Discern (15 page)

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Authors: Samantha Shakespeare

BOOK: Discern
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“We should leave,” he said stiffly. His eyes never met mine as he spoke.

I set down my fork and scooted the plate aside. Andrew dropped a twenty on the table. He clutched my arm, practically dragging me behind.

A loud, voice shouted out “Where you both off to tonight?”

Andrew continued to usher me toward the door. I heard the sound of chairs scooting across the floor and realized the three men now blocked us from the door.

“You got such a pretty girl there—you wouldn’t mind sharing, would you?” The largest of the three men suggested as he ran his bright orange suspenders through his hands. The smallest of the three started to reach in my direction.

Andrew snatched him by the wrist. “I don’t want any trouble. You boys just return to your seats, and I’ll pretend none of this happened.” His voice never cracked as he threatened them.

Laughter filled the room. “You gonna pretend none of this happened regardless, but first we wanna have a little fun with her,” the large man demanded with a dark menacing look.

I instantly felt sick to my stomach. The waitress stared in our direction. “You boys let them go, and stop causing trouble.” Her warning was casual, as if this was a regular occurrence.

“Shut up, Betty. This ain’t none of your concern.” The large one’s eyes flickered in her direction.

Andrew angled himself between the men and my body. Instinctively, I lightly touched his arm, as I feared the outcome of this altercation. Andrew’s muscles tightened. I was definitely aware that he had spent many hours in the gym, but I feared it was not enough to ward off these three brawny men.

As I gripped tighter on Andrew’s arm, which now seemed to have an eerie orange glow, I could feel an immense heat radiating from his body, scorching my hand. I immediately withdrew it, feeling the slight sensation of my flesh burning—similar to placing my hand onto a hot oven rack. I shook my hand slightly as the pain throbbed. “Ouch,” I muttered, trying not to whine as there were bigger problems than just my burnt hand. A large, pink circle formed in the palm of my hand.

Andrew glanced down at my wound. His eyes shot back up at my face with a look of distress. But his focus was quickly interrupted with the slow advance of the three men in our direction.

My attention returned to the three men that still appeared interested in continuing what they had started. I prepared for an ugly battle where, inevitably, I would be victimized. It was difficult to imagine these three men having their way with me, but even more difficult to stomach what they might do to Andrew in the meantime.

My body froze as I watched smoke rise from the man’s arm in which Andrew was still gripping.

The man began screaming as he desperately tried to pull his arm from Andrew’s tight grip. “Please let go of it!” the smaller man screamed as he quickly fell to his knees.

But Andrew did not let go; he continued to glare down at the man. A devilish smile spread across Andrew’s face. It was impossible to fathom what I was witnessing. My hand was still throbbing from the pain, and now an even darker circle had formed.

“I’ll let go as soon as your friends move out of the way,” Andrew snarled.

The larger man with orange overalls stepped forward as he balled up his fists.

“Stay back,” Andrew warned.

But the man continued to come closer, even after observing his friend’s arm searing. The smell of burning flesh stung my nostrils as I pulled my arm up to cover my nose. The other men began choking as they, too, were overcome by the smell.

“Let go of our friend, you freak!” the man with the camouflage baseball cap yelled out.

Andrew disregarded his plea. “Move out of our way,” he growled.

But the men ignored his demand and both moved forward in a striking motion. My breathing became uneven as I fearfully watched this whole scenario play out right before my eyes like something out of a horror movie.

Andrew’s eyes returned to the pleading man on the floor and twisted his arm backward creating a large snapping sound as the bone poked through his skin and splintered into tiny pieces. The man screeched in pain as he fell back onto the floor gripping his shattered arm.

The largest of the three men reached back with his fists balled and struck toward Andrew’s face. A loud growl rumbled from Andrew’s chest as he grabbed the man’s fist and pushed him straight back. The man’s body lifted off the ground and was airborne crashing atop several smaller gray laminate tables. Blood splattered all over the floor and every object within in ten feet. I watched in horror. The tables beneath him folded in, as his body smashed through them creating a shower of laminate and particleboard pieces.

The man with the camouflaged cap stepped forward. Instinct should have told him to run long ago, but he foolishly joined in the fight. Andrew clutched his throat and viciously slammed his body onto the floor displacing the white tile beneath him, which broke into large chunks.

The smaller man was still holding his shattered arm, but he unwisely leaped toward Andrew. Andrew grabbed him and he swung him into midair, splattering his body against the glass window. The window eventually bowed out and spewed small pieces of glass all over the floor. I fell to the ground, covering my head to avoid any contact with the flying glass.

There was a brief moment of silence. I cautiously lifted my head and horrifyingly scanned the room. The waitress stood behind the counter with a frightened look upon her face, probably similar to mine.

All three men lay motionless. No sound was uttered from their battered bodies. Blood was splattered all over—not only their bodies, but the walls, floors and tables of the diner. It looked as if someone had taken an automatic weapon and fired randomly inside the diner.

Andrew’s movement caught the corner of my eye, forcing me to turn away from the carnage. The sound of crunching glass quickly caught my attention, as my eyes returned to the blood-spattered bodies.

The largest of three men with blood soaked suspenders unsteadily stood up, attempting to run at full speed. Andrew reached his arm out and grabbed him by the throat, slamming his badly beaten body against the adjacent wall. Andrew was facing the man, but I could hear a loud growl roaring from his direction. The man’s expression coincided with the sound, as he looked rightfully frightened. Andrew squeezed the man’s throat until his body went limp.

A short, black haired man, I assumed to be the cook by his hairnet and greasy apron, stood beside the waitress, as they, too, watched the carnage unfold. All of our faces displayed the horror we had just observed. Not one single person in this diner would have ever bet against those three men, including myself.

