Vestige (20 page)

Clarke took the phone from Manny and stared at the picture. Blood rushed to her head and her brain pounded as all the pieces came together. Yes, Mr. Daniel Grimshaw was the man from her dreams and the woman standing next to him, his wife, was none other than Lilith, her mother.

Clarke tried to keep her hand steady as she passed the phone back to Manny. “I need to get out of here.”

“The only way out is with a tag.” Manny put the phone back in his pocket. “I should get back upstairs. I’ll check on you again in a couple of hours.”

As the door locked, Clarke returned to the cot. She picked up the empty cup and set it on the floor. Then, she curled up on the bare mattress careful to avoid the wet spot. How was she going to get out of this place before 6:00?

Her thoughts were foggy. She needed to rest. She tried to close her eyes, but she began to shiver. If only she hadn’t lost her jacket…. In an attempt to keep warm, she stuffed her hands into her pockets and that’s when she found the Sharpie. She took it out and twirled it in her fingers thinking of the day in the bunker—that perfect day she had spent with Micah. God, she loved him. Why did he have to ruin everything? Or maybe she should be asking herself why did she have to ruin everything?

Clarke took the cap off the marker and turned towards the wall. She drew a heart, and on the inside, she wrote
Clarke loves Micah!!! XOXO.
She replaced the cap and stared at her graffiti. Within minutes, her eyelids began to droop. The marker fell from her hand and dropped between the cot and the wall.

“Clarke…. Wake up, Clarke.”

Clarke opened her eyes and looked up at the florescent light hanging over her.

“Clarke…”

She sat up expecting Manny but gasped when she saw Grimshaw standing at the foot of her bed. She jumped to her feet. “Who are you? What do you want from me?” Was she dreaming again, or was he really here?

“You know who I am, silly girl. I wanted to see you.” Grimshaw leaned against the wall and brushed his fingernails against his suit coat.

“Are you married to my mother?”

“Are you jealous? You shouldn’t be. I just married her to get to you. Honestly, Lilith is too old for me. I gave her a makeover, but there was only so much I could do with the materials that I had to work with.” Grimshaw took a few steps closer. “Soon, I’ll take you away from all of this. Your life will be easy with me.”

“I’m not going with you. I love Micah. I’ll never leave him.”

“But you did leave him. I think that once you get to know me, you’ll forget all about your old life.” Grimshaw reached his arms out and wrapped them around Clarke.

She tried to hold on to her thoughts of Micah, but they began to fade. She closed her eyes and tried to picture his face—his gray eyes, his gentle smile, his sandy blond hair, but his image grew faint and distant. Clarke was locked in Grimshaw’s embrace. His face was slowly replacing Micah’s. She could smell sandalwood…no it was maple syrup.

Clarke opened her eyes. She was covered with a heavy military jacket. She pushed the makeshift blanket off and sat up. Manny was tiptoeing out of her cell. “Manny?”

“Sorry, did I wake you? I was worried you were cold. Oh and I brought you a couple pancakes from my breakfast rations.”

“Thanks. I’m glad you woke me up. What time is it?”

“It’s close to 5:30. Mr. Grimshaw will be here soon. That’s why I came down so early. I didn’t know if I’d get another chance to...” Manny paused. “I'd better get back upstairs.”

“Yeah…thanks again.” Oh no! Only thirty minutes to come up with a plan, but first, those pancakes. After all, she had no idea when she’d get another chance to eat. She was in too much of a hurry to use the fork and knife, so she rolled each pancake into a tube and shoved them into her mouth. The syrup dripped down her fingers making her hands sticky.

Wait…Manny gave her a fork and a knife, a steak knife. He certainly wasn’t the brightest crayon in the box. She had to get him back down here, and then she could….

Clarke’s flesh tingled as the hum of electricity and the glow from the light bulbs were sucked from her cell. Within a millisecond, she stood in complete darkness—another outage. That familiar panic began to erupt from her nerve endings, but she had to push it down because this was it. This was her chance to make her move.

Maybe Manny would believe that she was afraid of the dark. Clarke gripped the fork and knife tightly in one hand, and then she screamed as loud as she could.

