Before we begin, I'd like to thank everyone for your reviews on my previous chapter. I'm so happy to see all the support. I was a little nervous in posting that one, since it was such a dramatic chapter. I'm so glad people responded well to it.
Alright then... Here's the next one:
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After Dewey had followed Sidney and Randy home to ensure they made it there safely, he took the liberty to drive by the motel where Gale was staying. He hadn't told her that he was going to, but he was worried about her. He felt bad for not sticking with her like he had said he would, but he couldn't exactly drag her around to crime scenes and police interrogations. He had a job to do, and that job required that he didn't bring civilians along with him, no matter how much he liked those particular civilians.
Gale had left Sidney's house quite clearly angry, and Dewey didn't like leaving things like that. Considering what was going on around Woodsboro lately, no one could ever know which conversation with someone they loved was going to be their last. He wouldn't be able to properly function knowing that Gale was upset with him. He had to make sure things were alright between them before he and she parted ways again, just in case.
He wished she had gone with Sidney and Randy though, so that at least all the people he cared about most would be in one single location that he could keep an eye on. But Gale was stubborn, and she wanted things her way or no way. She had told him with anger and annoyance in her voice that she'd just stay at the motel tonight, and no matter what Dewey said, she was probably not going to give in on that. All he could do was check in and hope she stayed safe when she wasn't in his presence.
As Dewey pulled into the motel's parking lot, his headlights caught some movement by the outdoor pool. The officer frowned as he squinted at the scene before him in an attempt to make out what exactly he was seeing. That certainly looked like their killer, cloaked in black, crouched down and straddling someone.
Quickly putting the car into park, Dewey left the headlights on so he could see the scene better, and jumped out. He grimaced as he moved around to the front of the car, immediately drawing his gun and rushing toward the two figures.
"Police!" he identified himself, as was common procedure, "put your hands in the air!" he demanded from a safe distance as he aimed his gun toward the darkly dressed figure, "stand up, hands in the air! Drop your weapon!" he couldn't see if the person even had a weapon, but assumed he did.
The person dressed in black - the person who seemed to have been attacking the other - did not stand or raise his hands in the air. Instead, he hesitated for a moment. All Dewey could see was the killer's back. The person under him seemed to be dressed in dark clothing as well. Dewey could only see what looked like a female's feet, wearing socks, but no shoes. Dewey was beginning to panic. Were those Gale's feet? There weren't many people staying at this motel.
His entire chest felt cold as he kept his gun on the suspect, "stand up!" Dewey ordered again, his voice now more stern than even he was used to. He was becoming very angry at the thought that this person may have hurt Gale, "now!" he demanded.
The killer slowly rose to his feet, pulling the other figure up off the ground, and turning around to face the officer.
Dewey's breath hitched in his throat when his suspicions were confirmed and he saw that it was Gale who the killer was holding onto. She was completely limp, with her head slumped forward and her hair hanging over her face. She didn't seem to have any visible injuries, but she didn't seem to be conscious. Was she dead? Dewey's throat felt dry and his eyes stung with un-shed tears, "let her go," he ordered, his voice cracking, "leave her alone, and turn yourself in," he kept his gun trained on the suspect, but his arms were shaking very slightly.
The killer simply stared ahead at the officer for a moment. The hollow eyes and set mouth of the ghost mask were impossible to read. He held Gale's limp form up with one arm and put his other hand lightly on her cheek, "think she can swim, Officer?" the killer's disguised voice spoke with a hint of amusement in its tone as he nodded very slightly toward the pool.
Dewey swallowed a lump in his throat, "there's nowhere you can go," he threatened, "just let her go and turn yourself in," he repeated his earlier suggestion as he stared more at Gale than the person gripping her unconscious body.
The reporter's eyes were closed and her mouth was almost pouting. Her eyebrows were knitted together as though she was in pain. He squinted. He could have sworn he saw her chest faintly rising and falling, "What did you do to her?" Dewey called out.
The killer did not answer. Instead, he simply shrugged, "think fast," he taunted as she shoved Gale toward the pool.
Dewey gasped as she fell in with a splash. The killer ran off in the other direction, toward the back of the building. For a moment, the officer hesitated, aiming his gun at the running suspect, but he didn't have time for vengeance just yet. The person he loved most in the world was currently unconscious and sinking into a pool. Dewey had no choice but to go after Gale instead of trying to catch the killer. If she was still alive, but unconscious, she would drown. He had to save her. So he dropped his gun and dove into the water, swimming as fast as he could until her reached her.
He wrapped his arm around her torso and let her head fall back against his shoulder as he paddled toward the pool's concrete deck. Climbing out while also maintaining his grip on Gale was a chore, but he eventually managed, laying the reporter down on the concrete as gently as he could considering he was also quite frantic.
