Melabeth Forgive Me, For I Am Sin! (14 page)

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I awoke, and I knew the sun had not yet set.

I couldn’t tell you how I knew the sun had not set, but I knew. It didn’t take long before I was too bored to lie beneath the sand. Sunlight aside, I dug my way out. I spent the next half hour de-sanding myself by going for a quick swim in the ocean. The day was overcast with dark clouds in the sky. It was much easier on my eyes. I could at least make out what was in front of me.

Peter had yet to arise, but my aspersion of who he might be, had me full of worry. I had no weapons, if I ran now… what good what it do. No matter if he still is enthralled with me or just plain wants to kill me; there just wasn’t anywhere to go on this small island. Even if he woke up still in love with me, for how much longer? And would Nicks escape plan work?

I walked down the beach and tried my hardest to escape my own thoughts and fears. The last few days had been so stressful. And the visions of Alex's face danced behind my eyes. The face he made when he choked me to death while in the act of… I can’t keep thinking about this. His escape aboard the ship, I hadn’t had time to really think it over. To think about my failure, and what that might mean. Alex can now warn all the others.

So much for escaping my thoughts, for the roar of the water did nothing to drown out the noise in my head.

I watched over the ocean as the waves churned with new found anger. I could feel the pressure in my head, a storm was approaching. As I looked down the beach from where I
had come, I saw a man emerge from the tree line onto the beach. It was too far away to be sure, but I do believe it was Peter. When the man spotted me he headed straight towards me, I was about to find out.

When he became closer I could make him out, it was Peter. It took him a dozen more steps before I could make out his face. In that time I was tense, ready to fight, but trying to look relaxed. When I was able to see his face he was calm and gave me a head nod.

I relaxed, as Peter came to a stop next to me he said, “Good afternoon.”

I replied, “Yes it is a nice afternoon, less sun.”

Peter looked up at the sky, “Less sun because there is a storm. That may make flying a bad idea for tonight.”

Panic set in, I could not be on this island with him another twenty four hours. I had already pushed my luck. I tried to hide the panic as I said, “We must leave tonight. I have to check on my friends.”

Peter retorted, “It can’t wait one more day? Is it worth putting us in danger?”

I gasped, “Afraid. I am heading back to the mainland, with or without you.”

Peter didn’t rise to the bait, he was calm. He argued, “It is unwise to put yourself in harm’s way, unless there is no other option.” He read my face, and then added. “I can see you don’t care. I will take you tonight. Let us travel to the airport, maybe we can get a head start on the storm.”

I tried not to be to victorious with my response, “Alright, let’s go.”

It didn’t take us long to get to the airport. It was on the southernmost island, but me and Peter moved swiftly across the ground and through the water. By the time we arrived the sun was well on its way down. It would not have matter because the sky had darkened, the storm was closing in. Sprinkles had started to fall as the wind became more fearsome. Peter said the storm was coming from the southeast. We were heading west, so the faster we took off the better. He figured we would be in Florida before the brunt of the storm hit us.

We both figured we could grab a bite in Miami. We stole a little airplane that only sat four. Peter quickly hotwired the aircraft. The tower was closed. I listened to Peter as he explained in detail about how to fly the plane, but it was way too much information to take in. Still I like the idea of learning, I would like to know how to fly one of these someday.

The plane shook and rocked as we left the ground. It was a rough flight and it was not long before the rain started coming down by the bucket. It was hard to see anything out the window. Peter had stopped explaining on how to fly as he fought with the controls of the little plane. The thought did pass through my head; maybe Peter was right about flying tonight.

Peter asked me, “How are you doing over there?”

I moaned, “Other than wanting to puke my guts out, fine. How can you see where you’re going? I can’t see shit.”

Peter responded, “I told you, you don’t have to see to navigate. I am using the instruments on the plane. See the artificial horizon that lets me know if I am climbing or losing altitude. There is the v.o.r; that gives me…”

That was a stupid question. Peter droned on and on. I might have been more into what he was saying; if it weren’t for the fact I was getting sick from this rough flight. It didn’t help that I had no idea what he was talking about. I couldn’t keep up with all his pilot jargon. In short, how was I to know the time to hit him over the head and make a jump for it? It would not help me if I landed in the ocean.