It worked. Almost immediately, she heard the door to her cell open. “Clarke, are you okay? It’s only a blackout. Where are you?"

“Manny?” Oops, it was too dark to see him. She couldn’t even see the door.

“Just hang tight, Clarke. The emergency generator should kick in any minute,” Manny said.

“Okay.” She was sickened by the thought of what she was about to do to him, but she didn’t see another way out of this.

A loud click echoed through the building, and the power roared back on. The cell light flickered.

Clarke planned to sink the utensils into Manny’s eye, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Luckily, his hand lay flat against the wall in front of her, and she had a clear shot.

Before poor Manny could register what was going to happen to him, Clarke plunged the fork and knife into his hand and ran out the door. She could hear his wailing all the way upstairs. He was clearly too shocked or too hurt or both to go after her.

Once outside, she was relieved that the streets were still dark. Apparently, the floodlights weren’t on a generator. She needed to find Micah, but first, the locket. Grimshaw and Lilith would be at the police station soon, so she could go back to her house right away. Maybe Micah would even be there waiting for her. And if he wasn’t there, she would head to the church. They were supposed to meet with Father Thomas in the morning anyway. Surely, Micah would eventually show up at St. Francis.

Clarke had to hurry the sun was coming up. She’d be an easy target in the daylight. As she walked, she thought about what Micah had said again. “It’s not what you think…” What did she think? Nothing…. Did she ever think? Her actions were more like reactions. And what if Micah reacted? What if he ignored her explanation just like she ignored his?

When Clarke finally reached her house, she stood on the sidewalk, soaking in the sight. It would be hard to leave this place. Once she left, she would probably never return. Even though she didn’t have many happy memories of home, this was the only place she had ever lived.

Before she stepped over the threshold, she paused. The house looked empty. It was so quiet and dark. She stepped in, closed the door, and locked it. She fumbled for the light switch and flipped it on, but the house remained dark—still no power.

Without her sight, Clarke had to rely on her other senses, and her nose was telling her that something was off. The house lacked its trademark hospital smell. Maybe enough time had passed for it to dissipate, but another scent had replaced it. Sandalwood.

She took a few steps forward but stopped. Was he here, or was it her imagination? She felt a moist warmness on the back of her neck. “Is someone here?” Her voice cracked. She could hear her heart thumping, or at least she thought it was her heart.

The hallway light crackled to life; the power was back on. Clarke spun around. No one was behind her. She should have felt relief but only anxiety pulsed through her.

Before proceeding upstairs, she glanced into the living room and gasped. It looked exactly as it did before her outburst with the knife. The curtains were whole again as if they had never been sliced and diced. The couch’s wounds had been heeled, and the throw pillows resurrected.

Goose bumps covered her arms. “Is it him? Has he been here?” She swallowed hard and continued back to the kitchen. She turned on the light. Everything looked the same. She ran to the back door and checked the lock.

The light flickered, and the TV turned on. The emergency alert buzzing filled the room. Clarke covered her ears. She ran to the TV and turned it off, but the noise continued. She reached for the cord and pulled as hard as she could until the plug lie on the floor beside her, but the buzzing wouldn’t cease.

“Stop!” Clarke screamed. “Please stop!”

Silence returned.

“All you had to say was ‘Please’,” a man’s voice whispered.

Clarke spun around looking for the owner of the voice but saw no one. “Where are you? What do you want?”

“I’m here. You’re not looking hard enough.”

Then, Clarke saw his reflection in the back door window. “Mr. Grimshaw?” she whispered.

“Daniel…remember?”

Thinking he was behind her, she turned—no one.

“Where are you?” she cried.

“I am everywhere and nowhere.”

Was his voice in her head? Clarke ran from the kitchen towards the front door. Even though the lights were on and her path clear, she crashed into something solid. She bounced back and fell to the floor. When she looked up, she saw Grimshaw looking down at her.

“How did you…? Why are you here? What do you want?”

“So many questions. I’ve been waiting for you, Clarke.” His voice sounded exactly as it did in her dreams.

Clarke stood and took several steps backwards until she hit a wall. “I thought you were going to the police station.”

