Island Rush (63 page)

Dad, getting the fifth knife, strode to her.  He grabbed her by the hair and hauled her to her knees.  Stabbing her in the heart, letting the knife stick there too, I watched as her eyes grew wide and cries grew harder.  With one hand holding her up by her hair, he reached over to the table, grabbing another knife and putting it through the top of her head.  He then grabbed the seventh knife and shoved it into her mouth.

The knife through her mouth cut through the back of her throat.  I saw it cut her mouth wider, making her lips stretch until they were also bleeding.  When he finally stopped, he came to me, standing next to me, both of us looking at mom as she continued kneeling there, frozen.

I did nothing.  I was only an observer, or so I thought. I held my breath as I stared at her.  She was still alive, looking at me in silence.  Then, she fell forward.  Her bloody body that was supporting several knives fell forward and hit the floor.  Apparently the knife in her mouth wasn’t all the way in.  A defeating moan escaped her as I saw her jaw hit the floor.  It shoved the knife deeper until I saw the shiny red blade drive through her and out the back of her head.  With a struggling breath, the flow of blood cut her off and drowned her last breath.  She was finally dead. 

It was the most horrific, most disturbing sight I had ever seen.  My mother.  Seven knives in her, blood covering her.  Her mouth was cut wide open, stretching to the sides of her cheeks.

Through the silence, he finally spoke.  “Your turn,” he said to me and I nodded.  I knew then that I wasn’t myself in this dream.  The part that was screaming for this to stop was the part that realized this was a dream.  The worst I ever had.  But the part of me involved in this dream was a cruel person.

I walked to the kitchen and found Casey was there.  He smiled at me, and I smiled back.  I went to him, taking his hand.  “Come here,” I said, gesturing to the living room.  His eyes were brilliant.  They shined bright with love and happiness.

He followed me into the room, and I saw my dad was sitting on the couch.  He smiled up at us, and Casey smiled back.  That smile of his dropped at the sight of my mother dead on the floor, covered in knives and blood. 

“Don’t worry, Casey.  I love you.  Trust me, okay?”

He stared at my mother, lips parted in shock.  He was frozen, which gave me the perfect opportunity.

Casually walking to the table of knives, I grabbed one.  Turning back to him, I approached him.  His eyes were able to shift down and meet mine.  His eyes were filled with terror, filled with sadness and worry. 

“Janice?” he asked in a broken whisper.

Reaching up, I wrapped my free hand around him, pulling my lips up to his and kissed him.  I felt him tense, but he kissed me back softly for that moment.

“I love you,” I whispered over his lips before driving the knife into his stomach.  He nearly collapsed as he fell on me for support.  He did let me go though and went down on his knees.  He bent forward as he was kneeling in front of me, resting his forehead on the ground and groaning in pain.

“Janice,” he grunted, turning his head to the side and resting his cheek on the floor.  His eyes lifted and found mine; they were begging.  It told me he couldn’t believe that this actually was happening. 

Turning around, I looked back to the table full of knives and my dad sitting, watching on the couch calmly.  “I’m proud of you, baby,” he said, smiling.

I smiled at dad and walked forward, grabbing another knife as I had left the first knife in Casey.  I knelt down next to Casey, brushing my hand over his cheek.  He raised his head, watching me closely for a moment.  Then, I leaned forward and roughly held him to me, kissing his lips. I shoved the knife deep into his chest the next moment.

He groaned, breaking from my lips.  He couldn’t support himself, and he leaned forward, resting his head on my shoulder.  Stroking his hair, I heard him speak in a wheezy voice.  “Baby, I’m okay.  It’s okay.”

“I love you, Casey.”

“I love you too.”

I stood, turning around and grabbing another knife.  Coming back to him, I knelt before him.  “Take your shirt off,” I said. He did, and when it was off, the first knife was still protruding from his stomach, blood swimming down his stomach.  Blood began running down from his chest as well from the second knife in his chest. 

Knife number three I used differently.  This time, I lightly traced the knife over the skin of his neck.  Looking into his eyes, I moved the tip of the knife into his skin, just enough to make him bleed and leave a mark.  I dragged the knife along his neck before going down and along his shoulder.  Groaning, his eyes closed through his whimpering, I cut down his arm.  The long cut released a mass of warm blood.  The drops flowed beautifully down his skin, spreading over his knuckles and dripping off from the tips of his fingers. 