After about ten minutes Peter got the idea I wasn’t listening. He went back to flying the plane. The next hour or so we shook and rocked and we spoke little. Peter kept looking over at me, but I couldn’t read his face. I couldn’t help but worry every time he did. Like he would wake up from a bad dream, and realize he wanted to kill me.

Peter mumbled through the mic, “I do believe the storm is throwing us off course.”

I chuckled then said, “Figures.”

He quickly defended himself, “It’s not a big deal. And remember who’s idea it was to fly through a storm in the first place.”

I said in a pleasant voice, “Let’s try not to place blame… I am sure it will work out.”

Peter laughed deeply, then said, “You do make me smile. I do believe you will die right after your last joke.”

“Ha, everyone knows that when I die… it will be my last joke.”

Peter confused asked, “What do you mean by that?”

I simply said, “You’ll understand after I die.”

He shook his head, “You are strange.”

The clouds broke enough that I could see lights below. They were moving, there were cars moving down a highway. Peter must have noticed at the same time. He announced, “Well we made land. I believe that we are North of Miami; the storm will be too strong to land there. I will turn to the North and fly us out of the storm before we land.”

We crossed over the highway, and then Peter began to bank the plane to the right. The highway must run North and South. This was the moment I had been waiting for, I let my nails grow. I would have to act fast.

Peter’s eyes were glued upon the instrument panel as he turned the plane. I struck with my left hand, nails out, right towards his temple.

How, how did he react so quickly? Blocking my right hand with his left, I wasted no time. I swung my right hand right for his head.

He tried to block me again, but this time I made contact. It was a clean hit, but Peter screamed, “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?”

Blood rushed down from his forehead and covered his face. I tried to hit him again, but it was my turn to get hit. With no room to move, I took a direct hit and felt the full force of Peter’s strength. His fist hit my left shoulder, breaking it. It then hit me square in the face and the world went black.

My head was spinning. I felt like I was being stung all over my body. After a few seconds of this I realized I was wet… the stinging was water. The spinning was not in my head, I was spinning through the air. He had hit me so hard that he knocked me out to the plane.

I worked on righting myself and started to concentrate on being weightless… all for nothing.

My ears were filled with noise… the sound of breaking bones. My body was being twisted into a pretzel. All my joints were being bent in a way that God had never intended. The noise of snapping branches rang in my ear, that sound was the only reason I understood what was happing.

I do believe I found every branch on this tree. I blacked out for the second time. When I awoke the first thing I thought was, I do believe there was a joke in this. The second thing I thought was why was I underwater?

I could feel the water in my throat and lungs, lucky I didn’t need to breathe, but still very uncomfortable. I felt my body begin the process of repair. Worries enter my brain as my mind cleared. I had no idea if I hit Peter hard enough to lose him. He could have jumped right behind me and if so, I better get a move on.

My left arm was bent backwards; I reached over with my good arm to straighten it. I found a piece of branch was shoved through my elbow. I pulled it out gritting my teeth. Then with reluctance I pulled my arm until it was bending the correct direction. Being underwater helped hide the tears and muffle the screams. It would take more time before I was finished healing.

It was amazing what kind of physical damage a vampire could take. It was also amazing how much it hurt every time I took it.

I had barley lifted my head when it broke free from the water, so much for swimming. I started to gag up all the water in my lungs. After clearing my throat a few times, I could take stock in where I was.

I was sitting in the middle of a swamp. The water was only a few feet deep and trees sprung right out of the water. The tree I sat next two was huge and looking up I could spy the broken branches were I had made my entrance. The sounds of the swamp filled my ears as bugs of all shapes and sizes flew by. The frogs were singing along with crickets. A snake glided by me as it swam through the water with a whip of its body. Not far off I could make out an alligator floating slowly through the water. It was still raining, but under the canopy of the trees it felt like being dripped on. I could see, the world was alive in my eyes, but I knew a human would have a time seeing their hand in front of their face.

