Dark Escape

Chapter 2

Tara snuggled deep into the mound of pillows piled beneath her back to keep her torso elevated. She was released from the hospital that morning and it was wonderful to be home. Her mother's sister, Eva, gripped a bed tray as she entered the room. She'd traveled from South Carolina as soon as she learned of the accident. Tara's stomach responded with a loud rumble to the aroma of the homemade chicken soup and freshly baked rolls on the tray Eva balanced with care. She giggled as she watched her aunt struggle with the heavily laden tray.

"You're spilling my salvation," Tara teased. "You never were good with carrying trays. It's no wonder they fired you from that waitress job."

"Pick on me and I'll send you back to the hospital," Eva teased back. Her big doe-like eyes twinkled with delight.

"No, anything but that," Tara feigned despair.

Eva gently placed the bed tray across her niece's lap and then busied herself by patting more fluff into her pillows to provide more support for her back. Tara watched her fondly as she bustled about the room opening windows, shifting draperies, and picking up loose clothing.

"I felt a little breeze in my room last night, even though the windows were closed. It's warm now, but I think you should tend to it before the winter months come," Eva said. She reached forward and patted Tara's knee, "We'll focus on that when you're well again. I need to go fix dinner. Dennis is like a bear if he doesn't have a full belly."

Tara knew Dennis would be anything but a bear if there was no dinner, but feeling needed like that seemed to comfort her childless aunt; so, she said nothing. A successful writer, Eva often imposed the traits of her characters onto her companions. The siblings lovingly tolerated Eva's eccentricities -that apparently ran on both sides of the family in one form or another.

"How's your novel coming?" Tara asked quietly between spoonfuls of the delicious soup. "What's it about? I can't remember."

"The novel's coming along fine," Eva replied proudly. "In fact, it's almost done. You can't remember what it's about because I didn't tell you, but nice try."

Tara heaved an impatient sigh and dove into her fare with exaggerated gusto. She hated secrets. Eva consistently refused to divulge the theme of her novels until they were in print. Her way of making it up to her niece and nephew was to present them with autographed first editions. Tara couldn't understand where Eva came from with her superstitions. Just once she'd like to be able to know the plot before the world did.

"If you need anything before I get back, I placed a small bell on the night stand. It's cute, right?" Eva chuckled as she finished loading her arms with laundry and headed for the door.

Her chuckling shifted to sweet singing as she made her way down the once majestic stairway with her bundle.

Tara was dipping the last of the rolls as a sponge to absorb the remains of the chicken broth when she felt that all too familiar cold on the right side of her body. When she turned toward the window she caught a flash in the corner of her eye. She sat still, barely breathing. The same man who appeared the day before her accident was standing at the foot of her bed. He stood completely still, watching her; simply watching her.

"Who are you?" Tara said, breaking the silence.

The old man stood silent and motionless.

"What do you want?" she persisted. "Where did you come from?"

The harshness of Tara's whisper hinted at the panic she felt as the man continued to stare. Who was he? How did he get into her room? Was he a thief, a rapist, a murderer? She scrambled for the little bell on the night stand and swung it wildly. When she checked to see the man's response, he was gone.