Jayne Doe (14 page)

He looks at his phone again and dials his mom.

“Hello?” her voice is tired from the medication.

“Mom.” His voice cracks. “I need you to get to the window and tell me if Jayne's truck is in her driveway.”

“Is something wrong?” Her tiredness immediately switches to concern.

“Please just look and see if Jayne's home.”

She smiles and I can feel her happiness emanating under her pale skin. “I remember doing this when you were little. You're not stalking the poor girl again, are you?” she jokes.

“No, Mom.” He lets out a shaky breath. “Is her truck there?”

“I don't see it, dear.”

His stomach falls and the feeling is so violent it could be mine. “I love you, Mom. I'll call you later. I need to call Dad.” He ends the call before she can say anything else.

Where are you, Jayne?

“Dad.” Casey screams into his cell. “Have you seen Jayne on campus?”

“Not since last week. Why?”

“I'm looking for her.”

“The last time I saw her was when I dropped her off.” He’s excited that Casey's finally talking about a girl.

“If you see her, please don't let her out of your sight. And call me.” Panic rises in Casey's voice and it's unmistakable.

“Son, what's wrong? What's going on?”

“Nothing, Dad. I just need to talk to her.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” He assumes they've slept together and Jayne broke it off.

“Not right now, but later okay?” Casey disconnects.

Answer me, Jayne,
he thinks.

I leave Casey for a minute and step into Mom's kitchen. There's an empty bottle of Jack on the counter. I wouldn't expect anything less. She’s passed out on the couch and Martha is still in bed.

Billy?

I slip through his door.

The room is full of smoke and I can barely see more than a few feet in front of me. He's sitting on the floor flipping through his Lynard Skynard albums high as a kite. The colors on the album covers remind him of a kaleidoscope and he's giggling.

Beth?

I'm standing next to her in the frozen food section of Wal-Mart. She's picking out microwavable dinners and talking on her cell. I concentrate, but it's not Jayne. It's some guy Beth's had a crush on for a while.

“Beth, where's Jayne?” I yell at her and slam my fist down in her cart, but it doesn't so much as move an inch.

She shakes her head, clearly irritated.

“Where's Jayne?”

Beth pushes her cart forward and heads for the check out. She's uncomfortable and suddenly worried that Jayne didn't make it home last night. She's worried that she should have waited for her instead of speeding off for her late-night date.

Suddenly I’m with Casey again. He's combing the trailer park asking anyone who'll answer the door if they've seen Jayne. Hank opens on the first knock. I step up beside Casey.

“Hank, have you seen your old truck today?” Casey asks and Hank lets out a deep breath, which turns to an icy fog in the air. “I'm looking for Jayne.”

Hank's breath is laced with beer. “I didn't rip her off.” His fist snakes at his side. “I don't care what her mother says.”

“I know that,” Casey says, comforting Hank. “Nobody thinks you did.”

Hank smiles and pulls the door wide open. “You want to come in for some coffee?”

“I'm sorry, but I'm in a hurry.”

“Well, I think I saw her fighting with her boyfriend next to Sue's place. Isn't that your mom?”

“How long ago? Today?”

“Yeah. Maybe an hour ago. Then her mother came over here and let me have it about that truck being a pile of shit.” His face falls.

“Thank you, Hank.” Casey reaches out and squeezes the older man's shoulder. Then he runs back to the car he left idling.

“You tell that crazy woman to stay away from here.” Hank shakes his fist as Casey drives away.

Casey pulls up to his mom's place and parks, sprinting over to my house. He knocks on the front door, but not nearly hard enough. Mom's dead to the world and Billy's ear-buds are up so loud I'm surprised he still has any hearing left. But Martha. She's still in bed, fully awake. She slips a pillow over her head, annoyed at the noise.

“Knock harder.” I shout.

Casey beats on the door, rattling the wood in its frame.

He pounds again.

Martha is coming. And she's pissed.

The door whips open. “What the hell do you want? You better not let Mom catch you here. She'll go ape shit in your ass.” She runs her eyes and smooths down the mess of hair on her head.

“Where's Jayne?”