I stood up, some of my joints hurt, but I was almost done healing. I listened, but what good would that do? For I would not hear the sound of Peter until it was too late. My dress had somehow survived, it had tears in it and full of dirt, but for once I wasn't standing naked. I really needed to find more durable clothes for my life style.

I was ready; I floated out of the water and kick off against the base of a tree. I moved through the swamp as fast as I could go. Flying over the water, swinging off branches and flipping or spinning my way through the obstacles of the swamp. I loved the feeling of my body being under my control, with my second sight it was like seeing the world in a way I could not describe. My muscles never tired and I pushed myself as hard as I could go.

I hope to be traveling east, because we had passed over a highway. If I could get a car, it would be the easiest way to ditch Peter. He would not be able to smell my trail and cars were not slow. Also there were lots of them, hard to track; I believe it to my best bet.

My sense of direction had not failed me, I came upon the highway. From a sign it was I95 this was a major interstate that led north and south along the eastside of Florida. I should be north of Miami, and decided I would head north. I jumped the interstate and floated easily to the other side. Now all I needed was a ride.

とら

The cars buzzed by while I stood in the shadows.

I didn’t feel that I had time to hitchhike the old fashion way. I needed to stop a car and get out of here before Peter came out of nowhere. If the love spell wasn’t broke, I’m sure I broke it. Next time I see him he’ll be out for blood.

I waited until there was a break in traffic; I didn’t need to involve more than one car. I jumped out into the road waving my arms. The car came screeching to a halt. I wasted no time going to the passenger door, but it was locked. The window came down only a few inches. A middle aged woman was driving alone. I could see the panic in her eyes.

The women stammered out, “What’s wrong… with you? I almost ran you over.”

I was frantic, “I need a ride, let me in.”

The women started to pull forward, at the same time she yelled, “Sorry, I don’t pick up hitchhikers.”

My panic turned to anger. How could she refuse a young girl, standing on the side of the highway in the middle of nowhere? I reached through the window to try to unlock the door. She was still pulling forward and I was now moving alongside the car. The bitch started to roll up the window with my arm in it.

I grabbed the window with my free hands. Then used both my arms to pry down the window, it groaned in disapproval; the window was ready to break. I was able to quickly reach in and unlock the door. In one quick move I opened the door and swung inside the car. I could see headlights now approaching us, sitting at a dead stop in the middle of the highway was going to get us in an accident.

I yelled at the lady, “Punch the gas.”

“GET OUT OF MY CAR.”

I reached my foot over and shoved down the accelerator. The women screamed something at me as the car lurched forward spinning the front tires. The lady then started to push the break, but I reached down and dug my claws into her knee cap. She screamed in pain, but stopped pressing the brake pedal.

I growled, “If you don’t want to get hurt… DRIVE.”

The women tested the last of my patience when she pulled a 38 revolver out. She pointed the gun at my head. Voice was full of strain, “You better let me stop this car, or I will…”

She never finished her sentence. I disarmed her so fast she couldn’t react. Then I punched her; not hard, not hard for me. Her head still slammed into the driver side window as her body went limp. I pushed her back and was now steering the car with my left hand. Anyone behind us would have thought us drunk, but now I controlled the car and kept it at an even speed, and in one lane.

The women had a purse; it was down on the passenger floor board next to my feet. I picked it up and dumped it on my lap. She had sixty dollars cash and a few credit cards. The rest of her purse was full of makeup. Looking over at the lady her face was covered, she put on makeup like a clown. Her driver license said her name was Beverly Sutton, but who cared? I tossed all her crap on to the back seat, but kept the purse. I put the money and my newly acquired gun into it.

*                  *                   *

I lost track of time as I drove, when Beverly finally started to come too. I announced to her, “Here’s the deal
Beverly. You behave, you live… screw with me one more time and I’ll make you wish you were dead.”

She moaned a few times while holding her head. She was a heavy set woman, but it hadn’t kept me from tossing her ass into the back seat. It took her a minute or two to sit up. She squeezed her temples moaning.

I barked, “Shut up all ready. Moaning does not, will not, help with pain. Damn you’re a pain in the ass.”

