Limbo

RACHEL:

Things are a bit better here now that the guys are here. I still can't get anyone to see or hear me, but it's definitely livelier now, and not so lonely, at least in the evenings when they come back from the studio. Even if I can't participate in the conversation, it's still nice to have people around after being alone for so long.

I've been keeping an eye on their rooms and stuff for them the last few days, making sure that things don't get lost or broken, and even though they've commented on things, everyone but Jinxx seems determined to come up with a "logical" explanation. But I guess I can't blame them, I'd probably be the same way if things were reversed.

I've been hanging out in the living room for the last hour or so, watching Susan work on some needlepoint. I always liked to sew, and I learned how to do some embroidery at the place I worked before I died, but it's interesting to watch a different process. As I watch her fasten off the yarn and switch to a new color, the door opens and the guys come trooping in. They had said that they were planning to stay late in the studio today, so we're both kind of surprised to see them now.

Susan mentions this, reminding them that they expected them to be late, and Bob says something about a squirrel changing their plans, which sounds kind of weird. Charlie comes in from the kitchen, says that he and Susan were going out to dinner, and suggests that everyone come along, and they all seem pretty enthused about the idea, especially Ashley. Apparently, from what they've said, someone has built a restaurant where the old farmhouse used to be, which may be good, I guess. At least that might make things a bit easier on everyone else around here, since they won't have to look at the place every time they go by, and think about what happened.

So they all head upstairs to get ready, while Charlie and Susan go to their room to change. After about thirty minutes or so, they start meandering back downstairs, and then everybody leaves the house, and starts walking up the road. After they're gone, I go upstairs to make sure that no one left anything plugged up or anything, and when I go to Ashley's room, I notice a pad of paper on the desk. I go over to look at it, and see that it's a sketchbook, where he's been drawing what look like clothing designs, and as I flip through the pages, I realize that he's actually a very talented designer.

I look through a few more pages, seeing several things that I would definitely wear if I still could, and then I hear a noise downstairs. I notice that he's left his phone on the bed, and I bring up the display, only to see that they've been gone just a little more than ten minutes. Since I actually saw Charlie make a call earlier to confirm that the restaurant was open tonight, I know they shouldn't be back this quick, so I head back downstairs to see what's going on.

Going down to the living room, I figure out that the sounds are coming from the kitchen, and when I peek around the door, I see a strange guy rummaging through the cabinets. Realizing that there's no way he wouldn't notice if the wall phone suddenly "floats" in midair, I dash to Charlie and Susan's room and dial the emergency number from their phone, knowing that even if nobody says anything, they have to come out and check things out. For good measure, I go up and call from Ashley's phone as well, and nearly panic when I see him coming up onto the back porch. Since I know which windows can be seen from where the restaurant is, I zip through Andy, CC, and Bob's rooms and turn on all the lights, then go back downstairs.

But when I get back to the kitchen, I realize that this isn't just some random burglary, because the first guy has been joined by someone that I do recognize, one of my fathers flunkies named Terry Becker, and Ashley is struggling with both of them, with the phone cord wrapped tightly around his neck. Looking around, I see the knife block on the corner shelf, and a chunk of quartz crystal about the size of a football in the windowsill. I grab that in one hand and a carving knife in the other, coming up behind Terry and jabbing the knife into his back, next to his shoulderblade. Then I fling the rock at the other guy, and yell, "Let go of him, you worthless sonofabitch!"

The rock bounces off the side of his head, and they let go of Ashley, who slumps to the floor, almost like he's boneless. They both look startled, and Terry is trying to reach the knife in his back, but they take off out the back door when I start hurling kitchenware at them, actually bloodying Terry's nose with a meat mallet, and stabbing the other guy in the leg with a salad fork.

Then I look down and see that Ashley isn't moving, and I still don't hear any sirens. I drop down next to him, and even though I know he can't hear me, I keep telling him, "Please don't die, Ashley. Just hang on, someone will be here soon, and you'll be okay. Just don't die, you don't want to die, it's horrible and lonely and awful..."

Then, just as I realize that I'm babbling, I hear the front door open, then Andy's voice practically bellowing, "Holy shit, somebody fucking call 911, right the fuck now!"

*****************************************************************************

JINXX:

We get to the cafe just a couple of minutes after Ash heads back for his phone, and find out that we're actually fifteen minutes early for the start of dinner service, so we all go hang out by the retaining wall at the edge of the parking lot to wait. We're all sitting along the wall chatting, discussing what everyone is going to order, when CC pops up to his feet with a rather confused look on his face.

"Check that out, guys," he says, pointing toward the house. "I know I turned my light off before I left, what about you guys?"

As we all look to see that the lights in all of the front bedrooms are on, Andy and Bob both insist that they shut theirs off, too. "Maybe Ashley did it as some sort of prank," Susan offers, but Charlie shakes his head.

"No, he's just now heading up to the porch," he says. "There's no way he's playing tricks. If everyone actually shut their lights off, somebody else is in the house. I'm gonna go back and check it out."

This worries the rest of us enough to go along, so we start trooping back down the road, moving a little faster than we did on the way down. We lose sight of the house for a minute as we climb a small hill, but when we get to the top, we're actually close enough to see something come flying through one of the side windows, spraying glass out into the yard.

We all break into a run, but Andy and Charlie outdistance the rest of us pretty quickly, since they both have longer legs. Then, when a small pickup truck with two people inside comes roaring out from behind the house, going almost fast enough to take flight, they go even faster. By the time we get to the porch, they're already inside, and my heart almost stops when Andy yells, "Holy shit, somebody fucking call 911, right the fuck now!"

Bob whips out his phone and the rest of us bolt inside, finding Andy and Charlie kneeling on the floor doing CPR on Ash, who has bruises and marks on his neck, and doesn't seem to be breathing. Susan lets out a shriek, and I hear CC say, "Oh, Jesus, no! Oh, fuck!"

It almost seems like time has stopped, and it feels like they're doing the compressions for hours before Charlie finally says, "I've got a pulse!" I slump against the counter, because my knees feel like they're about to give out, and notice for the first time that it's covered with silverware and other stuff, and the whole room looks like it's been hit by an earthquake.

Jake, who's standing next to me, looks around and sort of mumbles, "Damn, he puts up one hell of a fight, doesn't he?" Then he sort of leans toward them and says, "Andy, check that out, by your foot. Is that blood?"

He turns his head, and says, "Yeah, I think so. But as far as I can tell, he's not bleeding, so he apparently got at least one good shot in on one of the bastards."

I finally hear sirens coming down the road, and say, "That's pretty quick, I guess, since you just called them a couple of minutes ago."

"Yeah, weird thing about that," Bob replies. "When I called, the dispatcher told me that they'd already gotten calls from here. Two of them, from different numbers, to be exact."

This doesn't make a lot of sense, but before anyone can come up with a response, another voice comes from the back door, saying, "Yeah, we sure as hell did, as if you didn't already know that."

Notes