Nightingale

Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Old Ghosts

My line of vision had narrowed to the point where all I could see were the tiny, charred shoes. I was in shock. I hadn't realized until that very instant everything else around me was blacked out. The roaring in my ears was so deafening I couldn't hear anything but my racing heart. It was too late now. Jake was dead; I knew it. He was the key to it all, and he would take the answer to his grave. I sat on the grass with my eyes shut tight. I ground my fists against my temples, trying to erase the image of his dead eyes staring back at me. As I rocked back and forth, I came to the realization that now it was too late for me, too. My night, the night that haunted my dreams, was the only one I hadn't lived yet. It was only a matter of time.

"Sam! Open your eyes, Sam!" Michael's voice broke through the roar. I opened them to face him and Eddie. "Are you okay, baby?"

Tears overflowed and rolled down my cheeks. "No!" I wailed as he gathered me into his arms.

"Shhh, it's okay," Michael soothed as he brought me to my feet. "I won't let him hurt you. I swear!"

"That's right," Eddie chimed in and patted my arm. "We'll have him behind bars before the sun goes down."

Infuriated, I pushed away from them both. "I told you. It's not him! Don't you get it? He knew who was after me. He tried to warn me. This was the last clue," I said and looked at the tiny shoes I held in my hands. "Now, it's too late for both of us."

Michael and Eddie looked at each other with bewilderment and then at me. "Calm down. How do you know it wasn't him? It seems like he wanted you to know it was," Michael said and pointed at my hand.

"What makes you think that?" I asked with a mixture of confusion and irritation.

"You said the discussion the two of you had the night he went off the deep end was regarding children...or rather the fact you didn't want any. Looks to me like it pissed him off more than you thought. He obviously took it personally. Jake knew he would never have a family with you. It's why he burned the wedding pictures and those baby shoes on your living room floor. Makes sense to me."

I rolled my eyes and took a deep breath. "Jake didn't do it, Michael. He tried to tell me something; he tried to warn me," I explained. I stared at the charred shoes, willing them to give me the answer I needed. "I just can't figure it out!"

"What do you mean he tried to warn you?" Eddie asked with confusion. "You said you haven't talked to him since the night I arrested him at your house. What are you not telling us?"

I inhaled sharply. I guess there isn't any other way to tell them other than coming right out and saying it. Here goes. "I don't really know where to start, so please hear me out, okay? I dream things before they happen. At least, I have been for the past six months. Someone is going to kill me, and it's going to happen soon. I usually only remember bits and pieces of the dreams, vague clues. Actually, they're more like movie previews. Unfortunately for me, it's a horror movie. For the last half-year, I've been dreaming about the night that someone runs me down with a car in the parking garage of the hospital. More recently, I've had little previews of what I can only assume were intros to the main event," I squared my shoulders and held up the shoes. "This was the only intro I had left." I stood waiting impatiently for a response. Michael and Eddie stared at me like I was from another planet. "Well?"

Michael cleared his throat. "I think you've been through an awful lot these past few months. Most likely, the nightmares are stemming from a mild form of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder."

I crossed my arms and glared at him. "PTSD? You have got to be fucking kidding me!"

"Now listen," he said in his clinical voice. "The nightmares started when Jake beat the hell out of you, right? Did you go to the ER and get checked?"