Nightmare in Niceville (13 page)

“Lily Strykes.”

“Okay, Lily, I need to know some details. All of the survivors will be going through the same process. Are you ready?” he said.

Survivors
. I cringed at the word.

“I need to know who went with you to the movies, first and last names,” he continued.

“My best friend, Emily Micheals.” I pointed to Emily in the next bed. “Scott Samuels, Sarah Nelson, Jacob Andrews, Max Gareheart, Angela Winn, Luke Wilson, and Rachel Gallers.” I listed off all of the names. It was still painful to speak.

“Thank you. I'm sorry to ask you this, but can you tell me what happened to your friends?” Officer Drake asked.

“I don't really know much. Sarah and Scott were hurt. Emily too, of course, I think everyone was hurt, but I'm not sure.”

I took a deep breath, suddenly feeling like I was on the verge of tears or passing out. “I know for a fact Rachel . . . was killed. Max didn't make it either. And Angela was stabbed. I hope she's alive. I don't know anything for a fact. I'm sorry,” I said, trying to keep the tears from flowing out of my eyes.

“Thank you Lily, don't be sorry,” Officer Drake said, patting my shoulder. “I know thinking about what has happened can be painful, but try your best to answer the rest of the questions, okay?” he said gently. I nodded.

“Around what time did you arrive at the theater, and who were you with?” he asked.

I wiped tears away and sniffed. “I got there at around eight thirty, and Emily gave me a ride from my house,” I said, looking at the bed next to mine.

“Max Gareheart was the only one there besides us, except for the people working. Mark Landon and a girl behind the counter were the only people I saw, but there were more. And there were people I recognized, but didn't actually know,” I answered.

He scribbled something on his pad. “How many people would you say were in the building?” he asked.

“I'm not sure, I wasn't paying attention, but when we got out of our movie and . . . found them . . . there were maybe eleven, I think.” A few more tears slipped down my cheeks.

“When you say eleven, you mean that they were dead?” he asked quietly.

I nodded. “We were the only ones in our theater. Everyone was at a concert in the mall,” I added.

He continued scribbling in his pad. “You're doing great, Lily. Now I just need to know what happened after the movie.”

I felt my body tense and the tender areas flared. “Well, someone, I'm not sure who, suggested that we sneak into another movie. Since it wasn't very crowded . . .” I gave him a sheepish look. “We all agreed, except for Rachel. She wanted to go home. She left the theater, and we were about to pick a movie when we heard her scream.” I paused. Flashes of blood and dead bodies cut through my mind. My head moved slightly; I felt dizzy.

Officer Drake rested his hand on my arm, pulling me out of the memory and into his dark eyes. “You're doing great, Lily.”

My breath came in short spurts. I didn't want to have to talk or even think about this anymore, but I continued. I just wanted this to be over. “We all ran to see what was wrong and we found everything. There was . . . blood on the doors, and there were . . . people on the floor. We tried to leave, but the doors were somehow locked from the outside.”

“Please, continue with your story,” he said with a gentle smile.

“We decided to see if anyone else was alive and to hide, I guess. Scott went into the first two theaters alone, and he found other bodies. And then we got to the third theater. We heard a man screaming, ‘Where is she,' and a woman said she didn't know. Then he killed her. I thought I recognized the voice. He knew my name and I thought . . . thought it was my father. I was sure of it, but it wasn't him at all. I don't get it.” I felt my eyes tighten and my thoughts drift.

Officer Drake's voice brought me back quickly. “Your father? Why?” He straightened up in his chair.

I told him everything about my father as quickly as I could. He scribbled like a mad man, and when I finished my story, he looked at me with sad eyes.

“I'm sorry you and your friends had to go through this. I truly am, Lily.” He patted my hand. “What happened next?”