Dewey leaned down over Gale, forgetting for now that the killer could be anywhere by this point. He had to make sure she was alright.
He put his hand over her heart and leaned down so that his ear was close to her mouth and nose. When he felt her faint breaths and heart beat, Dewey breathed out a sigh of relief, closing his eyes for a moment. He was so unbelievably happy that she wasn't dead. But she needed to wake up. She was probably hurt, and Dewey still needed to help her.
"Gale," he whispered as he looked her over. She was soaking wet, of course. As was he. She didn't look to have any injuries. Dewey wondered what had happened. What had the killer done to make her lose consciousness? He ran his hands carefully over her stomach and around to her back, checking for any stab wounds he might not have seen at first, "Gale?" he whispered again as he brushed some wet strands of hair off of her face, "wake up."
She continued to lay un-moving beneath him.
Dewey frowned as he pulled Gale up so that she was partially in his lap. She felt so cold. He hugged her close. It was then that he noticed the headlights which had been shining on them from his car were beginning to move.
He looked up toward where he had parked to see that the car was backing up.
"Fuck," he muttered under his breath as he hugged Gale closer. What if the killer was going to try to run over them? There didn't seem to be enough room on the pool deck for an entire car to fit between the pool and the building though.
The cop watched in confusion as whoever was driving the car simply backed it up, turned it around, and left the parking lot completely.
His attention was immediately drawn back to Gale when she began to cough and push weakly against his chest.
"Get off me," she gasped in a small, strained voice as she continued coughing.
For a moment, Dewey thought she was angry with him. He loosened his grip as he frowned. Then he realized that she probably wasn't exactly in her right mind. She was just waking up after having nearly been killed. She was probably confused about who had their arms wrapped around her, "Gale, it's me," Dewey explained.
"Dewey?" her voice sounded so shaken and hurt as she looked up into his eyes. Her own eyes were huge, and brimming with tears.
"Yeah, Gale," he hugged her tighter again as she threw her arms around him as well, "you're okay," he assured her, "you're going to be alright."
Dewey was entirely surprised when Gale began to sob into his chest. He kept his embrace around her shaking shoulders secure as she continued to cry. The officer frowned. She felt so small and fragile in his arms. The reporter was ordinarily so stoic and always appeared to lack any emotion other than annoyance. Seeing her like this was entirely foreign to him.
Rubbing soft circles on Gale's back and running the fingers of his other hand lightly through her hair, Dewey tried to speak calming words, "you're safe now," he promised, though he was really unsure if that was true. He felt her body trembling next to his, probably from the chill air mixed with the fact that she was drenched in pool water, "I won't leave you alone again," he promised, "you and I are sticking together from this point on. And I really mean it this time."
He wasn't even sure if Gale was hearing him at this point. She cried as she kept her arms wrapped around him. It felt like she was holding on to him for dear life, like she feared letting go of him. He kept his grip around her secure as well.
Her sobs didn't take long to subside. Gale wasn't the sort of person who showed weakness, and she seemed to remember that fairly quickly. Before long, she was simply sniffing every few seconds as her body continued to shake.
"What happened?" she wondered. Her voice was so soft he could barely hear her.
"He pushed you into the pool," Dewey frowned, "I just got here. I don't know what happened before that."
Gale broke her and Dewey's embrace as she pulled herself together quickly, wiping her hands across her cheeks and looking up at Dewey with large, tear-filled eyes, "did you catch him?" she asked. Her voice sounded strained and shaky.
Dewey frowned and shook his head, "no... When I got here, you were unconscious, and he threw you into the pool before running off. I couldn't save you and go after him too. I had to choose."
Gale's lip trembled as she hugged Dewey again, but she didn't say anything.
"What happened, Gale?" Dewey wondered. He wrapped his arms securely around her, "what did he do to you?"
"I heard sounds in the room next to mine," her voice was still much too soft as she spoke. Dewey rested his chin on top of her head, as she was laying against him with her head against his chest. He ran his hands up and down her arms in an attempt to warm them. She was freezing, "I had to make sure they were alright," the reporter continued, "so I went and knocked on their door. I got myself locked out, and the killer found me. I think he was really going to kill me this time, Dewey," she continued, "but I got the knife away from him. I kicked it into the pool."
Dewey glanced toward the pool, but couldn't see anything there from where he was sitting.
"But he tried to strangle me," Gale's voice trembled, "I fought with him, but he was just too strong. The last thing I remember before waking up just now was having his hands around my neck... but I remember your headlights. I didn't know it was you though."
Dewey frowned. If he hadn't gotten there when he did, Gale surely would have been killed. The killer had strangled her to the point where she actually lost consciousness. How close to death had she been? It pained him just to think about it. Gale had wanted the two of them to stick together, but he had chosen work over her. If she had been killed, it would have been all his fault, and even now, it was his fault that she had been hurt.
