Authors: Cameo Renae
Michael was right, as usual. He would have made a great psychiatrist. Although I didn’t want to agree with him, I understood what he was saying. “I hate it that you’re so optimistic,” I sighed. “I don’t know how I’m going to get through this life without you.”
“You have more strength than you give yourself credit for,” he said giving me a squeeze. He chuckled, trying to change the subject. “I can’t believe you broke that guy’s nose. That was awesome!”
“I couldn’t have done it without your help,” I sighed.
“You did that…
all
by yourself,” he said pinching my nose.
“That thing
you
did… blowing out the lanterns, making the TV turn on… Oh, and throwing the bottles at him… now that was awesome! That was you, right?”
“Yes,” he hesitated. His brow furrowed and his eyes narrowed. “When he hit you...that really pissed me off. No one touches my girl. I wanted to kill him, Liz. I’d never felt more hate for a human being in all my life. All that rage inside of me built-up, and somehow gave me extra power to move things. That’s how I moved those bottles,” he said looking into my eyes. “I’m glad I hit him in the face. Payback. But I wanted to do much worse.”
I didn’t know how to respond. I simply wrapped my arms around him and held him close to let him know that I was thankful.
I’d never known Michael to get so upset. He wasn’t the type to get angry so quickly. I guess he’d never had a reason to. It was my turn to change the subject again.
“I actually got so caught up watching you’re poltergeist activities that I almost forgot to run!”
His face lightened a bit and a half-smile curved on his lips. “I needed to get his attention off you and give you enough time to escape. I’m glad you did what you needed to.”
“You’re my HERO, Michael Young!” I exclaimed, shoving him back into the sand kissing him full on the lips. “You saved me. I know he would have killed me in that cabin after doing, god knows what, to me first. But when I heard your voice… I felt a strength that drove me to fight.”
“I don’t think you understand, Liz. You had it in you all the time.”
“But knowing you were there, made me that much stronger, not only in the cabin, but even when I was lost in the woods. I was ready to give up, and didn’t care if I died. But you saved me, and I’m naming you my guardian angel. I’m never firing you and never letting you go.”
“Oh really,” he said turning me to my back, gazing into my eyes. “I wasn’t about to let anything happen to you, even if I had to break the rules.”
“My knight in shining armor,” I said, wrapping my arms around his neck, pulling him to me.
“You’re the love of my life, Elizabeth Hayes,” he breathed. His lips pressed against mine. Electricity surged though us. It felt so real, like he was alive. He pulled back and stared into my eyes and smiled.
“What?”
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered with a smile on his face. My face flushed with heat. How was I so lucky to have found someone as rare as him?
A horrible thought entered my mind.
“Michael?”
“Yes?”
“Did they catch him?”
He hesitated and rolled to his side.
“No. But Tyler told his dad everything. They have the Police and State Troopers out looking for him.”
“Tyler.” I gritted teeth. “I hate him. I hate him for putting you in that situation, and I hate him for taking you away from me,” I huffed. Heat filled my veins.
“Easy - tiger,” he teased. “Tyler was just a victim. He was involved with the wrong people, and had no idea what that man was going to do. But, I’ll tell you this… if my death helps to turn Tyler’s life around… than it was worth it.”
He didn’t look at me when he said those words. He stared out over the horizon, knowing I’d disagree. The whole “lay your life down for your friend” was a load of crap to me, especially if the one who ‘laid his life down’ was the love of my life. Tyler was the dumb-ass who chose drugs over his friends. Of course, I had something to say about that!
“Michael, Tyler chose his own path and he chose wrong! Every decision he made was a conscious one. Your life should’ve never been taken in exchange for his!” I voiced trembling, shaking my head. Tears of anger streamed down my face.
“If it makes a difference in Tyler, then… to me… it was worth it,” he said, assessing my reaction. “Tyler was my best friend. He’s a good person that headed in the wrong direction.”
“Why do you give stupid people the benefit of the doubt? Some people don’t deserve that much,” I sighed.
“If you don’t, you just get angry and frustrated.” He looked at me. Case and point. “Everyone deserves a second chance, Liz.”
I finally gave in with a sigh. He wasn’t going to change the way he felt. Michael was the cup-is-half-full optimist. That’s the way he was, and that’s one of the reasons why I loved him. It’s what drew people to him, and made him different.
