The Broken Lake (2 page)

“Officer, Andy didn’t try to harm me. He tried to kill me.”

They looked at each other. “Right,” replied the first officer. “Can you tell us what happened?”

“Yes, I can. Andy pulled me over, pretending to be one of you guys.” I hoped the mention of his impersonation would irritate them a little. “And then he chloroformed me and took me to some basement and tried to kill me.”

“Right. We know that much. What we don’t know is exactly what happened in that room. Can you share it with us?”

I took a deep breath. It wasn’t something I wanted to relive. But, it seemed like the only way for them to get the picture and leave me and Wes alone. I told them how Andy thought the cold-blood antibodies were the key to some revolutionary cure, and then I started deviating from the truth. I told them that Andy believed medical labs were purposely hiding a prevention for death. I said that once he found out Wes was the late Dr. Thomas’ great-nephew, he wanted to cash in on the research. He was crazy, I told them. Then I explained how I convinced him the cold-blood serum mixed with human blood would make him live longer.

They looked like they wanted to laugh and I wasn’t sure if it was due to my account or Andy’s stupidity, so I continued. “Andy’s elevator obviously didn’t go all the way to the top floor. So he injected himself, and for a while he thought it was working. That’s when he decided to drain me of all my blood so he could sell it.” I shook my head and shuddered.

“Why did he want to sell it?” the rounder officer asked.

“Because he was insane. He actually thought he could mix some potion and sell it to dying people for millions of dollars.”

The first officer spoke again. “So where does Mr. Wilson come in?”

A lump started to build in my throat, but I kept it under control while trying to remember the secondhand account my mom told me. “Well, I was talking to Wes on the phone when Andy pulled me over, and Wes overheard him threatening to hurt me.”

That was partly true. I was on the phone with Wes all right, but he overheard Andy call me Lenny—a name that Wes would associate with me from one of my past lives. But they didn’t need to know that part.

“So, Ms. Slone, at what point did Mr. Wilson arrive?”

This is where the story gets blurry for me, because I don’t really remember. I thought I was dead and floating to heaven, for Pete’s sake. I had no idea what the heck was happening around me, but I do remember Andy screaming in pain. The cold-blood must have reached his heart right about the time Wes arrived. Even if that wasn’t what happened, it sounded good to me.

“I was about to pass out from blood loss.” Somehow that didn’t sound strong enough, so I restated it. “I was about to pass out from that maniac draining my blood, when I heard him fall to the floor. I opened my eyes to see him clawing at himself. Then he started shouting and freaking out. That’s when Wes arrived. He didn’t know why Andy was flipping out, so he grabbed his hand and they struggled. That’s all I remember.”

They each nodded and raised their eyebrows at each other. Then the round one spoke.

“Thank you, Ms. Slone. That’s all we need.” They both stood up. “Again, we’re sorry about what happened. We’re glad you’re all right.”

“Yeah, me too.”

The officers made their way to the door. My mother and I followed and watched as they approached their police cruiser. I felt uneasy about the whole encounter, even more so when Wes’ familiar black car pulled up. My heart skipped a beat when he got out. Part of me wanted to run across the yard, but my wits told me to stay put and let him casually come to me,
after
he walked right past the two officers who had just inquired about his possible guilt for murder.

It was no surprise that Wes handled the situation with his usual coolness. The officers were sitting in their cruiser by the time Wes began his walk up my driveway. Giving a respectful gesture, Wes glanced into the car window and nodded at both of the officers as he passed. I couldn’t hold back my smile as he drew near.

“Hello, Wes. Please come in.” My mom greeted him, taking control of our encounter.

“Thank you, Ms. Slone.”

“Wes,” I said, pressing myself against his chest, careful not to bump my hand. I felt him inhale the scent of my hair as he gently squeezed me. “I missed you,” I whispered.

“I missed you too.” He pulled away and gave me a look-over. He ran his thumb over my cheek, and I could see his disappointment when he noticed my covered bruises.

“I’m fine, Wes. Thanks to you.”

My mother cleared her throat. “Why don’t you guys have a seat? I’ll make you something to drink.”

