#Wattys2015 The Ghost of James Fitzpatrick

Chapter 44

As she peddled down the empty highway, the next thought of her "no nonsense" father to come to mind was the gun he kept at home in his sock drawer. He showed her last year, "just in case" he had said.

She imagined her dad handing her the gun, 'Well Sarah, sweetie, I want you to know how to use it in case your school principal should ever go into a homicidal rage and try to kill you or your mother.'

She was certain her dad never saw this one coming.

The gun was a 9 millimeter, and Sarah had fired it four or five times at the indoor shooting range in Game Country Sporting Goods on the outskirts of Arden. Her father had insisted upon it. She was afraid of it, but did not confess this to him; and although she was afraid of it, she was also familiar enough with it to load the clip, get a round in the chamber, aim it, and shoot the thing.

The gun was in the left drawer with his socks, and the loaded clip was in the right with his underwear.

She needed to get home. She needed to warn her mom and Josh. She knew Zwicki was probably turning his car around in the drive and headed her way. He could easily beat her to her house if he knew the way, and Sarah had a feeling he knew where she lived.

She was far enough away that his car was out of sight behind her down the highway, but it was of crucial importance that she get off the long and narrow road that stretched before her. She knew her way around the back roads well enough to find her way home to Lilac Street.

Zwicki's sedan pulled quickly out onto the highway spitting gravel behind him. His distant headlights just missed Sarah as she took an abrupt, sharp right turn onto a narrow residential street, nearly spilling her bicycle.

Zwicki did not see her shortcut as his car past where she had turned. He slowed his speed and was straining to spot a girl on a pink bike, with a red box, peddling with all her might along the highway in the rain, but he could not find her out here.

He stared off onto each side of the road, first to his left, then to his right, and back to his left again. He felt his rage build and he calmed himself by smiling and nodding. He did not like to lose his temper.

He would meet her at her home, or meet her mother at her home, or her little brother, and if they were not home, he would wait for them, and it would be a tremendous pleasure killing them just to teach her a lesson.

That thought actually surprised him, and he realized the curiosity of another kill did not rest far below his surface.

When Sarah finally turned on to Lilac Street, the rain had let up and the street was quiet. She pulled quickly into the Netherby driveway, pulled the box from the handlebars and dropped her bike where she stood. She would be ahead of Zwicki. She would be the one waiting for him.

She headed up the steps that led to the to the  back door and Sarah noticed the house was uncharacteristically dark and quiet. It looked empty. She stepped quietly through the unlocked door into the kitchen.

She felt immense relief upon realizing her mom and Josh were not home; then had a second more dreadful thought. Maybe they were here, and maybe he was already with them.

Sarah flipped on the kitchen light and saw a note taped to the doorway leading into the living room, written in her mother's handwriting reserved for when she was angry. 

It read: Look at your phone, Sarah Jane! You're not answering your text, call me when you get in. We've gone to get your dad from the airport. Call me as soon as you get this!!!!!!! P.S. You're grounded unless you are in the hospital or dead."

Sarah breathed a sigh of relief. "I forgot you were going," she whispered to herself.

She set the box on the counter and grabbed the phone from the kitchen wall. She opted to call 911 before she called her mom, then she noticed a smear of blood on the linoleum floor, and her heart began to accelerate. In the deep, sharp angle of shadow behind the kitchen door, she made out his form. The water moccasin was waiting for the perfect second to strike and sink its fangs into an unsuspecting swimmer and he struck swiftly and painfully.

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