“I was only going there to get you.” Grimshaw advanced. “Imagine my surprise when I arrived in LaGrange and found out you were with the Guardian. I couldn’t go near you as long as you were with him. Could I?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Clarke said.

“I suppose it’s better that way. You don’t need to know about all that. It looks like you’re done with Micah anyway.”

“How do you know Micah?” she asked.

“I guess you can say that we’re distant relatives.”

“Where’s Lilith? Did you marry her?”

“Ah yes, Lilith. Her immorality has kept my strength up these last couple of months, but I’m afraid her energy won’t be enough to get me through the next phase. And that, my sweet Clarke, is where you come in.” Grimshaw lifted his arm towards her and rested his hand on her cheek. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. He held his breath for a moment and exhaled. “All that hate…I feel stronger already.”

“Lilith…! Mom!” Clarke yelled. “Are you here?”

“My wife has gone back to Washington. She did have a difficult time leaving without you, but she had an important luncheon to attend. Poor thing, she’s so busy. I offered to stay back a day or two and use my resources to find you. I heard those soldiers at the roadblock talking about the girl with the fake tag. You’re clever Clarke.” Grimshaw dropped his hand to his side. “We should get going. If we leave now, we can be home by this afternoon.”

“I’m not going with you,” insisted Clarke.

“I don’t think you mean that. You want to come with me,” Grimshaw said.

Clarke felt light headed and confused. Did she want to go with him? Maybe…but there was a reason to stay, wasn’t there?

Grimshaw lifted his head and looked towards the kitchen. “I think we have a visitor. Why don’t you go upstairs and pack a few things, and I’ll take care of our friend.”

“Okay.” Clarke didn’t want to leave. She wanted to see who else was there, but she couldn’t stop her feet from moving. She walked up the stairs and into her room. She stood there for moment, feeling as if she forgot something. Why had she come up here? Slowly, her brain fog lifted. What’s going on? She had no intention of going with Grimshaw. She had to get out.

She locked the door behind her, retrieved the locket from her drawer, and put it around her neck. Then she ran to the window and lifted the blinds. She pushed at the window, forcing it up as far as it would go. It would be tight, but she should be able to squeeze through.

Clarke stomach flipped when she looked at the sloped roof. She would have to shimmy down without gaining too much momentum, and then grab the gutter without falling. If she could hang on long enough, she could swing her legs over the side, and drop to the ground, hopefully without breaking anything.

She slipped through the opening feet first. The lower half of her body was out when the locket caught on the corner of the windowsill. She tried to free it but couldn’t, so she lifted the chain up around her head. The extra slack freed the locket from the sill. She gripped the necklace tight, planning to resume her escape, when she heard a loud pop. “What was that?” Was someone downstairs with Grimshaw? She couldn’t remember. What if Micah was down there? She had to go back.

Clarke tried to climb back in, but as she did, the locket fell from her hand and slid halfway down the roof. “Oh no!” She quickly pushed her head out the window. She held onto the ledge with one hand and reached for the locket with the other. After a couple of tries, she was able to grab it.

She heard another pop. “Oh God…. Was that a gun? I think that was a gun. Micah?” She pulled herself up towards the window and tossed the locket through the opening. Once she was back inside, she picked up the locket and hurried out the door. She ran down the hallway towards the stairs, hoping that Micah had shot Grimshaw and not the other way around.

*****

As Thomas walked up to Clarke’s house, he could see that the lights were on. Not knowing who was inside, he decided to do a little recon before entering. Thomas walked around the house trying to see into the windows, but they were too high off the ground. Luckily, when he reached the back of the house, he had a clear view into the kitchen and part of the hallway. He could see Grimshaw and half of a much smaller person, a girl with long hair, probably Clarke.

Thomas pulled the key out of his pocket and unlocked the door. A bead of sweat dripped off his nose as he slipped into the kitchen. He could hear their voices but couldn’t make out what they were saying. He tried to get as close as he could get without being detected.

The second person was definitely Clarke. Grimshaw wanted her to go back to Washington with him. A lump formed in Thomas’s throat. He couldn’t let that happen. He had to do something.