She didn’t shut up, she just moaned quieter. I didn’t reach back and slap her, a true miracle. I was trying to keep in mind that I had super hearing and she probably didn’t think I could hear her moaning. My hearing was good; I could keep time with her heart beat.

Beverly finally spoke about a half hour after awaking. She sounded like a nag, “Your dress is dirty. I just had this car shampooed. Do you know this is kidnapping?”

I hissed, “Don’t worry about it, or I'll pick up a shovel and some lime. And then end this trip for you real fast.”

She did show a little common sense when she went silent again, but it didn’t last. She nagged again, “You’re speeding and traveling in the left lane, when there is no one to pass.”

With as much sarcasm I could muster, “Thanks, can’t have a speeding ticket in the middle of a kidnapping. Can I?”

“Well you’re almost out of gas.” She said with the same tone, as if she didn’t even understand my sarcasm.

A sign was up ahead, it showed gas station on the next exit. I informed Beverly, “Exit in two miles, will stop for gas… and a bite to eat.”

I was hungry.

There were two gas stations on this exit. One was one of those big trucker stations, it was huge. The large building was
surrounded by pumps and big rigs. On the other side of the highway was a normal little gas station. That would be all I needed, so I crossed the highway to the station. I pulled the Chevy Lumina up to one of the pumps. I got out of the car glad to stretch my legs.

I was surveying the area, I could hear other cars coming and going. This was a smaller station but it was still busy. Then I heard the backdoor of the Lumina open and my meal jump out and start to run. It took me by complete surprise, a woman of such size and age could move that fast.

I moved around the pump to intercept Beverly, but then came to realize what she was running too. There sat a patrol car, just two pumps down and I didn’t even notice.

I didn’t have time to kill everyone in the gas station, so I quickly flashed into the shadows outside of the stations lights.

I figured it would not be wise to hang around here, and the station across the highway I could hitch a ride with a truck driver. With that thought and a hungry belly, I went weightless and jumped into the night sky. I easily crossed over the highway landing in a clearing just outside the parking lot of the trucker’s gas Station.

I noticed a sign that said showers, and I could see they sold clothes. Well this worked out better after all. Still it would have been nice to have eaten Beverly.

It didn’t take me long to purchase a new outfit and a shower. I purchased some blue jeans and a gray top with a root beer logo on it. I also picked up some flip flops; I didn’t need people noticing I had no shoes.  After my shower, I noticed that the ugly purse didn’t match, so I put the cash into my pocket. The gun left a big bulge if I tried shoving it in my pants. I figured I really didn’t need it anyways, so I cleaned off the gun and tossed it into the trash. 

I had a little over twenty dollars left as I walked through the store. I noticed sunglasses on a rack for five dollars. I was trying them on while looking in the little mirror. There was a lot of movement behind me, the store was busy. I could see the shapes of people with my second sight but I hadn’t turned around for a little bit.

A man cleared his throat from behind me. With a deep voice he spoke with authority, “Ma’am, I need to speak with you.”

I turned around and was standing face to face with a police officer. He was huge, tall and full of muscles. Standing behind him was another officer, of normal size. Standing behind the other officer stood Beverly, sneering at me.

I spoke as sweet as I could, “Yes officer, how can I help you?”

He spoke stern as he looked down upon me, “Ma’am, do you have any weapons that I should know about?”

I laughed, “None you should know about… I don’t have any weapons.”

He tried to stare through me. He barked, “This is not a joke. I need to know… do you have any weapons?”

I answered like I didn’t care, mostly because I didn’t, “No.”

He was leaning over me, trying to intimidate me with his size. He then asked, “Your name?”

I snapped back, “Your name?”

He pointed to his name tag. He spoke slowly as if I were dumb, “Officer Clark. What is your name?”

“My name…”

Another officer had walked up, “Yes, your name, girl.”

I sneered at this officer. The big officer was just a bully, but this one was mean, I could see it in his eyes. Like poking a bear, I looked him the face, “Do we know each other?”

“No.” he snapped with no hesitation.

