19A/N: Hello loyal readers. Thank you for sticking with me. I hope the last few chapters made it worth the journey. For those of you who reviewed the last chapter, kudos for your suspicions about the Freak. I hope it was a satisfying turn of events for you. Thank you to everyone who has reviewed this story so far. Chapter 25 is dedicated to all of you. And Anna, I really appreciate your review. The rarity of it, combined with your words made it truly an honor to receive.
Oh, and there will be an epilogue after this chapter.
Chapter Twenty-five
I never liked hospitals. The sterility of the environment, all florescent lighting and linoleum floors, looked and felt unnatural to me. The beeps and whirrs of the latest medical gadgets that took one's vitals at timed intervals; the smell of antiseptic cleaners used on the furniture and bedding; and the bed itself – good grief – I think the twin bed in my old room met its match for discomfort. All these things made me ill at ease.
The last time I had been admitted into a hospital as a patient, I was seven years old and had tonsillitis so bad that I couldn't breathe. My condition had worried my mother so much that she nearly had to be admitted into the bed beside mine. But I hadn't been a patient since.
I had been in the hospital as a visitor twice, though. The day before Aunt Mimmsy died, I came to say my goodbyes (she didn't recognize who I was, which broke my heart a little bit), and the time before that was when Laura had been in the hospital to have her appendix removed.
Never in my wildest dreams would I have thought I'd wake up this morning in my childhood home, and go to sleep in a hospital bed. Oh, the injuries hadn't seemed that bad – well, at least not beyond excruciatingly painful, but here I was. The lacerations that covered much of my body weren't the cause of my admittance. Even the gouge to my upper abdomen from when I jumped through the window hadn't called for more than some stitches thanks to my sturdy rib cage. It wasn't the fall from the vent, either, though, it fractured my radius bone at the elbow. The injury that triggered my hospital stay was the punch to the gut that I received for making my rescuer aware of my whereabouts. Apparently, it caused significant bruising to more than one organ; and since, I could feel the pain that proved the injury, I allowed them to keep me here.
Perhaps, the emotional bruising had a little to do with it, too. I had to fight hard against my instincts to allow the paramedics and firefighters to help me after my conflict with Kain. They were so kind, so attentive and caring, but they were men, and the very masculinity they possessed put me on edge. Overseen by them, the ride to the hospital in Elkswood seemed longer than the fifty-five mile drive should have, even with the ambulance sirens bellowing to clear the way.
The female doctor in the emergency room calmed me down when I arrived. She gave me hydrocodone (I think it was), and everything went fuzzy and vague. In fact, I think time may have sped up after that, because the next thing I knew, I was in a hospital room surrounded by my family. Mom and dad were there. Even Lil managed to stand in the room with a look of concern on her face. Could that concern really be for me? And Jacob, he finally looked me in the eyes, though, perhaps, it was because he was amused that the medication made his aunt loopy.
The police wanted to question me on the incident that led up to the crime scene in the Brickerton High School auditorium, but my doctor told them that it would probably be a better idea to get it from me when I was more lucid. I was glad. I wasn't ready to relive the encounter yet.
My family must have left after I dozed off, because when I awoke it was dark and I was alone. Or I thought I was alone. Turning my head (slowly, because the medication gave me a bit of a hang over), I found a figure in the lounge chair beside my bed.
The person's head was in his hands as he propped himself forward, elbows on his lap. Was he sleeping? Waiting? Tormenting himself?
"Hi," I murmured to get his attention.
The Freak looked up. He wore a big black winter coat that hid his tattoos. His eyebrows furrowed, making it obvious that he felt worried. I smiled at my hero.
"Hey," he smiled back, relief evident before he re-mastered his expression.
"What are you doing here?" I asked. "Is it still visiting hours?"
"No," he replied, "No, I work here. My shift starts in about an hour." I must have looked at him funny, because he abated my curiosity. "I'm a nurse here."
"You're a nurse?" That seemed like the oddest profession I could ever have imagined for the Freak.
"Yes," he grinned. "And believe it or not, I like my job."
Okay, I justified to myself, there was probably a lot of blood and gore involved in the field of nursing. Maybe I could see him in such a career.
"But, I thought . . . Weren't you at the gas station the other day?" I probed, confusion and curiosity on my face.
"That's my dad's station," he said. "I picked up a few shifts during the holiday weekend to help him out."
"Oh," I knew the question that really burned in me, but I felt too afraid to ask it.
"So, you okay?" he asked.
"Yeah," I smiled, "thanks to you."
"I'm glad. I was worried about you," he said, casting his eyes to the ground. Was that a look of embarrassment he tried to hide?
"Why," I finally asked. "Why were you worried about me?"
He inhaled what must have been meant to be a calming breath. Not looking away from wherever his eyes were focused to on the floor, he responded, "I liked you, Claire. Back in high school. You were the only girl who didn't cringe from me. I liked you from the moment you corrected me about Mayans and Aztecs and ritual sacrifices. You didn't get squeamish and wig out like any of the other girls would have. You kind of stood up to me. I admired that."
