Invisible Killer

Chapter 1

It was a late night for Zack Allen. He was being held captive at the Lincoln Correctional Center in Lincoln, Nebraska. Zack was in his cell, lying on the metal bed, holding a picture of Rachelle Truman in his thumb and pointer finger.
One of the guards was walking by all of the prison cells, tapping the bars with his baton. "Lights out!" he announced. As soon as Zack heard the thonk on the metal bar, he turned off his light and fell to sleep.
Later on into the night, the same guard walked around to check the cells. He walked by Zack's cell and noticed a peculiar object that didn't look like a body. He immediately became suspicious and unlocked the cell door. He entered the room, approached the bed, and yanked the bed sheet from the bed. He saw two pillows propped up, but there was no sign of Zack Allen.
"Crisis!...," the guard mumbled to himself with fury. He threw the bed sheet down, pulled out his whistle, and huffed a mouth full of air into the little device.
The sound of the dieing whistle screeched through the building, and all of the workers realized that a search party for a missing prisoner had begun. The sirens were turned on, the lights were shining everywhere, and all of the exits were instantly blocked off. The search party for Zack Allen was underway.
While the whole staff at the prison was hunting for Zack, Zack was running for his life down the street. He ran as fast as his legs could carry him all the way into town. He panted as he was slowly running out of breath.
"I've got to keep moving," he huffed in a mumble. As he was running into town, he came across a dark shadow which looked like a female figure; it was heading for him.
"There he is; he's heading into town!" yelled one of the guards. They were catching up to him. Zack turned around and saw a squad of policemen following on his trail. "What the-!" he grunted.
As Zack headed further into town, he tripped over a rock and fell onto his stomach. Eventually, the police caught up to him and had him surrounded.
"Put your hands in the air and don't move," said one of the cops. Zack froze as his heart began to beat rapidly. "There's nowhere for you to run, Allen. If you come quietly, we might go easy on you."
Zack looked all around and realized that he was trapped with guns pointing in his direction. "I've got some business to take care of, and then I'll return..."
"That's not how it works," said the cop.
"I will complete my to-do list!" Zack pulled out his picture of Rachelle, tried to make an escape, and was immediately shot in the chest. Without a doubt, he fell onto his back in a pool of his own blood, slowly dieing.
"I told you that we'd go easy on you, but you left us no choice," said the cop, looking down on him. Zack laid on the ground, huffing out his last few breaths as he held the bullet hole in agony. "Let's move out!" All of the policemen heard the call and headed back to the correctional center.
After the police squad left the scene, the mysterious female figure approached the body. She got down on her knees and her eyes spotted a picture in Zack's palm. She picked it up, flipped it over, and saw the phrase, "Kill Rachelle Truman" written on it in a black Sharpie marker.
She perked her head up and mumbled, "Who's Rachelle Truman?" She glanced back down at the picture and saw a girl with brown hair and blue eyes, smiling. "I guess that I answered my own question."
"Don't worry, Zack. Rachelle Truman will be the next person to die. I'll make sure of it," she muttered as she looked down at the dead body. "Your proclamation will be fulfilled." The woman stuffed the picture down into her bra and made her way into town.
It was around two o' clock in the morning, and the young woman entered through the front door of the Carolina's Healthcare System. She approached the overnight worker at the front desk. The girl was very curious as to who was coming into the building this late at night.
"Welcome to the Carolina's Healthcare System! May I help you?" greeted the worker with confusion expressed in her pupils.
"Of course you can...," the woman began. She moved a tad closer to the desk. "I need to see Rachelle Truman's personal records."
"Did you say 'personal records'?" the worker repeated.
"Yes ma'am. I need to see Rachelle Truman's personal records."
"Are you relative?"
"Does it look like that I'm related to her?" She raised her voice a little. The worker was beginning to feel a little uneasy towards the customer's tone.
"Let's just say that I'm a long-lost friend of Rachelle Truman," said the customer with an envious grin.
The worker flashed the girl a perplexed expression. "I'm terribly sorry, ma'am. We don't give out someone's personal records to a random person. I'm afraid that I can't do that," said the worker in a gentle tone.
The customer laughed quite devious. The employer immediately became confused as she lowered her eyebrows. With an instant, the young woman reached for the gun from her back pocket. She pulled it out, pointed it towards the employer, and took a shot into her shoulder blade. The employer grabbed her wounded shoulder and fell out of her rolling chair and onto the cold white tile.
"Let me rephrase that," the customer began as she slid the gun back down into her pocket. "I wasn't really asking; I was demanding to see the personal records. But since you wouldn't cooperate with me, I had to take drastic measures." She stared down on the victim, crying in agonizing pain from the wound. The woman sighed and said, "Anyway, don't trouble yourself. I'll go get the files myself."
The employer didn't say a word; she just screamed in pain. Just hearing her scream made the customer roll her eyes as she shook her head. The woman directed her attention away from the victim and her eyes came across a door behind the desk labeled, "Private."
"Is that where I can find all of the personal records?" she asked the victim as she pointed to the door. Again, the victim just screamed. "I guess that I'll take it as a 'yes'." The customer reached into the employer's pocket to grab her keys and headed for the door.
The woman unlocked the door, walked inside, and locked it behind her. As soon as she entered the door frame, she discovered security cameras located in every corner of the room. "Of course they have to be tightly secured about everything," she hissed. "We can fix that..."