Andrew rushed to my side. He touched my arm as he attempted to scoop my body from the floor. But his hot skin began singeing my arm hairs. I yanked my arm back and painfully looked in to his bright, red crystal eyes that stared back at me.

“Get up,” he commanded stiffly.

My body shook violently as I quickly stood up, obeying his commands. His blood-red eyes watched my every move carefully.

“Please don’t hurt me,” I croaked with tears welling in the corners of my eyes—lips quivering.

He closed his eyes and sighed heavily. The orange glow of his skin began to fade. His normal skin tone reappeared as his eyes opened, revealing two dark, faintly sparkling black diamonds. The overwhelming sensation to start hyperventilating came over me, as I watched his dark eyes painfully gaze down.

“I’d never hurt you,” he said breathlessly. “Never.”

He lightly placed his hand over my wrist. I cringed expecting to get scorched, but I felt no burning sensation this time as he scooped me up into his arms. His skin was warm, but no longer hot. Our bodies seemed to float out of the diner. We reached his car in an amazingly short amount of time, but I was more concerned with his eyes than our speed.

He feverishly opened the passenger side door of his car and gently placed my body down on the cold leather seat. I attempted to brace myself, but put too much pressure on my injured hand. “Ouch,” I whimpered.

His black eyes flickered down at my wound and then painfully looked up at me. “Sorry,” he said softly.

“I’m fine,” I assured, still frightened.

His eyes desperately searched mine to see if I was truly fine, but he could tell instantly that I was still in pain. “Oh, Haley,” he breathed heavily, as he closed his eyes.

Loud screams bellowed from inside the diner. We both hastily looked at one another.

“Oh, no!” I gasped.

He quickly stood up. “Wait here, and don’t get out,” he demanded sternly.

I nodded. He swiftly re-entered the diner. My gaze never left the diner doors as I fearfully watched. A bright, white light radiated from the windows of the diner almost blinding me momentarily. I squinted as I tried to block out the light, but I could still feel the heat from it warming my face.

A loud, shrieking sound blared from inside the diner, similar to a train breaking hastily to avoid hitting an object. I covered my ears, but the sound was deafening. Both the light and sound were very similar to what I had witnessed at Chautauqua park right before Andrew had appeared.

The heat seemed to fade, so I pried one eye open trying to discern whether the light was truly gone. To my astonishment the diner was now completely dark. Even the lights on the sign atop the building were off.

The glass doors swung open, and Andrew appeared. The lights of the diner flickered back on, and the neon sign on the roof began humming loudly as it warmed up. Andrew’s skin appeared to have the same orange glow as it did moments ago.

He slid into the driver’s seat of the car avoiding any eye contact. The tires squealed as he peeled out of the parking lot. The gravel rocks bounced off the side of the car creating tiny little dinging sounds against the metal.

“Put your seat belt on,” he commanded, while buckling his own.

My hand quickly reached for the belt as I obeyed. I tried to calm my breathing. I closed my eyes as the last fifteen minutes of my life played over in my mind. Understanding what had just taken place was impossible—there were too many questions—and I wasn’t sure I wanted any of them answered.

“How’s your hand?” His voice was calm and collected as he eyed my injury.

My hand was still throbbing with intense pain, but fear had overridden the pain. “It’s fine,” I lied softly. I inspected the large, circular red wound on my palm.

“It doesn’t appear to be fine,” he scoffed.

He steered the car off the road as we came to a screeching halt. My eyes shifted to his face to gain a sense of what was about to take place. He was intensely staring down at my wound.

He cautiously reached for my hand. The glow from his skin no longer existed, so I did not resist his touch. His skin was warm, but I felt no pain, just intense sparks tingling throughout my body.

“Close your eyes,” he instructed.

I hesitated, but again I obeyed—slowly closing my eyes. He gently ran his fingers along my hand causing momentary pain. A cold, icy sensation spread across my hand and into my fingers. I naturally attempted to pull away, but his grip was impossibly tight. I shivered as he gently set my hand back on top of my thigh.

“You can open your eyes now.” His voice was soft.

The cool sensation faded as his hands withdrew. I studied my hand, astonished that the red, painful circle had vanished.

He gauged my reaction as he cautiously shifted the car in drive. I painfully swallowed as I collected my thoughts. The tires spun out as he gunned the gas. My head jolted back slightly as all four tires roughly climbed the pavement back onto the road.

There was silence for a few miles, but I could feel him watching me. My fingers slowly moved over my arm as I collected an inch of skin and pinched as hard as I humanly could. “Ouch,” I muttered.

“You’re not dreaming,” he said disconcerted.

This whole ordeal had been real. I contemplated whether I should speak or not. But my curiosity outweighed my fear—at least for the moment. “Just checking.”

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said softly, his voice still distressed.

My fingers nervously shook as I tried to remain calm, but I could feel a tear beginning to well. I raised my right hand and inconspicuously wiped the lone tear from my eye. The last thing I needed was to appear weak at this moment, fearing it would anger him.

“Oh, god,” he sighed heavily. “What have I done?”

I cautiously looked in his direction debating whether to make eye contact or not, but as soon as my head turned, our eyes met. His eyes were still dark which seemed to match his anguished expression. We both stared in silence. My breathing became uneven.
 

“What just happened?” The words flowed from my mouth before I could stop them.

“How’s your hand?” he asked, completely ignoring my question.

“It’s better now.”

I looked out the window. My question was obviously not going to be answered, so I decided against asking any more. I could still feel his eyes on me, which made the ride incredibly uncomfortable.

The slight movement of his hand caught my attention out of the corner of my eye. I instinctively looked. He nervously placed his hand on my forehead. My eyes closed as my body shook from fear and, my bottom lip began to quiver. My head began to spin in circles.

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