Seven

Chapter 8

Dumbfounded, Tim expected to catch Nicole Whelan or one of the other patients from Crestwood behind the building. However, there wasn't a single soul out there. Nobody. Not even the birds were out in the morning. 

The skies were beginning to lighten up a bit, and Tim was too tired to give chase or try to figure out how anyone could disappear so fast. "They must be hiding in the building. There's gotta be a trap door. I'm way too tired for this elementary bullshit," he said to himself as he prepared to drive the truck in reverse.

Stopping for a minute, Tim phoned the Red ward. "Hey, it's me, Petrazzi from the Blue ward, third shift. Can you do me a favor? Can you see if the girl in Room 346 is there? Yeah, thanks." He waited a few minutes. He new that the oncoming shift normally did room checks as part of their routine, so they'd know if anyone was missing or not.

The morning shift's nurse was on the phone. "Whelan? She's there. Is there a problem?" 

"No, I just needed confirmation. Thanks." He hung up. 

If Nicole Whelan was back at Crestwood, who the hell was out there playing games with him? It didn't make any sense to Tim, so he decided he'd head back home and get some sleep. Maybe the migraine from earlier was causing hallucinations and he needed to clear his mind. 

He started the truck and pulled out onto the road heading back towards the entrance to the Crestwood complex. It was 6:35 a.m., and Tim was glad that the skies began to lighten a bit. The fog was still out, but he just wanted out of the place, and if he had to drive a little slower to head back to Donnely, so be it.

The signs exiting Crestwood faded in the rear-view mirror and Tim ran a hand through his short, dirty blonde hair. He was tired, but he remembered he had an extra energy drink in his lunch sack, and drinking it would keep him awake for the next 45-minute drive back to town. He slowed down a bit, then reached over and fumbled in his sack, feeling for the drink. It slipped from his grip, and rolled to the front of the passenger side floor.

"Geez, you've gotta be kidding me," keeping one eye on the road, Tim tried to grab the cylinder can as he bent over the side to reach it. The can grazed his fingertips and he couldn't grab it. "Can a man get a break?" He looked down briefly to locate the drink. It rolled towards the door. 

"Forget it. Don't need you, anyway."

As he looked towards the road, a young girl suddenly appeared from the fog.

"Shit!" Tim turned the wheel towards the right shoulder and hit the brakes. The truck violently veered off to the side, but it was going too fast to stop completely. Tim couldn't avoid the trees and he crashed headlong into a thick group of sycamores. The impact nearly split the truck in half, and the sounds of crumpling metal screeching filled his ears, before the front and side airbags deployed. 

Tim's head lay on the side of the front airbag, and through the broken glass that had cut into his face, his eyes became unfocused and he stared at the girl who walked closer to the car. Blood started trickling down his forehead. He slowly felt himself passing out. With eyes halfway closed, he saw the girl as she came closer.

She leaned towards Tim, bending her head slightly down to his level, and smiled, revealing small sharp white teeth.

"Seven."

Tim's eyes rolled to the back of his head and he blacked out. The last thing he heard was a childish giggle, then silence.