With an evil grin on her face, she pulled out her gun again and shot all of the cameras in the lenses. "That's better," she mumbled as she blew the air away from the bullet hole. After she fired a couple of shots, she placed the pistol back down into her back pocket and proceeded towards the file cabinet. "Now let's see here..."
She unlocked the cabinet labeled, "Q-T" and rapidly began to search through the files. Frantically rummaging through all of the folders, she eventually came across the one that she was searching for. "Bingo!...," she mumbled to herself ever so deviously.
"Let's see what we have here." She opened up the manilla folder and took a look at Rachelle's personal information. Scanning through the information, she found Rachelle's street address. "Hmmm, 1401 Pershing Street here in Lincoln, Nebraska? That just works out perfectly."
She closed the folder, placed it under her arm, closed the filing cabinet, and exited the room. As soon as the woman walked out of the room, she discovered the employer still screaming in pain. "Oh look at that, you're still in so much pain. Don't worry, we can fix that." The woman pulled out her gun again and shot the victim dead in order to keep her quiet. "Now that will shut you up," she uttered sarcastically as she put the gun back into her back pocket. "Anyway...thank you for your time, sugar." She stuffed the keys into her bra and headed out the front door.
As she was walking into town, her stomach suddenly began to rumble. The girl felt her stomach and came across the fact that she was hungry. She walked a little further into town and found an all-night diner located on the town square. She entered the restaurant and took a seat up at the bar counter. As soon as she sat down, she caught the attention of a guy who was sitting a few chairs down from her.
"So what's a beautiful girl like you doing out so late?" the guy began to flirt as he took a seat next to the woman. The girl directed her attention to the guy and became a little impressed with his looks. He was about 5'10" with broad muscles. He had a dirty blonde shade to his neatly pampered hairstyle, and his eyes sparkled like the bright feathers on a Blue Jay. He wore a silver sterling rhinestone pierced on his right earlobe, and his beard was cleanly shaved. Alongside from the boy's facial features, he wore a light blue fitted t-shirt that showed the details of his six-pack abs. To top off his look, he wore a pair of tightly fitted jeans and pure white sneakers.
The girl secretly acted like she was falling in love. "I came to Lincoln, Nebraska to visit my cousin...," she began in a romantic, yet flirty, tone. "That is...until I found out that he was dead."
The guy grabbed her hand and held it tight with sympathy. "I'm so sorry to hear that," he whispered in a soft tone.
"Oh it's perfectly fine, sugar," she flirted even more as she pulled her hand away. "Besides, I have some other business to take care of." She pulled out the picture of Rachelle and suddenly got an idea. "That reminds me, what is your name?"
"Oh, huh...," he huffed suspiciously. "Bruce...Bruce Kenzington," he introduced as he shook her hand.
"And do you live here in town, Mr. Bruce Kenzington?" she asked.
"Of course, just about three streets east of this diner."
"Perfect...," she muttered deviously. "So...would you be willing to do something for me?" She flirted with him a little more as she used her two fingers to walk up along his muscular arm.
Bruce felt a little uncomfortable. He grabbed the girl's hand and pushed it away from his body. "That depends...," he began after he cleared his throat. "What are you asking?" She giggled with an evil smile. She pulled out an envelope with money in it and handed it to him.
"There's approximately $100 in this envelope. I'm going to need you to purchase a bottle of Hydrogen Peroxide, and the most highly recommended shotgun from the nearest hunting supply store," the girl stated her proclamation. She smiled at him ever so innocently as she twinkled her eyes and rubbed his abs. "Can you do that for me?"
Bruce began to feel slightly discouraged towards the proposition. "Uh, sweetheart? Why do you-?"
"Shhh!...," she cut him off as she placed her pointer finger up to his lips. "No questions asked. What I need to know is: Are you willing to do this simple little task for me?"
He stared at the envelope and looked at the girl's shiny blue eyes. "Since it's for you? Of course!"
The woman was so eager with cheerful eyes as she kissed Bruce on the cheek. "Thanks, sugar," she mumbled innocently. She stood up from her seat and placed a hand on Bruce's shoulder. "And um...let's not tell anyone about this, or I will have to shoot you. Anyway, call me when the deed is done." She handed him a folded up piece of paper with her phone number written on it. She started to walk away until she remembered something.
"Oh!...," she gasped. She reached down into her bra and pulled out some cash. "Here's an extra $100 just for you doing that for me." She opened up his hand and placed the money into the palm of his hand. "And one more thing, sugar...I have a boyfriend." She clenched the collar of his shirt and pulled him into her body to deliver a long-lasting smooch. As soon as she released him from her possession, she threw him away from herself and smiled with a soft grin of teeth.
The woman stood up from her chair and smiled down on Bruce. "Remember honey, don't forget to call me as soon as you purchase those items for me," she reminded him.
"Sure thing, cupcake," replied Bruce. The girl kissed him on the cheek one more time and headed for the door. Bruce stared down at the piece of paper she gave him and became concerned. He immediately slid out of his chair and scurried after the girl.
"Wait a minute...," he began as he caught up to her. "I didn't catch your name."
She turned around and flashed a devious smirk. "Oh um...let's just say that my name is Vanessa. We don't need to go into any further details," she implied. She smiled one more time and left the diner.
"Vanessa...," mumbled Bruce as he watched the woman leave back into town. He glanced back down at the piece of paper in his hands and sighed. "I don't know about this..." He stared at the $100 bill in his hand. "But the extra $100 is worth it." He folded the dollar bill and piece of paper, slid them down into his shirt pocket, and headed into town.