“Are you okay?” I asked, worried.

“Yeah, I’m fine.  It’s not your fault.  It’s not your fault.”

I smiled sweetly at him as I twisted the tip of the knife into his palm before I moved the knife to the other side of his neck.  I did the same thing as I had with his other side.  Cutting the skin open along his neck, shoulder, and arm, I then drove the knife into his thigh, making him jump and yelp.  From all the blood, all the places I stabbed, I saw him fall back in a deep groan, his back hitting the floor.  The blood that ran over his body now dripped out onto the floor, his breath turning uneven.  

Getting up, I went back to the table.  This time, I grabbed two knives.  When I walked back over to him, I looked down to him.  “Casey, you don’t look good.”  His skin was pale white, body sick and needing help. 

I knelt down, moving closer and swinging my leg up over him.  Pulling myself up, I straddled him.  I watched his eyes, the bright brown beginning to fade.  The feeling they gave off began to fade.  The emotion, the awareness, the life draining from those eyes. 

“You can’t leave me like this Casey,” I said.  I felt my eyes begin to water.  “You can’t die.”

“I will always be with you.”

I plunged both knives into him at the same time.  One through the head and one through his neck.  Once I did that, I knew he was dead. 

That was when I woke up, screaming, crying and sobbing.  That dream changed everything.

Chapter 64

My scream made me sit straight up and back into reality, the cool air brushing against my face and cooling my hot tears.  Not a second later, I felt a movement on my side.

“Janice?!” I heard his voice come through to me.  I whipped my head to where I heard his lovely voice.  My heart jumped at the realization that it was, in fact, a dream when I saw his scared and worried reaction through the moonlight.  I felt myself internally shift at that realization, and I took in a hard breath.  My eyes grew as I took in his weak yet alive form, sitting up and watching me.  Casey was alive. 

I leaned forward and grabbed him, wrapping my arms around him as fast as I could.  I pulled myself to him, my sob coming through.  I cried hard, holding him tight, knowing that that dream would be my reality soon.  Very soon. 

I was shaking, and a sick feeling came over me as the dream kept playing over in my head.  I understood.  Knew what it all meant from the moment my scream hit the air that I had killed him.  It wasn’t exactly a dream if it was partially true.  It was just a different perspective on how it was going to happen.

It was not only going to happen.  It was already happening. 

“Oh god!” I screamed into his chest, my hands gliding over his body.  Over his arms that had no cuts or blood trailing along them.  His chest was dry and smooth with the curly hairs, his stomach all there too.  My hands were shaking, moving frantically over his sweaty body.  His neck had no knife in it.  My hands slid up the side of his head and over his forehead.  No blade crossed his skin there.  After seeing he was okay, knowing for sure now, I was relieved.  Somewhat. 

That dream made me realize something that crushed my heart even more than it already was.

“Calm down!”

“I’m so sorry!  Casey!” I cried, voice high as it broke just as my heart did.  Just as everything had in the past few days.

He grasped me to him, his arms comforting me, holding me.  He shouldn’t, though.  I didn’t deserve comfort.  His fingers spreading over my back, he tightly held me against him under the streaks of the moonlight entering the privacy of the low tree.  The slight breeze that ruffled our hair kissed the tears on my cheeks, freezing them before more came.

“Shhh,” he whispered, trying to calm me.  “It was only a dream, it wasn’t real.”

“Yes, it was!” I cried, pushing myself further into his arms, the side of my head resting against his.  My breath was hard and trembling, mixing with a cry that I tried my hardest to keep quiet when I spoke.  “I did it!  I did!  Oh!” My breath and voice unstable, I gasped, catching what air I could.  “It’s my fault!  My fault!  I’m killing you!  I made this happen!”

His arms tensed.  “What are you talking about?”

In a daze, the pieces coming together, I spoke in a whisper that I could barely hear because, maybe, I didn’t want to admit the truth.  “You didn’t want to leave the bed.  I made you!  I made us get up and out of bed that day.”

My body shaking harder as I felt a twitch in his body.  A movement, a thought, the realization of my words.  He grasped my shoulders suddenly, pushing me back so he could look at me.  He gripped my arms hard, teeth clenched and eyes full of feeling. 