“I’m sorry,” I said, embarrassed at my outburst.
“Well, I knew you weren’t all perfect. You had to have at least one flaw,” he laughed.
“Yeah right,” I chuckled. “I’m still looking for yours.”
“Just don’t turn to the dark side, Liz… Don’t do it!” he said jokingly.
“How did Tyler and Emily know where I was anyway? They just suddenly appeared, at the right place, at the right time? What’s up with that?”
“Emily got your message and ran to your cottage. When she got there, she saw your cell phone lying in the middle of your driveway. She knew something was wrong. She was about to call the police, when Tyler passed by. He saw her panicking and asked her what had happened.”
“What the heck was he doing passing by my place?” I asked in a smug voice.
“He wanted to make sure you were safe,” he said looking at me through narrowed eyes. “He felt horrible that he’d given the man your address, so he stayed close to make sure you were safe.”
“He was a little late,” I stated, rolling my eyes. Michael grinned, shaking his head. I felt a teeny-weeny bit bad after saying that, but not much.
Michael continued. “Emily told him she thought you’d been kidnapped, and told him about the message you left, and what you’d told her at lunch. Tyler made her get in his car and explained his side of the story as they headed toward the cabin.
“I knew I had to get you to the road before they passed you. It was risky, but it worked.”
All I could do was hug him. He was my knight in shining armor. But, I had one more question I had been dying to ask Michael. The one question that was burning inside that would finally put all of the pieces of my puzzled mind together. I wasn’t sure how to, or even if I should ask, but I needed to.
“Michael,” I asked in a sweet whisper, “Can I ask you a question.”
“Anything,” he answered tilting his head to the side.
I knew that no matter how I asked this question there wasn’t a right way to do it. I hoped it wouldn’t ruin the wonderful moment we were sharing, but I decided to risk it and ask him anyway.
“I want to know how you died. I know that you were murdered but I want to know how.”
He hesitated for a moment, his eyes deep and pondering. I knew he wasn’t expecting me to ask
that
question by the look on his face.
“Are you alright?” I asked, noticing that my question was bothering him. I suddenly felt horrible. “I’m sorry. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”
“It’s not that,” he said looking down at our interlocked fingers. “I’m just deciding whether I should tell you or… show you.”
“You mean show me like you did in my other dreams?”
“Yes, but I don’t want you to see what really happened. The only reason why I’d show you is so you’d know the truth. But…” he paused.
“But what?” I asked softly.
“I don’t want you to watch me die,” he said sadly. There was a large crease in the middle of his brow. This was definitely causing him a lot of stress.
“I
want
you to show me, Michael,” I said turning to him, grabbing his other hand. “I
want
to know the truth. I
need
to know the truth. I want to help you as much as you want to help me. Please.” I knew this was going to be difficult, not only for me, but also for him.
Deep inside I wrestled with the part of me that wanted to know the truth, and the part that wasn’t sure if I could handle the truth. Did I really want to watch the love of my life dying before my eyes, knowing that I couldn’t do anything to help him? That’s the part that I was struggling with, and I knew he was struggling with too. Maybe it would be easier if he just told me, but then… I knew it wouldn’t be the same and I wanted to know the details. Maybe somewhere within those details, I could find some evidence to bring his murderer down.
“I want you to show me Michael,” I said, trying to sound confident. But my voice was shaky and unsure. I hoped he didn’t notice.
After a few moments of silence, he sighed. “Okay. But don’t ever say that I ruined your
dream vacation
,” he said with a half-smile.
“Good one,” I said giggling. “Michael, you couldn’t ever ruin anything. I know that if I don’t find out what happened, the wondering would haunt me forever.” I knew that was the truth. I was always one that needed to know the truth, even if it hurt.
“So, are you totally sure about this?” he asked softly.
“As sure as I’ll ever be,” I said with a sigh. “So what do I have to do? Do I like have to lay back and close my eyes, because – technically – I’m still dreaming, right?”
“Yes…” he laughed, shaking his head, “technically, you are. But just remember that you’ll only be a witness to the events. Nothing you see can harm you in any way. So don’t be afraid.”
“Will you be with me?”
“Yes. I’ll be with you the whole time, but you won’t see or feel me. You’ll just be watching what happened. I’ll need to concentrate to show you. You’re sure you’re ready for this?”