As the night left, the next morning came around the corner. It was around 11:30 a.m. at the Truman household. Rachelle Truman and her best friend Lyndsay Schafer were sitting in the black tall chairs at the bar counter. They were in the kitchen working on some homework. As the girls were punching the keys on their laptops, someone approached the front door. The knocking on the wood alerted the girls.
"I wonder who that could be?" questioned Lyndsay as she shot her eyes up from her computer screen.
"There's only one way to find out," implied Rachelle. She slid down from her chair and headed for the front door. She placed her hands on the door and looked through the peephole. "Oh Lyndsay, it's the boys."
"What are the odds?...," said Lyndsay slightly sarcastic. Rachelle flashed a half smile towards her and raised an eyebrow. "What? It's not like that I had any doubts that it was going to be them on the other side of that door." Rachelle rolled her eyes and unlocked the door. The very minute that Rachelle opened the door, Troy grabbed her arm and began twirling her around until he dipped her.
Rachelle stared into Troy's eyes, speechless, with a buck-tooth smile. "Um...hi Troy...," she greeted.
"Hello, senorita," replied Troy with a relaxing tone of voice and a sly smile.
Rachelle immediately lowered her eyebrows in confusion. "Okay, what's going on here?" she asked. "First, you barge into my front door and spin me around until you dip me. Next, you stare down on me while speaking Spanish. Now you're giving me that look in your eye like you're flirting with me? I mean, I don't understand. What's wrong with you, Troy?"
"Oh...," began a mysterious voice. Rachelle heard the voice, leaned her head back, and saw Ryan leaning against the door with his arms crossed. "He's just so happy that he passed his math test."
"Oh okay...hi, Ryan...," replied Rachelle. She leaned her head back up to make eye contact with Troy. "So um...can you let me up before you, um, drop me?" She sarcastically smiled and rapidly blinked her eyes. Troy saw the envious look in Rachelle's eyes and quickly leaned her back up onto her feet.
"Woah...," muttered Rachelle as she pulled her shirt down. She walked back over to the dining table with the boys following her.
"So what are y'all up to?" asked Troy.
"Well, Lyndsay and I had just finished our homework. We were going to make some popcorn and watch a movie in the living room," responded Rachelle.
"Oh cool!"
"You two are welcome to join us if you want."
"Really?"
"Well of course...," began Lyndsay. She closed her laptop and slid her glasses up onto her head. "We're all friends here. I mean, it's not like that Rachelle is going to kick you out of her own house."
Ryan moved closer to the table and placed his right arm on the tabletop. "Well look who's being extra sassy today." He flashed her as sly smile as he lowered his eyelids.
"I'm a girl. What did you expect? All of us girls are full of sass."
"I knew that. I mean, any girl who's sassy shows intelligence in my book."
Lyndsay lowered her eyelids and softly smiled with innocence. "You think that I'm intelligent?"
Ryan began to blush and scratched the back of his head. "Of course I do. It's one of the reasons why I appreciate you." Lyndsay bulged up the pupils in her eyes and softly stretched the corners of her mouth across her cheeks. "You...appreciate me?" she asked with a soft mumble. Ryan slightly bared his teeth with a simple, yet short, smile. Lyndsay released a breath and looked at Ryan with a bigger grin.
As Lyndsay and Ryan were staring into each other's eyes, Rachelle tried to get Lyndsay's attention. "Lyndsay?" Rachelle called out. Neither one of them responded. "Lyndsay?" she tried again, but there still wasn't a response.
Troy approached Rachelle from behind. "It doesn't seem like she's going to answer you."
"I don't understand how she can't hear me. I mean, she's literally right there," said Rachelle slightly confused.
"She's probably ignoring you on purpose. I know that I do when I get tired of hearing your voice."
"Ugh." Rachelle displayed an expression with disgust and harshly punched Troy in the upper forearm. "Oh please...," she began as Troy rubbed away the pain rolling down his arm. "She's my best friend. She never ignores me, because she loves me." She approached the two staring at each other.
"Lyndsay!" Rachelle yelled as she banged a fist on the tabletop. The loud noise startled Lyndsay. Her glasses fell from her head and landed onto her nose.
"What!" she freaked out, breathing heavily with a slight heart attack.
"May you hand me that bowl that's behind you? I was going to use it for the popcorn," said Rachelle with a polite tone.
"Huh?" Lyndsay turned around to see the bowl. "Yeah sure...whatever." She grabbed the brim on the dish and handed it to Rachelle.
"Thank you!" replied Rachelle with a cheeky grin.
' Lyndsay let out a sigh as she pushed her glasses back up onto her head. "Geeze...she nearly gave me a heart attack." She rubbed her chest to calm down the pumping of her bloodstreams.
"Don't worry...," began Ryan. He approached Lyndsay's side, wrapped his arm around her shoulder, and looked down on her. "I'd be the one to administer CPR." Lyndsay looked up at Ryan with no response. Ryan softly smiled and winked at her.
"Okay...," began Lyndsay as her emotions were immediately startled. "Who wants a glass of tea?" She slid down from her chair and headed for the cabinet closest to the refrigerator. She opened the cabinet door, grabbed four clear glasses, and began to fill them up with ice and some sweet tea.
While Lyndsay took care of the refreshments, Troy made a quiet conversation with Ryan. "Hey, dude...what was all of that bologna about?" he asked.
