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The Dark: A Collection (Point Horror) Page 16
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"I wish I were hallucinating," Bianca sobbed. "Mike Fellini escaped from prison. He's the brother of Harry Fellini, the guy I was going out with. Mike hates me because I didn't let him kidnap Little Katie. Instead he got captured and returned to prison. He swore revenge on me. So when he broke out of jail, Mike followed me on my way to summer school and chased me through the cemetery. When I tried hiding in the big mausoleum, he slapped me inside a casket. The casket's barely cracked open so I can breathe."
"I'll be there in an instant. Stay on the phone. Don't hang up. I don't want to risk losing contact with you for one second."
At least Ronnie believed her! Bianca guessed that after he had found her lying tied to an oak tree beside a swamp with a steak tied to her foot and an alligator chomping her tennis shoe, he would believe anything.
Every second seemed like an eternity as she waited in the casket for Ronnie to find her. He kept on talking to her every few minutes. She could hear him getting into his car and slamming the door. She could hear the sounds of traffic. While she waited, Bianca felt connected to the real world.
"I've just arrived here at the cemetery. It says Christ's Church."
"That's the one!"
"I'm coming after you," Ronnie promised.
"It's the big mausoleum. It's taller than all the others. Older, too. It's a real dingy gray. It's right in the middle of the cemetery beside a big live oak tree with lots of Spanish moss." Bianca tried to remember all the details.
Finally she could hear footsteps in the grass outside the mausoleum. Her heart started pounding faster.
"I'm in here!" she called out as loudly as she could.
The rusty door swung open. Ronnie broke open the casket and snatched her up into his arms. She wrapped her arms around him and hugged him to her as if she never intended to let go.
"Now try to stay calm. You're safe and sound. You'll be all right," Ronnie assured Bianca as he stroked her back and smoothed down her mussed-up hair.
He carried her out of the mausoleum to his car parked along the side of the street. She clutched him around his neck and buried her face in his chest. Bianca couldn't stop sobbing from fright as Ronnie put her down next to him in the front seat. Her arms closed around his waist as he got on his cellphone and called 911.
"Dr. Byron Kingsley here. I'm at the Christ's Church Cemetery." He spoke with the sound of command as he stroked her head. "Get me the police."
He waited a second before he was connected.
"I have Bianca Winters in my car. There's been attempted foul play. Yes, officer, Mike Fellini clapped her into a casket in the old McCollough mausoleum. That's right, the oldest one in the cemetery. That's where I found her — inside a casket with just enough space to breathe. She called me on her cellphone and asked me to come and get her."
The McCollough mausoleum? That had to be Doc's family from a long time ago! She'd been inside the casket of one of his female ancestors. The new McCollough mausoleum, the one from which Doc had been exiled, was on the other side of the cemetery. She'd seen it when she'd gone to Doc's funeral to watch him being buried in a pauper's grave.
"How did you know it was the old McCollough mausoleum?" She dried her tears as they waited together for the police to arrive.
"It said so right on the front, in faded letters," he replied matter-of-factly.
She flushed as she continued to dab her eyes. How stupid of her! She had not been paying attention.
"Wipe all thoughts of what has happened from your mind. Think of nothing except relaxing. Visualize yourself relaxing each part of your body one at a time. First let your right arm go limp, then your left. Think that it feels heavy. Let your right leg go limp, then your left. Relax your neck. Think that you can't hold it upright any more. Try to slump against the seat and feel tired as if you could go to sleep."
"But — but I can't go to sleep now! I — I could have died!"
He took her chin between his fingers and stared deep into her eyes, giving her a strange feeling that she could not quite put her finger on.
"Many people go through near-death experiences and survive to tell about them — many more than you can possibly imagine. You can't dwell on the past. You have to go forward."
She nodded obediently and stopped sniffling. She sat there silently while the police swarmed around their car. Ronnie got out to help them.
At the last minute he leaned in the window.