“I’m ready.” I breathed. I could feel my heart beating faster and faster, and started to doubt, feeling a little unsure.
I’m just a witness and Michael will be with me
, I repeated over and over in my mind. “So, what do I have to do?” I asked again.
He softly kissed my lips, then gently took my head in his hands and steadied it to look out to the horizon.
“Just watch,” he whispered.
Immediately the scene changed from the beautiful sunset we were watching - to black. I looked around me but saw nothing but the looming darkness. I could no longer feel Michael’s touch and started to panic. Then I remembered what he told me. I took a deep breath and concentrated.
Then, I saw a glimmer, a small speck of light in the distance. It grew brighter and brighter, and out of the darkness a whole new scene emerged.
I was now a passenger in the front seat of Michael’s car. He was sitting next to me, driving. As soon as I saw him I felt at ease. I turned to look behind me.
He
was here too. My stomach churned in disgust at the mere sight of him. He was sitting a few feet away. Too close. The horrifying, haunting face of the man who murdered Michael… who’d just tried to murder me, was sitting behind Michael with a gun pointed at his back.
Tyler sat in the seat directly across from him. His brow furrowed, intensely worried, his eyes wide with fear. His hands furiously rubbed back and forth across his jeans. I could hear his heavy breaths.
We were speeding up a road. I knew this road. It was the road to Hatcher’s Pass. I turned back to watch the man pull a wad of money out from a small black pouch he had grabbed from the floor.
He placed his gun on his lap and then began counting the bills. I looked at Michael, who looked completely stressed. He was grasping the steering wheel so tight that his knuckles were white. I reached out to touch him, to comfort him, but my hand went right through his and the steering wheel. I was beginning to doubt myself and if I could handle what was going on.
I turned back and watched the man slowly finish his count. He fumbled with his numbers, having to start over again, which obviously made him more furious. He finally counted all the way through without stopping. His eyes narrowed and lips pursed. He let out an evil growl and started to count the wad again… slowly. I saw Michael glimpse into the rearview mirror, gripping the steering wheel tighter, twisting his hands around it.
Tyler shifted uneasily in his seat, his eyes reflecting terror. They were both helpless, and I knew the feeling all too well.
He counted the money again, and then his face turned a dark shade of red. Not saying a word, he shoved the money into the bag and reached for a small backpack on the floor. I watched him zip it open, then pull out a small clear plastic box which encased a syringe and three vials of clear liquid. He carefully filled a syringe with a vial of liquid, then, held it up, tapped it, and pressed releasing the air. He then grabbed a second vial, filling the syringe to the top with fluid. He put the cap back on the needle and placed it between his legs.
My mind was spinning, questioning what was to come next. Why was he filling the needle, and what was it with? It had to have been some sort of drug.
I glanced over to Tyler, whose eyes were wide with fright, watching the man from the corner of his eye.
“Pull over here,” the man spoke harshly.
Michael pulled into a spot which we’d been many times before. Hatcher’s Pass - mile marker 16. It was a place to get dropped off to sled down the mountain. It was a hot spot where the locals would come to and bring their children. On a normal day, this place was filled with sledders and snowboarders having fun, but right now, it was one of gloom and horror.
My gut wrenched inside.
I waited as he slowly pulled off the road and parked the car. I could feel myself breathing heavily, almost to the point of hyperventilating.
It was dark. The white snow up on the pass glistened from the beams of the car lights. I glanced at the clock on Michael’s dashboard. 5:52 P.M.
Then… all hell broke loose.
The man punched the back of Michael’s seat thrusting him forward. “What the hell were ya thinkin’, boy?”
Michael turned and glared at him. He would have never taken that from anyone, but this man had a gun.
“You think I’m playin’ with ya? Do ya think this is all a joke?” he said taunting Michael with his gun, tapping it to the side of his head.
“Buck, wait!” Tyler yelled.
Buck? Was that his name? I finally had a name to the hate that was boiling inside of me.
“Shut up!” the man yelled. He swung his gun at Tyler hitting him hard on the side of his head. Tyler moaned and slouched over in his seat. He was knocked unconscious.
He then turned the gun, pointing it at Michael. Michael turned; his back pressed up against his door and the steering wheel.