"What? Can a guy not be nice to his friend? Like Lyndsay mentioned earlier, 'We're all friends here.', replied Ryan with straight up confidence. Troy rolled his eyes off to the side and shrugged his shoulders. Without another word from either of them, the boys watched Lyndsay prepare the beverages. As she poured the tea into the glasses, the microwave went off.
"Oh goodie! The popcorn is ready," cheered Rachelle. She opened the microwave, pulled out the bag of popcorn, and poured it into the plastic blue bowl. "Now we just have to get the movie ready."
Rachelle smiled at her friends, picked up the bowl of popcorn, and headed into the living room. With the bowl in one arm, she picked up the tv remote from the table and turned on the screen. She started to mess with the buttons on the remote until a news alert came on.
"We interrupt this program for an important news flash," began the reporter. "Prisoner Zack Allen has escaped from the Lincoln Correctional Center. He is a dangerous man, and it has been reported that he is armed. If you see this man, call 9-1-1 immediately. I am Mandy Simmons with the Lincoln County Midday News. Back to you, Walter."
Rachelle immediately froze with shock. Her eyes bulged up, and her mouth dropped without any words coming out. With an instant, she dropped the bowl and the remote. She suddenly fainted to the floor, hitting the corner of her forehead on the glass of the table. The loud noise startled Lyndsay.
"Did you guys hear something?" asked Lyndsay as she turned her head. "Oh my God, Rachelle!" She dropped the pitcher of tea and rushed to her best friend with the boys behind her. Lyndsay, Troy, and Ryan kneeled down around Rachelle with worriness. "Rachelle?...Rachelle?...Rachelle!" cried Lyndsay as she patted Rachelle's cheek with her fingertips.
"Ryan...," she looked up at Ryan with eyes of sorrow.
He placed a hand on Lyndsay's shoulder in sympathy. "It's okay, Lyndsay. There's really nothing to worry about. She just fainted, so she'll wake up soon," informed Ryan.
"In the meantime...," began Troy. He rose up from the carpet and lifted Rachelle up into his arms. "Let's rest her on the couch where it's more comfortable." He walked to the couch, laid her down on the cushions, and rested her head on one of the throw pillows.
"And I'll get an ice pack from the fridge," Ryan insisted. He got back up onto his feet and headed into the kitchen. When she saw the boys walk away, Lyndsay stood back onto her feet and sat down on the couch. She parked herself at the end of Rachelle's feet and stared at her best friend with a deep sigh.
"Here's the ice pack," said Ryan as he placed it down on Rachelle's forehead. Rachelle's friends made themselves comfy in the living room as they waited for her to wake up.
After an hour passed on the clock, Rachelle's body began to slightly twitch. She started to moan and without a moment too soon, she frantically woke up with a beating heart. She leaned up from the cushions, her eyes widened up bigger than usual, and she was deep breathing heavily.
"Zack!...He escaped!...He's...after me!...Hide me!" Rachelle hesitated. She breathed out little words at a time with fright. When Rachelle suddenly freaked out, it startled Lyndsay.
"Rachelle!...," began Lyndsay. She placed her hands on Rachelle's shoulders and slowly laid her back down on the pillow. "Breathe...it's okay..."
Rachelle immediately calmed herself down and let out a deep breath. Lyndsay had a hand on Rachelle's ankle, Ryan held Ray's hand, and Troy had a hold of her arm.
"Are you okay?" asked Ryan. Rachelle nodded her head.
"What happened?" wondered a very concerned Lyndsay.
"Zack Allen! He's escaped from prison, and he's after me. He's going to kill me!" cried Rachelle. Lyndsay's bright blue eyes instantly bulged up with fear. "Oh my goodness..." she mumbled to herself.
"Rachelle, Zack is not going to kill you," reported Troy slightly rolling his eyes to himself.
"Oh yeah? What makes you think that, Mr. Hotshot?" snarled Rachelle as she directed her attention off to the side.
"Take a look at this." Troy picked up the tv remote from the coffee table and pressed the power button. Rachelle looked at him with a confused expression. "We recorded the last part of the news after you passed out." Troy pressed the play button to start the recording.
"I am Mandy Simmons, and I have just been informed that the escaped convict Zack Allen has been found dead. It was reported that he was shot to the chest after pulling the trigger on one of the police officers. The victim's funeral will be held at the Lincoln Memorial Cemetery tomorrow at 10:00 a.m.," the reporter announced on the television set. After the last word was said, Troy paused the recording and turned the tv off. "See?" he said, staring at Rachelle as he put the remote down.
"Woah...," muttered Rachelle. She immediately felt relieved as she threw herself back down on the couch. "That makes me feel a little better to have some of that weight off of my shoulders."
"Yeah...and now you won't have to worry about him coming after you," Lyndsay reminded with a thumbs up. Her and Rachelle smiled at each other with joy and hugged. After the hug was released, they leaned back and sighed with relief.
"Well...," began Rachelle. She stood up from the couch and pulled her shirt down. "Now that that's out of the way, I think that I'm going to go outside for some fresh air." She left the living room and walked to the front door. When she opened the door, she took a deep breath and opened her eyes with a soft grin. As soon as she looked ahead of her, she saw a strange object heading into her direction.
"What the-?" she mumbled with concern. She squinted her eyes to see it was a knife, screamed with a high-pitch screech, and immediately slammed the door shut. The minute that Rachelle shut the door, the flying object stabbed itself into the peephole.
The loud bang of the door frightened Rachelle's friends. They were concerned as they turned their attention. "Dude, Rachelle! What the heck?" wondered Troy.