"Wait here with the doors locked. Don't go anywhere or talk to anyone until I get back."
Ronnie led the police back into the cemetery to the exact spot where he had found her. Bianca waited there with the air-conditioning running. When he still did not return after awhile, she leaped out and looked around. She paced back and forth in front of the car, not liking to be left alone. Despite the fact that Ronnie had told her not to, she even started into the cemetery to look for him.
She spotted his blond head rising above a bush. She heard voices as Ronnie approached talking to the policemen. They were taking notes based on what he was telling them. He saw her at once and frowned, motioning for her to climb back into the car.
"As long as Miss Winters feels well enough, we could ask her some questions," the policeman suggested.
Ronnie said nothing, though he crossed his brows at Bianca. It seemed that he had wanted to spare her this ordeal. He stood quietly beside her while the policeman asked question after question. Finally Ronnie gave the officer his card and drove Bianca home. He accompanied her inside the house.
There was a note from her parents on the kitchen table. They were going to be away for a week on business for their travel agency.
"This is no place to leave you for the next few days," Ronnie told her. "You're coming home with me to my apartment. I don't have any roommates. I've got plenty of space."
"But-"
He started to lead her toward his car.
"I need to pack." She tried to stall and think. He was rushing her so fast!
"Remember what I warned you about post-traumatic stress syndrome. Somebody who has your past — I took the liberty of looking up your medical records at the hospital — and who was just stranded on the roof of the lighthouse and almost killed by an assailant three times in one week shouldn't be left alone."
Bianca guessed she had to agree. Besides, as she looked into his eyes, he smiled at her. He quelled all her doubts about going to a stranger's apartment.
He stood by while she put a few items into a suitcase and wrote a note in case her parents should return earlier than planned.
As soon as she'd unpacked, Ronnie told her that they would practice some relaxation techniques in the living room. That sounded like a good idea. He told her to lie down and make herself comfortable on the sofa. He helped her put her feet up on a pillow. He propped her head up on another pillow.
"Comfortable?" He asked.
She nodded.
He repeated his mantra about relaxing one leg and one arm at a time. Something about his presence was making her heart beat faster and faster rather than relaxing her. He leaned closer while he was talking to her. Her heart pounded against her chest.
Ronnie stopped talking and kissed her lips. The touch of his lips stunned Bianca. Again she felt deja vu. She felt transported back to several months ago, even a year or more. She had placed all her trust in "Doc" Ernie McCollough in those days. In fact, she had adored him before she'd found out what he had been up to. Still she could summon up the feeling, despite all that had happened.
Strange, she was beginning to feel that way again with this new young man from England!
Ronnie moved from her lips to her chin and down her neck, tracing a path with his lips. He kept on repeating as he did so, "Relax at my touch," in a tone of voice that was hypnotic. He pulled up her T-shirt and kissed her breasts. He traced a path down to her belly button, unzipping her jeans. She felt herself yielding to him completely. For a moment she experienced a quaver of a doubt, until she remembered seeing Harry with Maria
nna at the cafe. Then she had no more doubts.
"Good, now you're relaxed." Ronnie got up to make tea, almost as if this were part of every doctor's routine for making a patient relax.
Her body was still throbbing to his touch.
He had her stay in his apartment even after he left for the hospital. He told her to make a late dinner. When he got back, he ate and went to bed early. She could hardly sleep, tossing, turning and thinking about how strange the bed was and how dark it was in her separate bedroom. The bed somehow seemed too high off the ground. With the door shut, she could hardly breathe. She kept on thinking about the casket.
Bianca crept over to Ronnie's bedroom in the middle of the night. She remembered this was how she used to behave with Doc. They would stay late at the medical library. He would say it was too late to go back home. They'd check into a motel. At first he would study. They would go to sleep in separate beds. She'd ask to come into his bed at some time during the night because the darkness would be getting to her. He'd let her.