“With her
boyfriend
.” Martha tugs her too-tight camisole down over her stomach. “Let me give you a piece of advice. Leave Jayne alone before you get your ass kicked.”

Casey nods. There's no point in arguing; Jayne's with Johnny. He returns to his car, climbs in, and stares out the windshield in a daze.

“What are you doing? Go to Johnny's house.” I don't care what kinds of demons surround that house. I need to get there. Then I realize I don't need Casey to do it.

I leave his car and instantly I tense up at the sound of the woman's voice.

“Where is she?” I open my eyes and confront the vile thing staring at me.

“Who?”

“My sister.”

“Haven't seen her.” She's not lying. I close my eyes and zap myself back into Casey's car.

He’s driving through town, searching every parking lot for a sign of that old pickup truck. He can't imagine where she and Johnny could be. I picture Johnny. Then I'm in a dark room; I've never been here before. The cloying smell of cheap cologne assaults me. It's Johnny's cologne, but it's mixed with something else. Brandy. His dad's expensive brandy. And Johnny's guilty, but I can't tell why. His mind is too hazy from the liquor. But I see Jayne's face. It's...broken.

“What have you done?” Rage surges through my body and out my fingertips. Johnny slaps his hands over his ears.

“Where the hell is my sister?”

He slumps out of the desk chair and stumbles a few steps away. The glass of brandy clatters to the floor, soaking his clothes. “I'm sorry,” he cries to himself.

“You're not sorry.”

He grabs the crystal glass next to him and throws is against the wall sending shards of debris across the room.

“Why does she make me so angry? Why?”

“You did this.” I scream “Not her.”

He weeps into his jeans, but refuses to take the blame. It's Jayne's fault for making him mad. His dad's fault for not loving him enough. It's my fault. He’s never going to take responsibility. I can tell this is going nowhere so I find Casey still prowling and I drop into the seat next to him.

“Please find her,” my voice is hoarse from yelling and the sob that threatens to rip free from my chest.

He's frantic. He's thinking of places he hasn't checked yet. Tanning salons. A movie theater. Her doctor's office.

“Her doctor? The hospital?” he says out loud. Then his mind calculates the fastest route.

I refuse to wait that long.

Seventeen

Voices.

Screaming babies.

Sanitizer.

Cold bodies.

“Help me.” A strange man reaches out for me as I race through the halls searching for the only face in this world I want to see.

Soggy cafeteria food.

Trays.

Clanging utensils.

Sickness.

I cover my face with my hands and keep running, avoiding the specters launching themselves at me from all directions. I close my eyes and focus on Jayne. I don't know if she's here; I can't feel her.

The thought scares me more than anything else. I concentrate harder.

Come on, Jill. You can do this.
I say to myself.

I hear something.

A sluggish heartbeat.

Her lilting voice.

Oh, please no.

I enter a room where a body rests upon a bed covered in white sheets, hooked up to a dozen machines. Things that beep. Things with alarms. I move closer. It’s Jayne. I graze her bruised face with my fingertips.

Jayne.

I'm too late.

“
Jill.
” She screams in her mind.

I look around, fearing the worst. As much as I want to be able to hug her, she can't die yet. Not like this.

“
Jill, where are you? I'm so scared.
”

I stare down at the bed. The voice is coming from her body, but at the same time, it’s disconnected.

She's in a coma.

I freeze. I don't want her to know I'm here. I don't want her to leave her body.

The door to her room opens and heavy feet shuffle over the white linoleum. The curtain rips open.

Casey, you found us.

“Casey?” Jayne hears me.

He rushes to her bedside and gently touches her face, her hands. He falls to the ground. A doctor walks in behind him.

“You can't be in here.” The doctor is being polite, but firm.

“What happened to her?” Casey lifts his head and displays bloodshot eyes.

“Son, you can't be in here.” The doctor clutches a clipboard to his chest.

“Dr. Smithing,” Casey says, recognizing him from a medical class he taught at the university. “Please? I need to know what happened.”

Dr. Smithing's face falls and he swallows hard. “We have to contact her family first.

“Will she be okay?” Casey will settle for the smallest of answers, anything to hold him over until he can find out more.

“She's in critical condition—”

“What happened?” Casey leaps to his feet.