I swallowed the lump in my throat and continued. “We all hid together, and then the man got too close, so we separated and ran from theater to theater. I ended up with Scott and Rachel. We were waiting by one of the doors. The man snuck up on us, and he got Rachel, but Scott and I ran out. Just before you came, we tried to run, and I saw Emily and Sarah. They were alive, just beat up. But Max was on the ground . . . dead. Emily signaled for us to run, but he stabbed her in the leg. And I know Sarah has a lot of scratches, bad ones.” I poured out the rest of the nightmarish story. I felt exhausted just thinking through the whole thing again. I shivered even though the room wasn't cold.

Officer Drake nodded and scribbled. “Do you know what happened to Sarah?” he asked.

“The man started to walk toward me, but she jumped on his back, and he cut her ankles. Then she grabbed his leg, and he cut her arm, even worse than her legs. I don't know why she tried so hard to save me,” I said and let my eyes cloud over. Did she really care for me that much? Maybe Sarah had a strong will, a strong soul. I envied her tender heart, her infectious persistence.

“I just need a few more details, and that should be it,” he said and smiled. The smile didn't reach his cobalt eyes. I felt bad for him. I had the urge to reach out to him, to hug him.

“You have been through quite a bit tonight, Lily.”

“Not as bad as the others,” I said, still staring into space. Sarah might have been a little strange, but I vowed to always do anything for her. I would try to befriend her again, like I did last year. She deserved a friend, and I owed her my life.

“I have one more thing to cover. Do you have any idea as to why this man did what he did?” he asked as he pulled out a picture. The man's face stared at me with crazed eyes. The corner of his lip tilted up in horrific pleasure. I cowered away from the photo.

“This is him, correct?” he continued.

“Y–yes it is,” I answered shakily. “Before you got there, Sarah threw a piece of paper at me. I don't know how Sarah got it, but the man had written names on it.”

“Yes, we found that. Do you know what it means?”

“He had a family. His wife, Josie, got sick and died. And he killed his daughters, Mackenzie and Sophie, because they reminded him too much of her.” I looked down. “He said my dad started to love me, my mom, and Ashley again. The man was jealous of my father and my family. He murdered my father, then he came after us.” I felt extremely numb while I told him this part of the story. No tears, just numbness.

“How do you know all of that?” he asked, leaning forward with a new urgency.

“Because he told me. I used the names against him. Caught him by surprise. And everything poured out.”

Officer Drake was silent, and I could tell he was deep in thought.

“I wish I could help you more, but I've told you everything I can remember.” I leaned back onto the pillow. “Oh, I almost forgot!” I jolted up and immediately recoiled and winced. More quietly I spoke, “Do you know if Scott or Sarah is awake . . . if they are okay?” I asked rewording my question because I didn't know if they were even alive. No, I
knew
they were alive.

“I'm not sure about Sarah, but Scott is sleeping.”

I sighed in relief, and a miniscule weight lifted off my shoulders. At least someone wouldn't have scars . . . visible ones anyway.

“Thank you,” I said.

“No, thank you, Lily. You are a very brave girl. Here is my cell phone number. If you remember anything else, call me right away.” He handed me his business card. He stood up, waved, then left the room.

I looked around the room for a little while before I closed my eyes. The man's face, with the hateful eyes and bloody knife, flashed across my memory. I gasped and my eyes flew open. I would not be resting for quite some time.

26

Lily

S
ince sleeping was out of the question, I decided to surf the TV. The most interesting thing I could find was an infomercial on vacuum cleaners. I pressed the power button, and the TV made a crackling noise as the screen went blank. There was a small tap on the door.

“Lily?” a voice said, quietly and shyly. Jean was standing in the doorway with her hands behind her back. Her head was bent slightly toward the floor. I was a little surprised.

“Hi, Jean. It's good to see you, but what are you doing here?” She seemed confused by my question. “I mean, how did you find out so fast?”

“Oh, um, Brody called me. He'd heard from Luke, and I wanted to come see if everyone was doing all right.”

“Oh,” I said. It was already happening, and the sun hadn't even come up yet. The whole school was going to know everything by tomorrow afternoon, if not sooner. Everyone would know what happened . . .

“How are you?” She slowly walked over and sat in the chair next to my bed. Her eyes were puffy.