"Please!" she urged Ronnie when she saw his eyes open. "I need some company. You see, I'm still scared of the dark. I thought I was licking it this spring. During the past few days, ever since the lighthouse, I feel much worse."
He pulled back the covers for her.
Near morning she got up to go to the bathroom. She came back to bed. A ray of light illuminated Ronnie's body in a certain pose that sent shock waves through her. It reminded her exactly of the way Doc used to sleep. When Ronnie turned and she could see his face, she felt reassured again that he wasn't a ghost. She could snuggle up against Ronnie and go back to sleep.
Chapter 4
When Bianca woke up later in the morning, Ronnie was at his desk, studying patients' records in preparation for going on duty at the hospital. She made scrambled eggs and bacon. While the bacon was sizzling and she was turning it over, she remembered Harry. The memory stung more than the bacon spitting at her and burning her arm.
Harry. . . This was the first time that she'd been unfaithful to him since they'd met that May night at the movie theater. She couldn't blame herself entirely, though. Harry had been two-timing her with Marianna. She and Harry had to talk. She longed for the intimacy of their conversations, where they bared their souls to each other and discussed matters as equals.
She served Ronnie breakfast at his desk. He was on the phone talking to the hospital as he ate. While she was eating her own breakfast alone in the kitchen, she got out her cellphone. She punched in Harry's dorm phone number. His answering machine came on.
"Hello, Harry, I've got to talk to you. This is Bianca." Bianca started to leave a message. She glanced back over her shoulder. She was afraid that Ronnie would hear.
"Harry's not here right now. He's in class." A female voice with a nasal snort interrupted Bianca's recording. She spoke in a southern accent. "Could I take a message?"
Bianca pressed the end button. She threw the phone down and stared at it before she burst into tears. That had been Marianna. There could be no doubt about it.
"Harry Fellini is part of your problem." Ronnie slipped his arm around her shoulders. "You should have better taste. He's after your money."
She groaned. "That must be why he took one hundred thousand out of my account without saying anything."
"Call your banker right now. Instruct him that Harry Fellini can't withdraw any more."
"But — but I told his mother that if they needed anything. . ."
"The Shipleys have been generous enough with that Fellini crime family. I took the liberty of reading back issues of the newspaper in the hospital library to acquaint myself with the situation. You don't have to give the Fellinis another cent — believe me!"
Ronnie found the banker's number in her address book. He handed her the phone. She stuttered and acted awkward. As it turned out, the banker thoroughly agreed with Ronnie. Harry wasn't to be trusted.
So it went for the rest of the week. Her parents were away. Bianca lived in Ronnie's apartment when she wasn't in summer school or at the Shipleys. She did the cooking and housekeeping. Ronnie rarely took her out. He said that he was too tired after his rounds at the hospital. He preferred to stay home and teach her to relax.
Bianca's fears didn't seem to be abating since Mike Fellini had locked her inside a coffin. The felon was still at large, which accounted for some of her jitters. Ronnie had to start dropping her off at school and picking her up. He took turns along with the Shipleys, despite the fact that her car had been towed back to her house from Fort Frederica. Bianca was afraid to walk or drive alone near the cemetery. The trees there made it dark on a bright, sunny day. Besides most summer days in Georgia were overcast. The sky was white and washed out, if not downright cloudy.
In summer school her English class was supposed to put on a play. Since the incident at the lighthouse, Bianca couldn't climb the narrow stairs up to the stage without clutching the railing. The stage had never seemed too high before. Now it did.
The upper floor at the library? Forget it! She couldn't ascend the narrow, spiral staircase to save her life, not without getting down on her hands and knees and crawling. If she needed a book, a librarian had to fetch it. Either that or Bianca did her research online.
Ronnie often met her at the library. He made a point of watching her climb up and down the spiral staircase, encouraging her as she did so. Her legs were so wobbly she felt like a cripple.
