These Streaks of Blood

17

Patty stirs in her sleep. Why is she so cold?

She opens her eyes and freezes in terror when she sees her window open. That was definitely closed and locked, as tight as it would go, before she laid down for bed. Normally she'd think that she merely forgot, but not now, with a killer on the loose. No; someone must have opened it.

She kicks her legs over the side of her bed quietly, not to head over to the window, but to rush to her parents' room, tell them that she thinks someone is in the house.

The floor feels even colder than the air. She practically hops in place, not wanting her bare feet to be touching the wood floor for too long. She runs towards her door, a horrible image of someone leaping at her from under her bed in her head. It's already open; thank God she can't sleep without the hall light shining into her room. She's almost at the threshold--

And the door slams shut.

Patty wraps her arms around herself in fear, whipping around, looking everywhere. She doesn't see anyone in her room, but someone pushed the door closed. Or maybe it was just the wind...

"Hey, Patty."

Patty gasps in alarm and disbelief. She'd know that voice anywhere, especially after thinking about it so often lately. "Natalee?" she calls out quietly.

The window slides closed and Patty's best friend walks closer to her. How had she not noticed her before? After assuring that it's really Natalee, not a trick, Patty can't stop herself; she launches herself at her friend, constricting her in a tight hug.

"Oh my God, Nat..." she murmurs into her shoulder. She strengthens her grip, still not quite believing that Natalee is here, in her room, after everything that's happened.

Natalee doesn't return the hug, but rather seems to turn very stiff. "Patty, please, let go of me," she says, and Patty instantly releases her and steps back.

"Natalee, what's going on? Why--?"

Natalee holds up a hand, stopping her friend mid-speech. "I don't have time. I wanted to ask you for a favor."

Patty's confusion is palpable. "A favor? Anything, Nat, you know that, but--"

"Good. I need to stay in your basement. Just for the night. And I need you to make sure nobody goes down there until I'm gone," Natalee says hurriedly, her eyes flicking to the window and back to her friend in quick succession.

Patty opens her mouth, then closes it, then opens it again. "My basement? But, why? Natalee, I don't understand--"

Natalee's patience seems to break. "He knows where I live, Patty, it'll be the first place he checks. Now, please, will you be able to keep everyone away from me, or not?" she demands.

Most of Patty's confusion dissipates. Natalee must have escaped her captor's clutches - for the second time? - and is now hoping to hide. Patty's house is familiar, but not so much so that the killer might make the connection that it's where Natalee would go. Of course, he'd probably first assume she'd visit her house, or the police station, or the hospital...

"If you really need me to, of course I can. But Nat, you know you're welcome to stay in my room, or the family room--"

"No. Your family can't see me, what part of that do you not understand?" Natalee snaps at her, her gaze cold, and Patty flinches and instinctively rubs her arms to keep herself warm. Gosh, this room is freezing, she thinks to herself.

"Okay, I get it," she mumbles, even though she doesn't. She knows she should try to get Natalee help, and that she shouldn't so easily give in to this strange request... but it's so hard to deny her best friend; it always has been, but right now more than ever.