I took his hand and pulled him toward the living room sofa. He hadn’t taken his eyes off of me since he walked through the door, and I couldn’t tell if he was staring at me or my bruises.

“It’s really not that bad,” I told him.

“I’m so sorry this happened to you.” He put his head down and I sensed his withdrawal.

“Wes, it’s not your fault.”

“I would have killed him if—”

“But you didn’t,” I said quickly. It didn’t seem to make him feel any better, so I added another fact. “I would’ve killed him too, you know?”

He smiled. My mom brought us two glasses of lemonade and then she looked skeptically at Wes. “Thanks, Mom.” I motioned with my eyes for her to leave and she hesitantly took the cue.

“Do you mind if we go somewhere to talk?” Wes asked.

“I’d love to.”

We got up and went to the closet to pull out my coat when my mother reappeared.

“Sophie, where are you going?”

“We’re just going for a little drive. I’ll be right back.”

“Are you sure that’s such a good idea? You just got home.”

I leaned in to give her a kiss on the cheek. “Yes, Mom, I’m sure.”

“Be careful. Please take care of her, Wes.”

He nodded in agreement. We got in the car, and I still felt a sense of distance.

“Your mom is worried,” he said.

“I know. She doesn’t handle stress very well. She’ll be fine.”

“What if she’s not?”

“Oh, she will be. She just needs some time to settle down.”

“I don’t want to come between you two.”

“Wes, you won’t. She likes you and she’s completely grateful for you saving me. She just needs a few cappuccinos to settle her nerves.”

He laughed softly, but it sounded distant and unfamiliar. I started getting nervous. He placed his hand on my thigh which relaxed me a little.

“Are you hungry?” he asked.

“Yes,” I answered casually. I wanted normalcy again, and I was starving.

“Anywhere in particular?”

“No, you pick.”

He squeezed my leg and I put my hand on top of his. He chose the little sandwich shop where we had eaten many times. This time, I ordered a grilled chicken sandwich and bowl of chicken noodle soup. It was what my grandmother called make-you-feel-better food. What I hadn’t factored in was trying to eat it left-handed. Struggling to balance a spoonful of hot soup with my uncoordinated left hand only highlighted my injury. Noticing him frown, I pushed the bowl to the side and dug into my sandwich.

“Aren’t you going to eat?” I asked.

“I’m not hungry.”

“Then why did you order?”

He thought about it for a second. “I thought I was hungry, but not so much anymore.”

“What’s wrong?”

He sidestepped my question. “Can you tell me what happened in that basement?”

“Wes, I don’t really want to think about that too much.”

He leaned forward. “Sophie, I need to know what you went through. When I saw you strapped to that chair, I…” His eyes started to glaze over.

“Stop. Please. It wasn’t that bad,” I lied. “He was just some crazy, washed-up guy who wanted to be like you.”

“How did he know what I was like?”

I started reeling off what I could remember of what Andy had said, and Wes stopped me at the part about the military operation.

“Whoa. Slow down. What study?” he asked.

“Oh. Sorry. I don’t know, really. He said they were experimenting with making soldiers stronger or something. I think he said it was extracts from the blood. He said it worked, but only temporarily. He said the government halted the project and sent the soldiers to rehab and then home. That was the end of it, until he saw me on campus. Then when he saw me with you, he figured out who you are, and he thought I was Lenny. He wanted to have everlasting life, like he thought we did.”

Wes was shaking his head.

“So, anyway, I convinced him that he could be like you if he injected himself with cold-blood.”

“Why was he extracting
your
blood?” His face was hard and I knew he was seeing an image of me passed out in the chair. I wanted to replace that with a more positive image, so I hurried the story along.

“I convinced him that my blood was the missing ingredient to the serum, and he believed me.”

“Sophie, why would you do that? He almost killed you.”

“I didn’t think it through. I just thought that if he tried it, he’d kill himself and then I’d be okay.” I was finished eating and pushed my plate away. “So what did you do to him?” I asked, not even sure I wanted to know.