Did I just hear him correctly? I viewed him as my tormentor for so long, and he actually had a – well, kind of a, - like a thing for me?
"I remember how you made art class feel. I really liked that class when you were in it. I looked forward to it. Until you left."
And I had thought that he was my bane in that class. Oh, I felt so guilty for hating him the way I did then.
"Obviously, I wasn't very good at expressing myself. But I only ever wanted to protect you back then; and I tried to protect you today. I think you did most of the work yourself, though. Very impressive, by the way. You kicked his ass." He smiled at me.
I tried to smile back, but didn't really want to recall the particulars of today's incident.
"But how did you know?" I asked. "How did you know I was in trouble? And how did you know where to find me?"
"Ah, well," he seemed to struggle for words, "I saw you at the gas station yesterday. I was a little surprised to see you, and sort of . . . embarrassed." He looked at me and quickly added, " I wasn't exactly expecting you, so I got a little flustered, you know?
"I kicked myself for letting you walk out without at least . . ." He blushed. The Freak actually blushed.
Since, I was having trouble taking all of this unexpected information in, I waited for him to continue. He didn't leave me hanging long.
"Anyways," he glossed over whatever it was he had almost said. "When I stopped by the diner to pick up my lunch, I saw you with Kain. My protective instincts fired up all over again. I don't know why the Murphy brothers both took an interest in you – well, I mean I do know why. I mean, it's just – anyways," The Freak was rambling. I'd never known him to be lost for words. He had always been a man of few words, but they had never seemed fail him before.
"I knew Kain was bad news, so I listened in and caught part of your conversation. He mentioned a picnic at the Giant's Grave. I knew that place. I used to go there to smoke p. . . – anyways. Ah, I thought I'd sneak up there and check in on you. You know, without you knowing.
"So, I hiked up there. I saw your picnic set up, and a fire that was still going in the pit, but you weren't there. I put the fire out before it could spread, but I just got a little . . . agitated. You weren't anywhere around. I told myself you just went for a walk or something, but I how could I be satisfied 'til I saw you? You know, so I could make sure you were alright." He looked back down at the floor again, and continued.
"I'm not exactly much of a tracker, so it took a little while before I ended up going in the right direction. I saw the broken glass at the back door of the high school, and got a little suspicious. And when I went in, I figured it out. I knew what was happening. That's when I pulled the fire alarm."
"I can't tell you how grateful I am that you did," my eyes started to well up. I had my life thanks to his suspicion and his deed.
He smiled at me, and I knew he would have done even more for me if he could. The idea that the Freak became my savior felt so surreal. If he hadn't pulled that alarm, if he hadn't come to check up on me, my mind would have left my body when Kain finally took me and it would not have been able to return.
"How did you know what Kain was capable of?" I wanted to understand it all. There was so much to take in.
"I suspected Kain a long time ago of doing something horrible to a little girl in my neighborhood. You remember the girl that went missing? She lived down the street from me. Well, I'd seen Kain prowling about the outskirts of her yard once or twice over the summer before she was kidnapped. For some reason, warning bells went off in my head the moment I heard she went missing.
"A week or so later, when I was heading through the high school woods late at night – I was meeting some friends for a . . . smoke – I caught a glimpse of Kain and Corry creeping down a path. They had a shovel and a pick, and they were whispering. Arguing, I think. I knew for sure, then. Kain had something to do with that girl, and Corry was involved."
He paused and I pondered. When I spoke, I asked, "why didn't you go to the authorities if you knew Kain had done it?"
"What proof did I have? I knew I was the local Freak. Who would believe such a wild story from me? I looked for the proof, though. I searched all over those woods, but I couldn't find a damn thing. For a while, I thought I was just crazy. I'd seen Corry before and after that night. I knew a bit about him from art class. He wasn't the type. I figured I was just getting carried away with my imagination.
"Of course, then, I provoked him with that article, and I prodded him about the case a couple of times. The way he reacted, I knew I wasn't crazy, after all.
"But Corry started looking at you. He talked to you and walked down the hall with you, he even began sitting at your lunch table. I got worried. What if you were next?"
No, I thought. He had Corry all wrong. So, I told him what Kain confessed to me, about what he'd done to the girl, and about Corry: how he forced his brother to help get rid of the girl's body and then killed him and made it look like a suicide. The Freak looked about as grieved by the knowledge as I felt. Corry had been a victim almost as much as Leslie.
"I know where's she's buried, " I said, at last. "Corry left a clue in his drawing. I haven't had a chance to tell the police yet." I wondered how the Freak felt about being a part of this. "What do you want me to say to them about you?"
"Tell them everything," he replied. "I have nothing to hide. I felt bad that I couldn't prove my suspicions back in high school, but now you have all the proof we need. This is our chance to make everything right."
Yes, it was, wasn't it?