankets and a heating pad making her comfortably warm. She slept for 12 hours. Her parents had arrived and were waiting when next she was up.
EPILOG
The Freedom-Five never met again. They never had a vote on anything.
There was a frenzy of news activity. Reporters kept asking to see Barbara, the babysitter who barely escaped being murdered by the kids she was hired to care for.
Several retired Secret Service agents provided free security to Barbara as Dianne and John were still at large.
Barbara also received donations and change her school and major from child development to counseling of rape and abused women. She became the most respected counselor where she was hired. Women who found it difficult to open up to others, could confide in her.
The Adam's found high priced lawyers. Cindy was the one who revealed the most of what had happened. Within a year the Adam's movie away, not to just another part of the country, but to Europe. Once vacant the Adams' family house mysteriously burned to the ground. Curiously the Tenet house continued to stand.
Bobby dwelled and could not shake his remorse for not standing up and saving Barbara himself. He survived one suicide attempt and it was Barbara herself who preventing him from trying more. He became a successful veterinarian.
Cindy seemed least affected by what had happened. She became a successful, and somewhat feared businesswoman. Rumors were that she continued to have a secret contact with Dianne.
Cruz received money donations and bought a portion of land when the Adams' estate was divided up Cruz bought the Tenet house, the corn field behind it and a strip of land leading to the river. Cruz repaired the house and lived in it. At harvest season he ran a "pick-your own" business. More than once Cruz claimed he had seen the apparitions. Sometimes Barbara would visit him.
Paul found himself in an institution, which was acceptable to the courts until he was an adult when he promptly disappeared. Some believe he joined up with his sister Dianne.