“Wait- just wait! You don’t want to do this man,” he urged. “Be smart.”
“The hell I don’t! You must really think I’m stupid boy. Don’t cha? Think you could pull one over on me?” The man grabbed the bag with the money in it and flung it at Michael, hitting him in the chest. “You shorted me five-hundred dollars! Five-hundred frickin’ dollars. That’s a very small price for your life,” he said very slowly in a cold, deadly voice.
I found myself pleading for his life. “No… please don’t!” I cried, over and over, tears poured down my cheeks. I knew my words were hopeless, falling into void, but I couldn’t help myself.
I looked at Michael. He kept silent but his eyes were speaking a million words. I didn’t notice fear, but embedded deep inside, was sadness.
Buck leaned over Tyler and yanked at the door handle. The door flew open as he shoved Tyler’s limp body out into the snow. Tyler moaned; his legs still in the car. Buck pushed them out, slamming the door shut.
“Drive!” he yelled at Michael in a demanding voice, holding the gun to his head.
“What about --” Michael started to say. I knew he didn’t want to leave Tyler.
“Drive!” Buck hollered. “I’ll shoot ya, if ya hesitate again!”
Michael put the car in reverse, careful not to run over Tyler.
“Where are we going?” Michael asked calmly.
“Drive. Don’t ask questions. I’ll tell ya when I’m ready,” he said coldly. I could tell Buck didn’t have a plan and he was obviously high. He kept grunting and groaning, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his free hand.
He scooted back behind Michael’s seat, releasing the gun from his head. Michael, calm and collected, slowly descended from Hatcher’s Pass. I studied his face. His eyes showed no emotion as he glared into the looming darkness ahead.
I turned back to see Buck fumbling to grab something rolling in the back seat. He found it. The syringe. I watched helplessly as he slide the cover off of the needle.
“Oh God! Michael, look out!” I wailed. “Michael!”
I was terrified, swinging at Buck, attempting to knock the needle from his grasp. Every attempt failed, but I kept swinging, hoping, praying, that just one would connect.
“I hate you! I hate you, you murdering bastard!” I screamed at him, over and over. Tears of hate fell constant from my eyes. “I hate you!” I wailed from my core.
Michael didn’t know what was coming. He stayed focused on the road ahead.
“Stop!” Buck yelled.
Michael stopped in the middle of the road but before he could move, Buck flew forward wrapping his arm around Michael’s neck. Michael tried to break his grasp, but it was too late. Buck shoved the needle deep into the back of Michael’s neck forcing the white liquid into him. Michael moaned and went limp, so Buck released his hold and grabbed his gun. He pointed it at Michael, but Michael was no longer a threat.
Michael grabbed the back of his neck. I watched helplessly as his eyes rolled back. Whatever he shot into him was killing him.
I looked down at his dashboard and noticed the clock. It was 6:11 P.M., the exact same time I felt that shooting pain in the back of my neck the other night. Oh God. I was actually feeling Michael dying.
Buck leaned over the front seat and pulled Michael’s wallet from his pocket, then grabbed the bag of money and bolted from the car.
“Michael!” I sobbed helplessly.
Michael took in a few deep breaths and tried to focus. He gripped the steering wheel and hit the gas.
“Liz,” he whispered. His breathing became erratic and a single tear graze his cheek. This was the first time I’d ever seen Michael cry. “I’m so sorry Liz,” he breathed.
Was he talking to me? He can’t be. I’m just witnessing this. Then it dawned on me. He was actually thinking about me in his last moments. My heart was about to burst into a zillion pieces, never to be put together again.
“I love you, Michael,” I called out, knowing he couldn’t hear me. “I love you so much.” I couldn’t bear to watch anymore. His breaths had become shallow; his brown eyes were dilated and glassy.
He let out a loud moan and grasped his heart. I watched him take his last few breaths. Helpless. Heart-broken. I moved as close as I could to him and whispered in his ear, “forever in my heart.”
His head went limp, resting on the steering wheel. His eyes still open, staring blankly at me. He was gone.
The car swerved off the road into the half frozen Little Susitna River.
“Michael! Michael, get up!” I screamed desperately trying to wake him, although I knew he was already dead.
Frigid waters from the river poured into the car from the windows.
A voice called my name, and everything went black.