"Okay...one, this is my house so I can slam the door if I want to. And two, I knife was flying towards me," answered Rachelle, panicking.
"Oh please," remarked Troy as he rolled his eyes.
"I'm serious! I mean, do you not see the sharp end sticking out through the interior peephole of the door?" Troy sighed with despair, left the couch, and approached Rachelle. "Move...," he moaned. He grabbed Rachelle by the arm and pushed her away from the door. As soon as he pulled the door inward, he moved his eyeballs upward and discovered the hunting knife.
"I told you!" Rachelle smarted off. Troy rolled his eyes and pulled the knife out of the wood. Once the knife was in his possession, him and Rachelle stared at it with blank expressions. Unfortunately for Rachelle, her eyes spotted something suspicious on the object.
"Oh my God...," she mumbled shockingly as her eyes widened up.
"What?" asked Troy.
"Do you not know who that knife belongs to?" Rachelle began to breathe frantically.
"Who?"
"That is Zack Allen's knife!" Troy rolled his eyes for the third time in a row. Lyndsay and Ryan instantly became concerned that they began to become a little confused. They left the living room and joined in on the conversation. All four of them huddled together and the conversation continued.
"What in the world makes you think that?" Troy snarled as he raised an eyebrow. Rachelle rolled her eyes as she slapped her forehead.
"All of Zack's hunting knives have the Estrogen brand name engraved on the leathered handle. Plus, it has his initials 'Z. A.' which clearly stands for 'Zack Allen'," Rachelle explained. She raised an eyebrow and widened up her eyes.
"Rachelle...," Troy began as he placed a hand on her shoulder. "I think that you could just be overreacting."
Rachelle, feeling a little gloomy, looked up at Troy. She saw the concern for her reactions in his pupils. "I guess that you're right. It could just be a vivid of my imagination." Troy softly smiled when he removed his hand from Rachelle's shoulder. She smiled back at Troy and bent her down. As she threw her head down, her blue eyes suddenly discovered a mysterious note on the hardwood floor.
"What's this?" she wondered. She bent down, picked up the piece of paper, and flipped it over. Once her eyes saw the note, she froze with sweat roaming down her face from her forehead. "'I'm back'...," she read the note as she showed it to her friends. Lyndsay and Ryan gasped, but Troy still wasn't moved.
"Oh come on, Rachelle. It can't be Zack, because he's dead, remember?" pleaded Troy.
"Then how do you explain Zack's signature in the bottom right corner of the note, huh?" she smarted off to his face.
"Seriously, Rachelle?" Troy crossed up his arms with annoyance. "Anybody could've done his signature in order to make you lose your mind."
"Yeah...like Zack himself!"
Troy rolled his eyes up to the ceiling. Seconds later, Rachelle's cellphone started to go off. She pulled it out from her back pocket and saw a strange phone number calling.
"Unknown?... she hesitated. She stared at her friends with worried emotions.
"Answer it," suggested Ryan.
"Really?"
"Yes!...," Ryan encouraged as he pulled out his laptop from his backpack. "I can trace the phone call, and hopefully, we can go bust him for good." Rachelle nodded her head in agreement and answered the incoming call. "Hello?" she greeted.
"Did you think that you'd never see me again? We're just getting started my dear," the voice replied.
"What do you want, Zack? Where are you?" As Rachelle spoke into the phone, Ryan frantically typed on his keyboard to locate the connection.
"Get ready, sweetie. I'm back, and I'm coming for you, Rachelle. This is only the beginning." Without a moment too soon, the phone call immediately ended.
"Hello?...Hello?" Rachelle cried through the phone.
"Crap!" grunted Ryan as he threw his fists onto the keyboard. Rachelle flashed her eyes to Ryan with a scared expression displayed on her face. Ryan looked at Rachelle with guilt. "I'm sorry, Ray. I tried to track the phone call, but the computer said, 'Failed Connection'."
Rachelle looked back at Troy and swallowed a gulp. "Troy?..." she mumbled with hesitation.
Troy shook his head in annoyance. "No, Rachelle! I am not going to be dragged into one of your hallucinations. You heard that Zack is dead, and you know it. We all saw the news," he hissed, becoming agitated.
"But Troy!" Rachelle begged.
"No, Rachelle!" Troy threw his arms to his sides, opened the door, and slammed it shut on his way out. Rachelle immediately became disgusted. She looked at her friends, saw the confused expressions on their faces, and grunted her teeth. "Fine!" she opened the door. "But when I wind up dead, don't you even bother coming to my funeral!"
Rachelle huffed through her nostrils and slammed the door shut. Growling through her clenched her teeth, she stomped up to her room and closed the door. Lyndsay and Ryan looked at each other with worriness. They shrugged their shoulders and quietly exited out the front door.
"I can't believe him! Lyndsay and Ryan knew how I felt, but Troy didn't have a care in the world," she mumbled to herself as she plopped on her bed. Without a moment too soon, Rachelle slowly closed her eyes and fell into her nightly snooze.
A couple of hours into the night and Rachelle suddenly heard a strange noise. She immediately flashed open her eyelids, leaned up from her comforter, and saw a dark shadow standing before her. Panicking with a rapid heart beat, she kneeled on her bed.
"Who are you? What do you want?" she demanded with hesitation. The figure didn't say a word, which worried Rachelle even more. She pulled out her phone and quickly stood up on her bed. "Either you get out of my house right now, or I'm calling the cops." The intruder still didn't respond. Instead, they pulled out a pistol and loaded a couple of bullets into it.
