Night Drifters: The Knight

Chapter 14: Lightning Storm

Chapter 14

Why hadn’t I answered? What was I doing that made me so busy as not to even check who might’ve contacted me?

I swallowed hard, looking at the last time he called.

Yesterday at 7:53 p.m.

That was when I had been driving back from the mall. There was something odd about the pattern in which he had called. All of the times read 1:15 a.m., 12:05 a.m., 11:45 p.m.

They were all indicating night times. He calls at night.

I had the strongest urge to call him back. To find out where he was at this exact moment and rescue him.

But I stopped myself.

I had to think this through. What if he’s been doing his calling in secret, though I know, without a doubt, is probably true. What if I call at a bad time and his captor takes his only lifeline away? Then yet a bigger question.

Why had he called me?

Me of all people? Why not the police or his mom?

Was Carson the one who has been trying to reach me and I’m unable to listen?

Wait! Carson’s alive! I jumped up and down and smiled as the boy fixing the carnival ride gave me a weird stare.

Or . . .maybe he isn’t and his captor has been playing with his contacts. Yet, would they call the same person over and over again? Maybe the one who is holding Carson hostage is my stalker. I’d have to ask everybody if they got a call from him too.

No, I couldn’t. They can’t know. The three people I trust the most in the whole entire universe and I have to keep a secret from them.

As much as I didn’t want to do it I put my phone back in my pocket.

All I knew was that if he called again . . .

I would answer.

..................................

The following Thursday I felt sick from head to toe. My head ached, my throat was swollen and no matter how many blankets were on top of me I wasn’t ever warm enough.

“Oh dear, looks like someone needs to pay a visit to the doctor.” Said Rita, placing a hand on my forehead. “Sweet baby Jesus, you’re burning up, jellybean.”

I sniffled and coughed in return. “Ugh . . .I feel like I’m dying.” My voice sounded like thick molasses as it streamed out.

“Possibly the E.R.” My dad replied. “Danny, you want me to stay home with you, today?”

This might have been the first time he offered that suggestion. “-Cause you know I have Judy on speed dial.”

Judy being his personal assistant.

“Nah . . .” I pushed at him, “you go bring home the bacon. I’ll survive.” Then I added more to myself, “One way or another . . .”

“Alright, hon, but if Rita calls me at lunch and gives me any bit of bad-“

“It’s fine, dad, really.” I sneezed into my elbow and fell back on to pillows.

“Mom will be out and in all day. I’ll have her check up on you as well.”

I nodded as he walked out the door.

Rita pulled out her cell phone and dialed a number, “Doctor Brown’s office.”

She was clearly on hold. “Rita, do I really need to go to the doctor?”

If there was a place I hated more than a spa. It was the doctor. It’s cold and it smells too clean. And you have that odd feeling that everything that can go wrong with you is wrong with you.