“Don’t ever -
ever
- think for a second that this is your fault!” he said, voice strong while on edge with anger.  “It is not your fault.” I gasped.  Those words he spoke…  It was what he said in the dream.  “It is!  You wanted to just lie in bed all day, and I made us get up.  If we stayed in bed, you never would have gotten up and never would have gotten dressed.  You never would have been bitten by that rat!  It’s my fault!  I am slowly killing you, and the first stab of that knife was when the rat bit you! Now, you are just suffering!  More and more and it’s my fault!”

I cried, eyes blurring the already dark sight of him in front of me.  Blinking my eyes, the tears fell with all the others down my cheeks.  I somehow made myself quiet.  I needed to hear this and needed him to understand that it was my fault.

“Would you shut up about me considering your feelings as my first priority?!” Though he looked older, weaker now that he was sick, those eyes were filled with fire.  “Just because I care about you and your pain for me doesn’t mean I would lie to assure you of anything.  I am not going to lie to protect your feelings.  You want the truth? This is the truth!  It is not your goddamn fault!”

“But I was the one th—”

“Yes!” he cut me off.  “You suggested for us to go fishing because we needed to.  I even agreed, which is why I got out of bed with you!  Did you intentionally let a rat bite me?  Did you know it was there?  No, you did not!”

Though my heart was broken, it didn’t stop twisting in my chest.  “It still happened because of me,” I said unevenly.

I saw the anger drain from his face because he saw where I was coming from now.  It was true, and he couldn’t deny that.  It was a fact.  His eyes caressed me in sadness and love, worry and understanding.  He pulled me closer to him, pressing his chest against mine as his hands slid up my neck, cupping both of my cheeks.

“It doesn’t matter.”  His thumbs brushed my tears away, his heart in his eyes and deep in mine.  “I don’t care.”

“It matters to me.  Though not intentional, I still made you lose everything.  I’m the cause of this.  You are dying because of me.” My chin quivering, body still somewhat shaking, I heard my voice break again.  “Our happiness, our laughter, our love, Casey!  Your life, our future!  Just gone in a matter of hours or days, it doesn’t matter.  All gone!  Because of me.”

His eyes widened, outrage moving over his face.  Something dominated it all, and that was disbelief.  He was shocked that I would say that.  His eyebrows dipped over his eyes wild, his body going tense.  His thumbs over my cheeks froze.  “All gone? All gone.”  He let that sink in his head.  “Our love?  Did you just hear yourself?”

I recognized that I had actually said that.  And I was so very wrong for saying it because I didn’t mean it in the way he was taking it.  He would be gone, true.  But that didn’t mean everything that happened never existed.

“I—”

“I know you didn’t mean it that way,” he said quickly, understanding and reassuring me.  “Yeah, technically, it was because of you that this is happening, but don’t you dare think that it destroyed anything between us.  Yes, I’m going to lose a long life with you.  The point is, we were on our way to living that life.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, the lump in my throat growing.

“You say you caused this to happen.  You also caused me to fall in love with you, to be here with you, living with the time we had.  I would rather die right now, right this second than die a bitter old man with a woman I don’t love. Finding you was the best thing that has ever happened to me.”  He leaned in, stressing his words with his begging eyes.  I registered his words and felt my lips part in a small moan, more tears nearing.  “I don’t care if you made us get up that morning.  You made me find myself again, made me see my life was meant to be lived with you.  Janice,” he shook his head.  “Our time together, no matter how short, was worth this.  It was, honey.  It was so wonderful, and it was all because of you.  You saved me, gave me all I needed… gave me so much love that I can be proud to leave this island as a man who experienced that love.”

I cried harder, looking into his eyes.  It was too much.  Way too much.  I dropped my head away from his grasp and into my hand, covering my eyes as I cried.  I felt the exact same way. 

I felt his hand return, brushing his fingers against my chin.  He lifted my head up, needing to look at me.  I wiped the tears away, but it was useless.  I continued to let my broken muffled cry go on as he spoke.  “Do you know what my eighteenth birthday wish was when I was about to blow out the candles on my cake?”

I shook my head, waiting, needing his words.