"What are you doing?" Rachelle demanded. Her eyes instantly popped out of their sockets as soon as she saw them pull the trigger. Without a moment too soon, the intruder suddenly began to fire the bullets into Rachelle's direction.
"Ah!...," she screamed while losing her balance. As she dodged all of the bullets, Rachelle quickly fell backwards off of the bed. She landed on the carpet and frantically popped her head up once the intruder quit firing.
"Ha, ha, you missed me!" she joked around. She saw the intruder pick up the lamp from her nightstand and threw it in her direction. She screamed a second time and dodged the object. Covering her head with her hands, she saw the lamp break in half in front of her. She gasped and quickly became discouraged. "Oh I see, we're throwing things now," she muttered. Rachelle picked up a ball and a bat from underneath her bed and pitched it towards the intruder. Unfortunately for the intruder, the ball jammed them in the forehead which caused them to fall to the floor.
Rachelle looked over the edge of the bed and saw them lying on the carpet. "Now's my chance," she hesitated. She threw herself up from the floor and made a run for her bedroom door. Before she could reach the doorknob, the intruder snatched the collar of her shirt. They wrapped their arm around her throat and attempted to choke her. Rachelle grunted and struggled as she kicked her feet. She fought back every time she was lifted off of the floor.
Luckily, she saw her bedroom window opened. While struggling, she dragged the intruder over to the glass. With a stronger force, Rachelle backed up to the window and pushed them outside. The intruder fell into a bush next to the house, immediately saw one of the motion lights come on, and scurried down the street. She witnessed the figure head into town, slammed her window shut, locked the switch, and pulled her curtains together.
Rachelle turned her back to the window and became scared. "Oh my God! It's true...Zack really is alive!" She began to panic and started to run for the door, screaming. Heading for the door, she suddenly tripped over something and face-planted onto the floor. Landing on the floor with a thonk caused her to suddenly knock herself out.
The next morning came around, and Rachelle slowly began to wake up. She rolled onto her back, placed a hand on her forehead, and sighed in pain.
"What did I trip over?" she wondered as she opened her eyelids. She leaned forward onto her side and saw something lying in the middle of her bedroom floor. "What the-?" She picked it up and immediately knew what it was.
"A tape recorder? What is this doing in the middle of my room?" She glanced up at her window, and her eyes slowly widened up. "Unless it could have fell out of the intruder's pocket."
Rachelle looked at the tape recorder, saw that the little screen said, "Press play," and chose to play the tape. "I'm coming for you, Rachelle. You can't hide from me. This is only the beginning," said the recording.
Rachelle's emotions rapidly got the best of her. She paused the recording and began to freak out with a rapid heartbeat. "That's definitely Zack's voice...so that means, the intruder was Zack! Lyndsay!" she screamed. She threw herself up from the carpet and rushed out the front door to her best friend's house.
After running down the street, she finally arrived at the Schafer household. She walked up to the door and began to knock. "Lyndsay! Are you home?" she called out as she banged on the door with her fist. Freaking out, Lyndsay swung open the door with hesitation.
"Dude! What's wrong?" worried Lyndsay with a rapid heartbeat.
Rachelle tried to speak as she was losing her breath. "Zack!...Intruder!...He was in my room last night...," she babbled.
"Excuse me?"
"Someone broke into my bedroom last night and started shooting. I tried to escape, but they started to strangle me. Luckily, I was able to back them up to the window to get them out of my room. Then this morning, I apparently tripped over this," Rachelle explained as she pulled out the object.
Lyndsay instantly became confused when she saw what Rachelle showed her. "A tape recorder?" she scrunched up her nose. "What would a tape recorder be doing on your bedroom floor?"
"I don't know. I figured that it could have fallen out of the intruder's pocket, but I honestly don't have a clue." Lyndsay lowered her eyebrows and displayed a sly smile with concern. "But that doesn't matter right now," Rachelle started up again, waving her hands. "Just listen..."
Rachelle played the recording on the device for Lyndsay. Lyndsay, with her eyebrows still lowered, crossed her arms and listened to the recording. As she heard the message, she placed a finger up to her bottom lip. After the recording stopped, Lyndsay suddenly became suspicious. "Hmm...," she sighed, thinking.
"It sounds just like Zack, doesn't it?" asked Rachelle as she pressed the pause button.
"It doesn't sound like Zack, sweetie. That is Zack!" Lyndsay slightly freaked out internally, pointing at the tape recorder.
"I knew it!..."
"And did you happen to notice that that recording said the exact same message as it did on the other line of that unknown phone call?" Rachelle raised an eyebrow. "Then again, that recording lasted for the exact amount of time as the phone call did."
Rachelle widened up her eyes. She glanced at the tape recorder in her hand and stared back at Lyndsay. "You're right," she quietly muttered. She lowered her mouth into a glum expression and raised her eyebrows as her instincts froze. "But what I don't understand is why it said, 'Failed Connection' when Ryan tried to trace the phone call."
Lyndsay slanted her mouth and crossed her arms. "Beats me. The only possible explanation that I could give you is that maybe Ryan wasn't fast enough. Like, he wasn't fully able to trace the phone call before it ended," she suggested as she shrugged her shoulders. Rachelle released a heavy sigh with disappointment. Lyndsay felt Rachelle's sympathy and placed a hand on her shoulder. "In the meantime...," she began as she grabbed Rachelle's hand. "Why don't we go cover up those bruises on your neck." Lyndsay dragged her best friend upstairs to the bathroom.