“When I came in and saw him leaning over you, I grabbed him by the back of his neck and threw him up against the wall. You were completely out of it and beyond pale. I took the needle out of your arm and that’s when I saw your hand.” His jaw tightened and he stared off at what I was sure was some unpleasant visual. He took a deep breath before continuing. “I was untying your ropes when he came at me. That’s when I paid more attention to him. He looked like he was on some sort of high. I had my hands around his neck when he screamed from a pain I hadn’t caused yet.

“You mumbled that he had the blood in him, and then I realized what was happening. He started convulsing and grabbing at his chest so I dropped him on the floor. He was looking up at me with a revolting plea in his eyes and that’s when I leaned over and gave his hand a much-deserved squeeze.” He paused. “And then he died.” I leaned forward because he was speaking so softly by then. “I would’ve killed him.”

I reached my good hand across the table and placed it over his. “But you didn’t.”

He exhaled an unconvincing sigh of relief. “Because of you.”

I felt he was giving me way too much credit, but I took it and ran with it. “That’s what I’m here for,” I said, smiling. “To make sure you’re all right.”

“I would’ve been just fine if I had…killed him.” He was unremorseful in his admission, and I wasn’t surprised, nor did I really blame him.

“Me too,” I also admitted. “But the cops might not have been fine with it. They’re already all over you about the hand. You could’ve left his hand alone, you know. He was dying anyway.”

“No, I couldn’t have.”

“Okay, maybe you’re right. He deserved the hand,
again
.” I smiled.

He returned the gesture. “You ready?”

I thought of telling him about the dream I had when I was there and then decided not to. I figured it could wait until I actually remembered what was on the pages. It didn’t make sense to tell him I
almost
saw the formula Dr. Thomas had used to transfuse him. Besides, I didn’t really care about it then. I was sure it would come up sometime in the future, but for now, I was only concerned with the two of us. So I answered yes, and together we walked out to his car with his arm comfortably around my shoulder.

As we crossed the parking lot, we were both captivated by the view over the mountain. There was a huge mural of bold red and orange hues stretching across the sky. It made me feel so calm and alive. After Wes opened the car door for me, he put his cool palms on both sides of my face and leaned down to press his perfect, gentle lips to mine. It was then that I knew he wasn’t going anywhere, and there wasn’t any feeling better than that.

W
e were about a mile from my house when I realized our alone time was about to end, so I asked him if he would stay with me that night.

He placed his hand comfortably on my thigh, while driving, and answered, “Of course. You don’t have to ask me.”

The perfect corners of his mouth turned into a full-blown smile, and then he winked. My stomach instantly got all tickly. I didn’t know what was wrong with me. It was as if it was our first date again. Almost like starting over, and I suppose it was.

I mean, I did almost die, thinking I would never see him again. Yet here we were, together. I felt so happy, so complete, and
so
scared.
Why am I still scared?
Almost like when I thought I was dying. I could almost see him slipping away right before my eyes. No, not him slipping away from me…
I
was slipping away. Maybe not at that exact moment, but I was. It was only a matter of time. I felt it. Feared it. It made me almost sick to my stomach.

He squeezed my leg to snap me out of my reverie. “Sophie, what’s wrong?”

I looked at him, and he was more desirable to me at that moment than he’d ever been, and I didn’t think that was possible. I wanted him with me every second, forever, yet something in me was gnawing at my insides, almost taunting me. Telling me,
You don’t have much time. It can’t last forever. You will die. It will come for you.
I felt a jolt.

“Sophie! What is it?” The car slowed as he pulled over, and I melted into a basket case as the tears started spilling over. “Is it your hand?”

Are you kidding me? My hand?
I wish.
That was nothing compared to the knots and turns going on in my stomach.

“Sophie, what’s wrong? Tell me, please.”

I couldn’t stop, and I actually don’t think I wanted to. I had held in so many emotions over the last few days, that all of it was bound to come out sometime. Only now the relief of escaping death was coupled with the haunting knowledge that it was coming anyway. It was too much.

“I’m sorry, Wes. I’m an idiot.”

He started frantically searching his console for a tissue. When he didn’t find one, he used his thumbs to wipe away the dripping river.