Page 35 of Save You

By the time I reach the bottom floor, I abruptly come to with a rush of adrenaline that has me able to distinguish between words again. We race out to one of his cars which is much faster and more powerful than the little black Honda I had arrived in. We don’t even pretend to hide from anyone who may be watching us. He’s already there, with Beth!

As soon as we hit the beaten track that leads up to the cabin, I sit bolt upright, remembering all the twists and turns that I’ve driven past dozens of times, always safe in the knowledge that Beth was tucked up inside. Now I’m filled with nothing but dread and a need to be violently sick. We’ve tried to keep in contact with Carol, but after the halfway mark back here, we were no longer able to get hold of her. Since then, panic has built up to a crescendo within my body and I am no longer able to speak without hyperventilating.

Eventually, we pull up to the solitary wooden building, now looking a lot less friendly and comforting than it did before. The moon is full, ominous, and shining over the branches of trees in the background. It’s almost laughable how much this place looks like the backdrop to some straight-to-TV horror flick, but any form of mirth is a million miles away from my mind right now. Now, I only feel gut-wrenching fear of what I’m about to find on the other side of that door.

Stephen silently motions for me to follow behind him as soon as we exit the car. He looks like a professional spy with a handgun held out before him. He leads us up toward the porch where a solitary light is switched on above the porch. Otherwise, the whole structure is sitting in darkness, which tells me this is going to be every bit as bad as I have been dreading.

At first, he knocks on the door, the sound of which is as loud as my heart drumming between my ears, but there’s no answer. He puts his hand back toward me, telling me to wait while he slowly reaches out to clasp his fingers around the metal doorknob. I hold in a breath when he tentatively turns it until we both hear the click of the mechanism pulling back. He then gradually pushes it open, casting light over the wooden floorboards of the hallway.

Silence.

Stephen steps to the side, casting a long shadow over the living room floor in front of us, right before we hear a loud sigh and distinctive sob from the back of someone’s throat. Stephen puts his hand out before me again, but I can no longer stand the suspense. I bite my lip before calling out into the darkness, “Beth?”

Stephen automatically raises the gun out before him, ready to shoot any of Lawrence’s men, but when we hear Carol’s sad, beaten, voice, he drops it low, and we begin rushing toward her.

“Xander? Stephen?” she sobs, her voice betraying how long she must have been crying for. “Please, God, say that it’s you!”

It’s enough to have me pushing Stephen aside to press the light switch to my left, casting bright, revealing lights all over the small living space before us. Initially, all I can see is Carol, slumped on the navy sofa, looking awful. Her eyes are swollen, red, and bloodshot, and her skin is clammy and dirty with something dark red and cracked, like the bottom of a dried-out lake. When I focus on her again, I realize it is blood smeared across her cheek. I take in an audible breath, already knowing whose blood that is.

“Holy shit!” Stephen gasps, now looking all around him.

I instantly look over to where his gaze has fallen and notice streaks of old blood across the floor, making the place look like a murder scene. As I follow one streak, it leads onto another, and, pretty soon, I’m falling to the floor with my hands clasped over my mouth.

“I’m so sorry,” Carol cries into her hands, which are trembling so hard, her entire body is shuddering against the fabric of the sofa.

My uncle runs over to grip hold of her, offering her comfort because I can’t do anything but fall apart on the floor.

“Tell me,” I finally choke out in a voice I don’t even recognize, “please, tell me!”

At first, Carol just shakes her head, leaning into Stephen’s embrace, as if trying to get some extra courage from somewhere.

“Beth…Beth didn’t make it, Xander,” she sobs, breaking a little at the end of her words that deliver the final blow of the knife that’s cutting through my heart. “They tried, they really tried, but she lost too much blood. She had placenta previa, something they would have picked up on a scan, but it was too late. I’m so sorry!”

“Fuck, no!” I scream so loudly, they both jump as I slip even further onto the hardwood beneath me, feeling like it is the only barrier between here and the hell I’m falling into. Stephen is almost instantly at my side, whimpering as he tries to be strong for the both of us.

“No, Xander, not you too,” he cries, “my poor boy, I’m so sorry!” He holds me tightly as I begin to fall into dark and desperate thoughts of where my girl is now.

“Where is she?” I ask quietly on the intake of a large breath. She doesn’t respond at first, just looks at me with fear and pity. “Carol, where is her body? At the hospital?” She shakes her head slowly, and in movements that are so slight, you could almost miss them.

“He took her body, Xander,” she whispers, “Oliver Lawrence took her away. He said to tell you that she was always his, so he will be the one to bury her.”

I should be angry. I will be angry, but right now, I can’t even comprehend what she’s just said, or the level of my own grief over losing the love of my life. It will all come, though -the anger, guilt, hurt, all of it. When it does, I’m not convinced I’ll survive it.

The room is filled only with crying, mine being the most audible of all, but eventually my energy burns out, and I am left in a stunned sort of silence while my mind falls blank. It feels like my brain is no longer able to work out which way to turn, so has switched onto standby. It almost doesn’t register the sudden sound of a baby screaming; a new-born baby wanting to find its mother. Its cry quickly fills the space of the cabin and snaps us out of our lost thoughts.

“Wh-what? Who?” my uncle begins before shaking his head as if to clear the sound of insanity away. “Wait…is that…?”

Carol gasps, then rushes to her feet before heading straight into the bedroom, only to return with a small bundle of white cellular blankets. She carries the parcel with care and warmth, rocking it from side to side until eventually, the crying ceases altogether. I jump to my feet with a look of shock that most likely conveys how fucked up I’m feeling over all of this, staring at Carol and this little, noisy pile of blankets with dizziness I haven’t ever experienced before.

Carol barely even looks at me before slowly edging forward until we’re eventually head-to-head. In her arms, is a tiny, red face with puffy eyes and a small hand reaching out for someone who’s not here, Beth. I glance back to Carol, still looking like a gormlessly lost rabbit blinded by lights in the road, when she offers me a hint of a smile.

“Xander,” she all but whispers, “this is your daughter, yours and Beth’s.”

She pushes the bundle toward me, and I instinctively take it from her, even though I feel awkward and beyond unprepared for this. I then look down into the tiny life that is part me, part Beth, and feel new tears flooding my eyes. My first whimper erupts from my mouth when I take in the poor little girl who is now without a mother.

“Hey, Rosalie,” I murmur, “I’m your daddy.”

The baby doesn’t move, just closes her eyes, and falls back to sleep. I feel my uncle press his hand into my back, still sucking in sobs as he whimpers over my new, tragic situation.

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