"Are they really that noticeable?" Rachelle began to freak out.
"Just a little bit," replied Lyndsay.
"Great..."
"That's okay. All we have to do is cover them with a little bit of foundation."
The girls walked into the hallway bathroom and closed the door. Lyndsay pulled out her makeup bag from the center drawer of the vanity and began to dig for her foundation powder.
"Found it!" she pulled the item out of the bag. "Now lean your head back halfway a little." Rachelle did as suggested as Lyndsay twisted the top off of the container. Using a big powder brush, she applied some of the powder to Rachelle's neck in order to cover up the visible bruises.
"At least that they're not that dark," Lyndsay pointed out as she was halfway done.
"Really?" wondered Rachelle.
"Yeah. It's not taking much powder to cover these up." There was a couple of seconds of silence until a new conversation was brought up.
"Do you want to know what's really strange?" questioned Rachelle.
"What's that?" asked Lyndsay.
"The strength from last night's choking incident wasn't as strong as it was the first time that Zack choked me. In other words, it was much lighter this time than the previous."
"Well, he has been cooped up in a prison cell for awhile. He could've lost his strength  since he wasn't out in the public."
"I guess you're right."
"Anyway...I'm done!" Lyndsay put the lid back onto the container and stuffed her supplies back into her makeup bag.
"Really?" asked Rachelle as she leaned her head forward and looked in the mirror.
"Yep!" Lyndsay looked at the mirror. "It's like that there wasn't any marks at all." They fist pump with sneaky joy.
"You're the best," encouraged Rachelle.
"I know. I'm guilty as charged," Lyndsay sarcastically agreed. The girls laughed amongst themselves as hard as they could. After releasing a couple of laughs, they calmed themselves down. Rachelle used her hand to wipe away the sweat in relief.
As soon as Lyndsay stopped laughing, her eyes popped open and her jaw dropped. Her pupils discovered something on Rachelle's forehead. "Uh, Ray...," she mumbled with hesitation.
"What?" Rachelle worried.
Lyndsay used her hand to carefully move Rachelle's bangs off to the side. "Can you hold your bangs right there up to your roots?"
"Sure." As Rachelle did what she was asked, Lyndsay pulled out her camera and snapped a picture of Rachelle's forehead. "Okay...you can release your bangs," said Lyndsay.
Rachelle pulled her hand away from her hairline. After Lyndsay was able to pull the photo on her screen, she showed Rachelle.
"What the-?" freaked Rachelle. She shoved her bangs to the side again and stared into the mirror. Her eyes saw the words, "You're dead," written in black ink on her forehead. "Ah!...," she panicked as she tried to rub the ink off. "It's not coming off!"
"That's because it was written with a black Sharpie marker," Lyndsay made another point.
"What makes you think that?" Rachelle flashed a look at Lyndsay.
"I can smell the alcohol from the ink. Trust me, I can recognize Sharpie ink when I smell it." Rachelle displayed a devastating expression on her face. She moaned in depression, faced the mirror again, and ferociously rubbed her forehead to remove the markings.
While Lyndsay watched Rachelle have a panic attack, she discovered a weird marking appearing on her back. She moved closer to Rachelle's side and grabbed her shirt. Rachelle felt her shirt being clenched and immediately became slightly embarrassed. "Uh, Lyndsay?" Lyndsay, with the material in her palms, quickly lifted Rachelle's shirt.
"Dude, Lyndsay!" Rachelle's voice screeched as she showed blushies in her cheeks. "What the heck?"
"Be still!" Lyndsay commanded as she released the grip. "Just hold your shirt up." Rachelle held her shirt in place while Lyndsay used her camera to snap a photograph. "Okay, now you can put your shirt down."
After Rachelle straightened out the wrinkles in her shirt, Lyndsay showed her the picture that she took. Rachelle took a look at the picture. Her eyes immediately bulged up, and her heart stopped beating. She gasped with fright, lifter her shirt back up, and faced the mirror. "Watch your back?" she mumbled once she saw the reflection. "Oh no..." Rachelle flashed her eyes to Lyndsay. "Let me guess...this message was written in Sharpie too, wasn't it?" Lyndsay looked at the mirror and then at her friend. Knowing what the answer was, she half smiled with guilt.
Rachelle understood the message that she was given and began to freak out again. "Aw man...what are we going to do? The boys are going to be here soon," Rachelle hesitated.
"It's not a problem, Rachelle," began Lyndsay. She opened the cabinet underneath the sink and pulled out two items. "All we'll need is a bottle of rubbing alcohol and cotton balls." Lyndsay placed them on the counter and smiled with determination.
"Really?" Rachelle smarted off when she pulled her shirt down. "You're going to use alcohol to remove alcohol?"
"I know that it sounds stupid, but do you want my help or not?"
"Yes."
"Okay. Now pin your bangs back, and we'll remove the ink from your forehead first."
Rachelle pinned her bangs up to her roots with a bobby pin while Lyndsay poured some rubbing alcohol onto a cotton ball. The cotton ball was ready, and Lyndsay used it to clear Rachelle's forehead. After a few seconds of scrubbing, all of the ink was easily removed from Rachelle's forehead.
"Ta-da!" cheered Lyndsay as she showed her best friend the ink covered cotton ball.
"Wow! You're like a beauty expert," remarked a very impressed Rachelle.
"See? I told you that I knew what I was talking about. You just have to trust me."
"Oh you know that I always trust you." They smiled at each other with generosity.