I went on, “Oh, it’s just that you called me by name, that’s all. My name is Girl.”

I noticed the new officer’s name was Mac Holman. His face turned red with anger, “You think this is a game, do you? Do you have any I.D?”

I smiled big, “Nope.”

The big officer spoke, “You have been accused of kidnapping. Can you account for your whereabouts?”

I wasn’t sure what to do, but I knew where this was going. I answered with a straight face, “No I can’t.”

Mac about yelled in my face, “What is your name?”

I was getting angry, “Bit me.”

Mac started to yell again but Clark interrupted him. He then spoke as if he were doing me a favor. “Look, if you don’t want to get arrested tonight, I would start to cooperate. Do you understand?”

I narrowed my eyes, “I think you need to get a female officer here.”

They both looked confused as Clark asked, “Why?”

I stared him down, “Because neither of you are searching me during the arrest. I don’t have any more to add.”

Mac about spit in my face, “Have it your way. We will continue this conversion down town.”

Mac started barking in his radio as he walked away. He went over and started to lead Beverly out. Clark started the questioning over again. For reasons I couldn’t explain, I was going to let them arrest me.

*                    *                    *

I sat handcuffed to a chair. There were police coming and going all around me. I was sitting in front of an empty desk. My arrested went quick, I had to listen to Mac go on and on while I rode in the backseat of the squad car. They asked me questions over and over again; the more they asked the more I just made up shit. I had changed my name at least fifteen times, so at last they stopped asking it. They finger printed me then handcuffed me to this chair. The name tag on the desk said, detective Jamar Washington.

A slightly overweight black man sat down in the chair on the other side of the desk. He was middle aged and bald, with no facial hair. He had a no nonsense look. The detective spoke with a deep voice, “Hi, I’m detective Jamar Washington. I’ve been told you will not give your name.”

He really didn’t ask a question, so I didn’t answer him. A long pause went by while he waited for me to respond. During that time we both stared at each other unblinking. He finally looked down as he picked up a yellow folder. He opened the file. “You are being accused of a very serious crime. I see here that you had no I.D. on you and less than twenty dollars cash. No credit cards or any other personal items. So where do we begin? How about, why were you at the gas station, and how did you get there?”

It was now three in the morning, I needed to get out of here. I couldn’t stay here, I wondered if I had made a mistake letting the officers arrest me. Maybe I should have fought my way through, but something came over me. I don’t know what it was, but I let them arrested me without a fight. Well if I broke free by force now it would be worst then earlier. I will follow my path and see where it takes me. I kind of felt like they don’t
have much to arrest me on; all they have is that crazy ladies story, maybe I could use that to my advantage.

I decided to answer the detective questions, but carefully. “I was at the gas station to buy some beef jerky with my purchase of playgirl magazine."

A smile almost broke loose on the detective’s face, but he quickly cleared his throat. With a serious tone, “Where do you live?”

“Where ever I lay my head.”

The detective said, “This is what we know so far. We know that you were hitchhiking along I95. That you stop Mrs. Sutton then forced your way into her car. Mrs. Sutton says at that point you forced the car into motion recklessly. At fear for her life she pulled a gun out, at this point you disarmed her. You proceed to hit her until Mrs. Sutton passed out. She claims when she came to, she found herself tied up in the backseat. When you stopped for gas, she escaped her bonds and ran for help. It is at that point that you fled the scene disposing of Mrs. Sutton gun. You were later spotted at the Truck station.”

I couldn’t believe she told them I had tied her up, what a bitch. I answered calmly, “That’s a great story, wonderful really. I have no idea what you’re talking about, can I go now?”

Jamar leaned back as he folded his hands over his lap. He stared at me, like he was trying to see what made me tick. He spoke with the same deep voice, “Melanie, I would like to help you. I’m on your side; I know there is more to the story. Like what drove you out to the highway? What was chasing you? Maybe you were trying to get away from someone.”

I chuckled, “You really are a great story teller. You’re on my side? Someone is chasing me? Who might that be?”

He shook his head, “I can’t help you, not if you’re not willing to help yourself.”

I shook my head, "I guess were done here."