"We have to go, Dewey," Gale spoke, her voice still weak, "the killer is still out here somewhere."
"He took my car, Gale," Dewey frowned, "he just left. I don't think he's here anymore."
Gale looked over to where Dewey's car had been parked earlier, "we should call the police. And we should call Sidney and Randy and make sure they're alright. If the killer was going to kill me, maybe he's going after Sidney or Randy next."
Dewey nodded, "Is your camera man staying at this motel too? Could we use his phone?"
Gale shook her head, "he's here, but I knocked on his door earlier and he didn't answer. I thought maybe he was in the shower... Unless the killer killed him," she frowned.
"Let's try him again and then we'll go into the office if he doesn't answer," Dewey suggested.
Dewey stood up and helped Gale to her feet. It was much too cold outside right now to be walking around completely soaked. He could almost swear he nearly saw his own breath in the air. He wrapped his arm around Gale's shoulders and walked slowly with her back toward her room, "are you okay, Gale?" he asked. She hadn't ever really gone into much detail of what had gone down between her and the killer. It was quite possible she could be hurt more than she claimed.
"I'm fine," she assured him, though her voice shook. He could feel she was still shivering.
He nodded. Hopefully Xavier would have something dry for them to wear. Or they could at least use some of the motel's blankets until they were able to get out of here. He wondered if he should try to get Gale to go to the hospital.
They reached Xavier's room and Dewey knocked on it rather rapidly, "Police," he called out, more out of habit than anything, "open up."
He glanced down at Gale when there was no answer. She shrugged, "this is exactly what happened earlier. No answer at all. I hope he's okay."
"Xavier!" Dewey called out, "it's Dewey and Gale. We need to use your phone. Open the door, Xavier."
Still no answer.
"Oh my god," Gale gasped, "what if he's the killer?"
Dewey considered this. He didn't really know Xavier... at all, "do you think he could be?" the cop looked back down at Gale, "you know him better than I do."
"I don't know," Gale whispered, "I mean, obviously he doesn't seem like a killer. I wouldn't have let him work with me if I thought he was capable of murder... But I really don't know him. And we aren't exactly friends. He's very agreeable, but, well," she offered a dry laugh, "I wouldn't say I am. He probably hates me. That could be why the killer leaves notes about me meddling. Maybe Xavier doesn't like recording my reports and thinks I'm too harsh in gathering and delivering information. He knows the kind of work I do better than most do. Maybe he disagrees with my tactics, and I never even realized."
"Wait," Dewey looked down at her, "Notes? He just left one, didn't he?" Dewey frowned.
"Oh," Gale gestured toward her door. They made their way over to it. Sure enough, another note was taped to the door.
"Meddling reporter's room," Dewey read, "whoever the killer is, he certainly seems to have a bone to pick with you."
Gale frowned, "yeah," she agreed.
"I'm sorry," Dewey frowned as well, "that wasn't funny. I shouldn't have said that."
"It's fine," Gale squeezed his hand, "we need to get to a phone though. The killer was either staying in that room," she gestured to the room next to hers, "or he killed the person staying there. I heard a struggle... Or something. And that's the door he came out of right before he came after me. And Xavier might be dead too, if he's not the murderer."
Dewey nodded. They needed to get into those rooms in order to see who all was still among the living, or among the missing. They needed a record of who was staying at the motel so they'd know who needed to be accounted for. And of course, they needed to find a phone so Dewey could call for backup and make sure Sidney and Randy were alright.
So they made their way toward the office.
"No one was in here earlier," Gale spoke as she climbed the two steps up into the office, "I rang the bell on the desk and called out, but no one came."
Dewey walked in after her and called out, "hello?" there was no answer. He sighed and walked around the desk. They didn't have time to wait on the motel staff to decide to do their job. He needed to get backup here, now, and it would certainly be nice to dry off. He was freezing, and he knew Gale was too, if her constant shivering was any indication.
As he walked around the desk, he noticed something red out of the corner of his eye. With a sinking feeling in his heart, he turned toward the vibrant color. Sure enough, under the desk was a pool of blood, and of course, a body was laying in that pool of blood.
"Shit," Dewey murmured under his breath.
Gale walked around the desk in order to see what the cop was looking at, "Oh my god," she winced.
Dewey frowned and looked over at her, "is that the manager?"
Gale nodded, "yeah," she spoke in a small voice.
Dewey walked back around the desk to avoid walking too close to the body and possibly messing up any evidence that might be around the vicinity of the corpse. He reached over to the phone that was sitting on the other side. He put it up to his ear, but there was no dial tone, "the line's dead," he informed Gale.
"Of course it is," Gale sighed.
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Uh oh... Looks like they might be kind of trapped there... But at least Gale's okay, right? But where's the killer? :O
Please review. :)