On Friday her English teacher assigned Bianca a paper that was due Monday. She had to do research about Edgar Allan Poe in the library and stay after school real late. Even the librarian had left. The librarian had instructed her to close up after she was finished. Everybody trusted Bianca. Bianca Winters was the heroine of St. Simons Island. Only lately she hadn't felt much like a heroine.
As she read, the hairs on the top of Bianca's head stood up on end. Somebody was watching her. During the last few months she'd learned to trust her instincts. She leaped up from the table where she had been taking notes and hid behind a row of encyclopedias on the lower floor.
The lights blinked out. Only a pale glow filtered in through the windows. It was cloudy and dark, right before a summer thunderstorm. She waited until she saw a darting shadow behind the next stack. She made a dash for it to the elevator, illuminated by a red emergency light. She raced inside. The doors closed behind her.
"I'm not happy with you, Bianca. Not only do you prevent me from taking Little Katie and ending this all real fast, but now the police are snooping on the street outside my hideout. Police make me nervous, Bianca. I don't like to see them drive past in a squad car."
"Mike?" she asked. "Is that you?" He was talking in a bare whisper so as to disguise his voice.
"Do you think I'd be stupid enough to tell you who I am? You'll find out soon enough. Then I pity you, Bianca. Do you hear me? I pity you."
She could feel his hot breath on her neck. He toyed with her, making his fingers skitter up and down her throat. His fingers closed around her windpipe and pressed down.
The elevator must be broken. It went up and down from floor to floor without stopping. She didn't know if it was because of the thunderstorm or because the stalker had control of it. Finally the doors opened. She screamed and darted out. At the end of the darkened hallway, Bianca ran smack into a head of dark, flyaway hair.
"I'm home for the weekend!" Harry hugged her. "I rushed back from Brunswick and almost got a speeding ticket. Your parents told me you were here researching a paper."
Bianca gasped. For a minute she wondered whether it had been Harry in the elevator shaft. There was nobody else around. He didn't usually sneak up on her like this.
She remembered the girl who had answered the phone when she had called Harry's dorm room — Marianna Haynes. Bianca could hear her sugary sweet, southern accent. She could imagine Marianna holding Harry's hand and squeezing it in the cafe. The $100,000 withdrawal from her bank account flashed through her mind.
Bianca smacked Harry
across the face.
He gaped at her and blinked. "What did I do wrong, hon?"
"Don't play innocent. I thought we were supposed to share everything, tell each other everything." She glowered at Harry.
He looked at her blankly. "That's exactly what I do every day."
"How can you stand there and tell me that after everything I've seen?"
"Hon, I was back here on Monday. I don't remember your saying any of this then. What's come up? Why didn't you call me if something's wrong?"
"Why didn't I call you?" Was Harry mocking her? Without another word, Bianca stomped out of the building.
Harry grabbed her by the shoulders and spun her around to face him. "Bianca, you're not acting like yourself."
"Ronnie says I shouldn't believe you, that you've been after my money all along, and—"
"Who's this Ronnie dude?"
"Dr. Byron Kingsley is the hospital intern who carried me down from the lighthouse on Monday. He's a doctor specializing in psychiatry from England."
She didn't mention how he'd saved her from the casket and the alligator. Now she felt she was on shaky ground. She'd been living with Ronnie for the whole week in his apartment. Harry knew nothing about it.
Harry first paled, then turned red in the face. "I'm gonna go find this creep and have it out with him."
"I saw you with Marianna Haynes at Charley's Cafe in the Village. I heard Marianna answer your dorm phone. There's no way to pretend you didn't withdraw one hundred thousand dollars from my bank account without even asking me. Not that I begrudge you the money. But I'm not gonna have you spend it on other girls behind my back."
Harry's jaw dropped. He looked so shocked that he wobbled on his feet and caught on to a nearby trash bin to steady himself.
"Now wait a minute. . . After the way we feel about each other, how could you believe any of this crap. . ."
"Simple. I saw it with my own eyes."
"I wasn't out with Marianna Haynes. There haven't been any girls in my dorm room. I've never taken any money from you in my life."