“You know, you could have come here. We have a guest room.”
“Naahh.” He shook his head as he uttered the negative. “I think I need some space right now.”
“As long as you don’t withdraw too much.”
“Yeah,” he agreed.
“So how is Ben junior handling it?”
“About as well as can be expected I guess.”
“What about you? You doing okay?”
He gave an embarrassed chuckle. “Apparently not as okay as I thought I was.”
“I’m sure it’s a big adjustment,” I offered.
“Yeah, you could say that.”
“So, I know you’ve got Helen, but if you need another ear…” I let my voice trail off.
“Yeah, I know. I appreciate it, white man.”
“No problem. So… At the risk of prying, is this something you two are going to be able to work out?”
He was just about to answer me when Felicity’s terrified scream shattered the newfound calmness of the night.
CHAPTER 21:
Just as I had witnessed less than two days before, the audible signal of distress served as a trigger, sending my friend’s hand immediately to his sidearm. His now alert gaze swung instantly in the direction of the scream. I’m not sure which one of us began moving first, but I just barely made it to the back door in front of him. In either case, the dogs had overtaken us, and we were both stumbling over them as they yapped wildly at the door. I pushed through to the interior of the house, immediately on the heels of the boisterous canines, and my friend was at my back, physically urging me ahead at a quickening pace.
The dogs had left us in their wake, and I could now hear them whining; the high-pitched noise was interspersed with low growls, and that punctuated the now random barks. Advancing through the kitchen, I caught fleeting glimpses of our cats, fur puffed out in panic, as they darted in opposing directions, two of them literally bouncing from one another before continuing to individual hiding places.
I hooked through the kitchen doorway, into the dining room, and then continued through, my arc leading me down the hallway to our bedroom. I hit the door at as close to a dead run as I could manage in the short distance. The dogs were already scratching at the barrier, yelping and growling as they sought to protect their mistress from the unseen intruder.
Felicity was already splitting the darkness with a third scream. Of all the noises and exclamations I had ever heard coming from her, this had never been among them. This was something entirely new and beyond horrifying. At this moment, it frightened me more than anything in recent memory. It was a sound that made me painfully aware that blood could in fact run cold.
I could feel Ben at my back as I burst through the door and stepped into the darkened room. My gaze fell immediately to the bed but found only rumpled sheets partially illuminated by the swath of light that was projecting inward from the hallway. I reached to my side and slapped the light switch on the wall just above the headboard. Brightness leapt onto the tableau, and I brought my eyes up as my ears centered in on the terror-stricken shriek, which was only now beginning to trail off.
Felicity was cowering in the opposite corner, back pressed into the wall next to the bathroom door, hands holding either side of her head as she rocked in a frantic rhythm. Crimson trails were trickling down her arm from her bloody left hand, and an obvious smear blemished her cheek. I launched myself forward, swiveling around the end of the bed and dropping to my knees in front of my wife.
“Felicity?!” I called as I reached out and placed my hands on her trembling shoulders.
My touch proved only to elicit a new round of screams as she began flailing her arms and slapping at me blindly. Her eyes were fixed directly ahead, unblinking and dilated. Upon catching a glimpse of the glassy stare, I was convinced that she wasn’t even walking in this world.
“FELICITY!” I called again, grabbing at her wrists as I attempted to defend myself against her unconscious attack. “FELICITY! It’s me! Rowan!”
Her head snapped back, and she centered her unfocused stare on my face. Her arms stopped flailing, but she continued to tremble and rock. She sat wordlessly- looking through me more than at me.
I reached out and slowly started to brush back her hair. She flinched and I hesitated.
“It’s okay, Felicity,” I cooed softly. “It’s me. It’s Rowan.”
Slowly, I pushed my hand along the side of her cheek, lifting her auburn locks, and inspecting her milky skin. I could see no wound on her face, only the smear of crimson.
I continued whispering to her as I took her left hand in mine and turned the palm to face me. Deep gashes were cut into the tips of her index and middle fingers, and they were still oozing thick blood.
“What happened here?” I asked her softly but got no answer.
The dogs were trying to nose their way in for their own first hand inspection, and I could still feel Ben standing behind me.
I began to notice that the room seemed colder than usual, especially since at this hour of the morning the electronic thermostat would still have the air conditioner switched off in energy-saving mode.
I watched Felicity’s expression slowly change, recognition dawning in her eyes as she awakened from the dream state. She swallowed hard, and tears began to silently stream across her cheeks. I slipped my arms around my wife and pulled her close as she began to sob, rocking in harmony as I rubbed her back.
I heard Ben shuffle and then step past me into the bathroom. I didn’t pay much attention to what he was doing until I heard him slowly mutter, “Jeezus H. Christ.”
I continued slowly rocking Felicity but turned my head in his direction and looked up. He was staring at us, and we locked gazes for a moment before he turned away. When I followed his line of sight, I saw the object of his exclamation.
On the large mirror hanging above the double vanity smeared blood reflected in upon itself. Opaque red lines arced in deliberate, if smudged, patterns literally forming what appeared to be a map.
Below it, in unfamiliar, back-slanted writing were the words, FIND ME.
“You never should have done that binding…” I said, a note of sadness filling my voice.
I had just finished rinsing my wife’s wounded hand with peroxide for a second time and had now patted it dry. She was still wearing the oversized t-shirt she had been sleeping in, and it was covered with smears and spatters of blood down the left side. I had helped her pull on a pair of jeans and slip her feet into tennis shoes with the intention of taking her to the emergency room, but she would have none of that. She hated hospitals almost as much as Ben and adamantly refused to go even though I was sure she needed stitches. So, it was left up to me to play doctor.
The gashes were fairly deep and somewhat ragged, as she had made them with the sharp edge of a broken drinking glass. Even though I still felt that she should see a doctor, I had to admit that the cuts didn’t look nearly as bad as they had before they were cleaned up.
We were in the kitchen where we could both have a seat, and more importantly, I could spread out the first aid kit on the table. At the moment, I was snipping off strips of white tape from a metal spindle.
Ben was behind me, seated in the dining room and comparing a sketch of Felicity’s bloody rendering to a road atlas. Unfortunately, the image on the mirror, while obvious in its intent, was a smeary conglomeration of thick lines and devoid of any text labels, save for the ‘FIND ME’. Because of that, it was somewhat of a puzzle in and of itself.
Before getting started, he had called Agent Mandalay, catching her just as she was pulling into her driveway. She never even shut off her engine and now, was on her way back here.