“That year, I broke up with my girlfriend of a few weeks.  I was tired of not having anybody that I could get serious with.  That is why I wished for a girl that would stay with me.  Someone that would love me, make me smile and laugh, and love her back.  I wished for a girl that would understand me.  Yearned for a girl that was smart, funny, kind, passionate, and beautiful in every way that fit me.  One with so much life, so much energy thriving within her.” He paused, swallowing hard. It was clear that it was hard for him to say this.  He slid his hands back up to cup both of my cheeks, letting my tears fall over his hands as he continued.  His voice cracked when he said his next words.  “That birthday, I wished to have a girl that would one day become my wife.  A girl that would stand by me through everything, no matter what.  A girl that would one day become an amazing parent with me.  A girl who would grow old with me.  One that would watch our babies have babies.  I desired a girl I would spend the rest of her life with me.”

“Oh god,” I cried shakily, my hands tightening around him.

He went on, unable to stop as he licked his lips.  “My wish finally came true.  That girl is you.  I found the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with.  Despite the fact that we have been together for a short amount of time, I know it’s you.”  He placed a light kiss on my trembling lips, cutting off the quiet sob.  When he broke away, he seemed ready to break too.  A tear fell from his eye as he went on, voice high and cracking.  “Honey, I want to marry you.  Have kids with you.  I want to grow old with you.  I want to spend the rest of my life with you. 
You
.”

I was sobbing now as I nailed my eyes to his.  Him.  The man I knew I wanted that exact future with. The man that would have been my husband and the father of my kids. The man I knew I would have grown old with. 
Would have
.

I was breathing hard uneven breaths. He pulled his lips to mine deeply, kissing me with so much love.  His touch against my cheeks, his smooth bare skin where my hands rested… I felt him.  I moved closer, winding a hand in his hair as my other hand cupped his slightly wet cheek.  His lips moved lovingly in sync against mine until I broke that rhythm. 

I couldn’t help it because I couldn’t hold back my cry for that long.  My lips breaking with a whimper, we stayed there, not a few centimeters apart.  His hot breath against my face, I trembled again.  Through my soft cry, I managed to speak.

“Though we probably never would have gotten the opportunity to get married anyway, I would still want to be your wife.”   I groaned.  “Christ, I want that.”

“Kids?” he asked in a whisper close to my mouth

Nodding, I answered. “I always wanted two or three kids; and, a father that would be there for them. You would be that beautiful father to them.”

He closed his eyes, squeezing them tight with his eyebrows dipping low in hurt.  Hurt that it wouldn’t happen.  When he opened his eyes after a second of silence, his arms tightened around me.  I felt him pull me to him, and I wrapped my arms up and around his neck, my body against him.  Hugging him tight as I cried, I tucked my head into the crook of his neck as he gently rubbed my back. 

“I wanted a few kids myself,” he whispered just barely in my ear. 

Another tear fell for that. A tear for every second of his life cut short.

He then leaned back, pulling me with him. He slowly rested his back against the ground. I shifted until I was on my side, leaning most of my body against him.  My leg draping over his, I wrapped an arm around him, my cheek pressing against his chest, which was quickly invaded with the remaining tears I shed.

He went on, reluctant in a way.  “Despite the fact that it won’t happen, I still want it too.  Do you understand that?  I still want those things, and though I won’t get them, it doesn’t mean you don’t.”

I froze at those words, internally cringing.  I wouldn’t let the possibility cross my mind.  I didn’t let it because I didn’t want that.  I shook my head silently against him, not even considering it for a second.  Even if I did eventually get rescued, I didn’t want to think about that now.  It would never happen anyway. 

Responding to that stubborn shake of my head, he slid his fingers through my hair, stroking my brown strands there.  “Just know that if you ever get off this island, I want you to move on with a man that—”

“Don’t,” I said. 

“I know you don’t want to think about that or want that now.  After a couple years, you’re going to want the life you wanted with me, and I can’t give it to you.  I’m just putting out there that I want you to be happy.  I want you to live your life, even if it’s with another man.”

“That’s not going to happen,” I said quickly, mainly because I have thought a lot about what I was going to do after he was gone.  There weren’t exactly too many choices.  “I didn’t want to bring this up, but you and I both know how slim the chance is of me being found.” I cringed at my last few words.  Me.  Not us.  “I’m not leaving this island.  It’s not going to happen.” I sighed.  I decided to hold back my other words.  He had enough to worry about.

However, he heard the silence I brought.  “What is it?” he asked.

With a groan, I told him.  “Casey, I can’t stay here alone.”

He knew what I was getting at.  His body tensed his eyes met mine full of intensity and shock.