“Car accident.” Dr. Smithing gives in and I instantly like him. He knows Casey is genuinely concerned. But he knows he's also in violation of patient privacy.

“You expect me to believe that?” Casey laughs, but his voice is cold, devoid of emotion. “The bruise on her arm looks like a baseball bat,” he says, pointing to a wide, purple splotch. “And those look like fists.” He spins around, heading for the door. He knows he won't get any more from Dr. Smithing.

“You know,” Casey turns back and stares hard at the doctor. “You don't have to graduate from medical school to see that she's had the shit beat out of her.” Casey's fists are clenched at his sides.

“You need to go.”

“Fine. But do you have a pen and paper?”

The doctor hands him the clipboard. “This is her home phone number,” Casey says, scribbling notes. “But you'll have to speak with Martha. She's the only one around.”

Eighteen

Casey floors the gas out of the hospital parking lot, hands clenched around his steering wheel so hard his knuckles are white. Though I can feel his anger, his face is smooth and serene, a deadly calm. Houses and cars whip past as we speed through residential streets and small neighborhoods. He's lost his mind.

When he passes the trailer park and the Sinclair, he starts up the hill. My stomach falls as the pieces click into place.

Johnny.

Even though Casey and Johnny are roughly the same stature, Johnny fights without remorse. Casey is gentle and kind, his rage stemming only from love, not psychosis.

Tires squeal and the tarry smell of burning rubber fills the car as he slams the brakes. He wants Johnny to know he's here. I focus on the interior of the house. Johnny is here, but he doesn't know Casey's outside.

Casey blares the horn.

Johnny raises his eyebrows. He wonders if it's his dad, if he's been caught. He cowers on the edge of his bed, formulating an explanation. He wants his father to bail him out. But no lie is good enough to cover this.

Beads of sweat spring out on Casey's forehead as he blares the horn again.

Johnny opens the basement door. He has no idea Casey’s in front of his house. I feel him coming closer. I wish he could feel me. Feel my anger seething just for him. Feel the way I want to tear out his eyes and make him feel all the things Jayne had to feel. That I had to feel.

Johnny swipes his hands across his face; wiping away any trace of the shameful tears he doesn't want his father to see and rounds the corner of the yard.

Casey steps out of the car.

Johnny stops dead in his tracks.

I stay close to Casey, feeding from his strength as a swarm of dark figures surround Johnny, encasing him in all-consuming blackness. They're thirsty for a fight. Johnny reaches down and picks up a wooden baseball bat buried in the snow.

“Get out of here, Casey.” I scream at him and pound my fists against his chest.

Casey doesn't speak. I focus on his thoughts. He's not scared. He's logical, sorting out the situation and calculating his best plan of attack.

“Why don't we do this in the street,” Casey says, his voice steady. “Public property.” He saunters forward at a leisurely pace. Johnny’s hands grip the bat like he's ready to swing. He wants to hear Casey's bones snap beneath it. Like Jayne's did.

“No.” I scream and stand in front of Casey. The dark creatures move away from Johnny and approach me, feeding off of me like hungry dogs. I moan in pain, trying to keep them outside my body.
I'm sorry, Casey.
I lurch forward and jump into the car. The creatures scratch against the metal frame singing their locust song, but they can't touch me in here.

Johnny swings his bat at Casey, trying to intimidate him. “What the f—”

“So now you’re a tough guy with big-boy words?” Casey takes a small step back and balances his weight on the balls of his feet. Johnny creeps closer, close enough that if he swings he'll connect.

“Casey.” I scream from the car. The hollow sound of blood rushing in my ears drowns out the noise from the creatures, but it can't wipe away the scene unfolding in front of me.

“Who the hell do you think you are?” Johnny lunges at Casey.

Casey braces himself and squats at the last minute, thrusting his shoulder up into Johnny's stomach. Johnny' drops the bat and grabs Casey around the waist. The two fall into the snow, grappling with each other as the demons swarm them.

Casey stretches and lifts Johnny by his shirt before slamming him down onto the icy ground below. A whoosh of air rushes from his chest, the dark creatures immediately fill the space. Casey jumps on top of him and throws an elbow into his face. Johnny's left eye immediately swells.