“I'm fine, just really tired. Are you okay? You look like you've been crying,” I asked cautiously. My mind was already preparing itself to hear that someone else didn't make it, another one of our friends gone because of me.

“Oh, I'm okay, I was just thinking about everything that happened. I feel terrible. I mean, what about Max's parents? Doesn't Rachel have a little brother that looks up to her? And Jacob! What about all of them? They have families that will miss them!” she blabbered and broke off into a sob. She buried her face in the side of the bed, trying to muffle the noise.

I sat up a little to rub the back of her head even though it hurt my stomach. I was feeling her sadness, but I was relieved that no one else was gone. She was just feeling her emotions, and I was glad.

“I know, I'm sorry about all of them too.” My voice broke as a few tears of my own fell. “The whole thing is my fault! That man was looking for me, and if I hadn't been there, then everyone would still be alive! Why did this happen? I killed our friends! I killed them! I'm making their families mourn. Why?” I poured out self-hatred for myself and for the world around me. It felt really good to say everything I was feeling. It was like pumping up a balloon and stretching it until it was about to pop, then letting the air seep out slowly.

Jean grabbed my hand. “That's not true, Lily. You couldn't have known this would happen. It's not anybody's fault,” she said in a comforting voice through her tears. “And even though it's sad to think about it this way, if you weren't there, everybody would have died in vain. He would have . . . killed those people and our friends looking for you no matter what. He would have come to your house. Sad and horrible things have to happen in our lives for us to grow and to learn.”

Jean was silent then. She held my hand tightly.

“We can all get through this. They are all in a better, peaceful place, and we should be grateful for those who did survive. I'm just trying to get past the fact that when we go to school . . . they won't be there,” Jean said.

She spoke such wise things, and I didn't know what to say at first. “I can't see the good like you do. I put everyone in danger.”

“You still couldn't have known, Lily.” She patted my hand. We were silent for a while.

“Hey, at least you still have Brody,” I said.

She looked surprised. “What do you mean?”

I smiled. “He called you in the middle of the night, didn't he?”

She smiled this time. “Well, we're not officially together yet.”

“You guys would be cute. You'll be ‘official' soon enough. And he seems really sweet.”

“He really is.”

“Good, I'm sure he'll ask you out soon. He's probably just nervous because you're so pretty.” We both smiled, too glum to full-on laugh at the moment.

“Thanks, Lily, I feel a little better.”

“Me too . . . that helped more than I thought it would. I wonder where my mom is,” I said quietly, setting my hand down on my lap and staring at the wall. “She should be back by now.”

“I can go find her if you'd like,” she said.

“That's okay,” I replied. For some reason, I felt like being numb. Like I wanted to be blind, deaf, mute, and have no sense of smell or taste. Like I was nothing.

Jean stood and stretched. “You're not cold in here, are you?” she asked, rubbing her arms.

“No, I'm fine under these blankets.” I barely smiled.

“I hope you feel better soon,” she said kindly. “I'll call Angie for you.”

“Thanks, I forgot about that,” I said. Angie would be shocked. She might not even believe her at first.

“No problem.” She seemed tired like everyone else. Would this night ever end?

“Jean?” I called as she was about to walk through the doorway. She stopped and looked at me. “Actually, if you see my mom, can you tell her that Officer Drake is gone now?” I asked.

“Sure,” she said.

“Thanks.” I was too tired to smile again. She disappeared into the hall, and my room was eerily quiet again. I wished I could see Scott or Sarah or . . .

I looked over at Emily's bed. She was breathing steadily. I wished with all my heart that she would wake up soon. I looked at the small table between our beds and saw three Get Well balloons floating above it. Sunflowers and lilies were sitting on the table. I didn't bother to look who they were from or who they were for.

Next to the flowers sat a book that looked very familiar. Its pages were torn here and there, and the cover was permanently bent upward from being read too many times. I knew without reading the title that it was my favorite book of all time,
The Outsiders
by S.E. Hinton.