"Now, we just have to remove the markings from your back," Lyndsay informed as she threw away the first dirty cotton ball.
"Great!" eagered Rachelle. She turned around and lifted her shirt up for the third time. Once she was ready, Lyndsay prepared a few cotton balls and proceeded to clear the skin. While she was removing the writing, there was a visitor at the door. The doorbell rang which alerted Lyndsay with a slight panic.
"Just a minute!" she called out from the upstairs bathroom. The doorbell rang again. "We'll be down in a second!" The doorbell rang for the third time which caused Lyndsay to lose her temper. "Hold your horses!" she hollered as she began to scrub Rachelle's back a little harder, yet faster.
"You can definitely tell that that's the guys," mentioned Rachelle.
Lyndsay rolled her eyes as she shook her head. "Yep. Every guy is so impatient."
"Tell me about it."
"Anyway...," Lyndsay began again as she threw away the cotton ball. "You're done!"
"Really?" asked Rachelle.
"Yep." Lyndsay used a hand towel to dry Rachelle's back from the alcohol. "It's like that there wasn't anything there."
Rachelle snapped a look in the mirror to see her back completely bare-free from any scratches or markings. "Wow! You're like a wizard. I just love you!" Rachelle expressed with amazement.
"See what happens when you trust me?" Lyndsay sarcastically smarted off as she put away the rubbing alcohol and bag of cotton balls.
"I always trust you. You're my best friend," replied Rachelle with a friendly smile.
As Lyndsay placed the supplies back down under the sink, the doorbell rang another time. The screeching ring aggravated Lyndsay's eardrums. She threw herself back up with a feisty streak. "Oh my God!...," she huffed with annoyance.
She stormed out of the bathroom and hurried down the staircase. "These idiots are going to break my doorbell if they don't quit ringing it," she huffed again. She reached the front door, jerked the knob to the side, and flung the door open. "What!" she grunted ferociously. Her eyebrows laid strongly onto her eyelids, she bared her teeth with anger, and her nostrils were flared.
The boys witnessed how agitated that they made Lyndsay. They pictured her as a bull raging with fury when it's annoyed with the color red. "What do you idiots want? What's so important that you just had to wear out my doorbell?" hissed Lyndsay.
"What took you so long to open the door?" asked Troy as he walked through the door, barging past Lyndsay.
"Sorry...," Lyndsay began sarcastically. She let Ryan into the house and locked the door. "I was helping Rachelle in the bathroom. Just be glad that I actually opened the door."
"What's wrong with Rachelle? Is she okay?" worried Troy.
"I just had to help her remove a couple of markings from her skin and cover up some bruises from her neck."
Troy and Ryan flashed looks of discouragement. "What do you mean by 'bruises'?" asked Troy.
"And 'markings'?" Ryan added on. Lyndsay bared her clenched teeth, moaned with a grunt, and slowly slid her hands down into her back pockets. "Lyndsay?..."
"Huh...look, here's the thing...," Lyndsay tried to explain until she was caught off. Her and the boys heard someone coming down the stairs.
"Hey guys...," greeted Rachelle as she entered herself into the conversation. Everybody else immediately stopped talking and dragged their attention to the company. Rachelle became very concerned when she saw the boys looking at her in an unattractive way. "Why are you two staring at me like that?" she demanded with confusion.
The boys crossed their arms. "What is this deal about bruises and markings?" Troy demanded. Rachelle popped open her eyes and swallowed a gulp. She flashed her eyeballs over into Lyndsay's direction. "You told them?" she cried with embarrassment.
"I had to, Rachelle. They are our friends. They have the right to know. We're all friends here, so they need to know what happened," said Lyndsay. Rachelle sighed in misfortune. "And apparently, they know how to make me crack when I know things like that," Lyndsay added.
"You did good," Ryan sarcastically encouraged when he placed a hand on her shoulder. Lyndsay looked at him with an annoyed expression.
"You might want to be careful, or you'll get a couple of bruises yourself," Lyndsay smarted off. Ryan saw the evil grin in her eyes and immediately pulled his hand away from her shoulder.
Ryan cleared his throat and asked, "So what happened? How did you get those bruises?"
"I was laying on my bed last night when someone broke into my room and began to shoot at me. Luckily, I was able to dodge all of the bullets. When I tried to escape, they grabbed me and started to strangle me. That's how I got these bruises on my neck," Rachelle explained.
Lyndsay pulled out her camera and viewed the last two pictures that she snapped. "And these were the markings...," she began to show the images to the boys. "They wrote, 'You're dead' on her forehead and 'Watch your back' on her back."
"They wrote those messages in Sharpie ink as to where Lyndsay had to help me remove them from my skin," Rachelle added.
"Were you able to recognize the intruder? Or do you have an idea of who it could've been?" asked Ryan.
"It was Zack!" Rachelle threw out there. Troy grunted viciously and released his arms from his chest. "Oh my God! Here we go again...," he muttered through his clenched teeth. Rachelle sighed with dissatisfaction.
"If it wasn't Zack, then how do you explain this?" remorsed Rachelle. She pulled out the tape recorder that she found and played the track. After the recording ended, the boys didn't know what to say. "Well?..." Rachelle began again.
Ryan pulled back his bottom jaw in guilt. "I don't know about you, Troy, but I'm pretty convinced."
Troy crossed his arms and rolled his eyes. He released a sigh of despair. "Rachelle, Zack is dead. End of discussion."
Rachelle rolled her eyes and looked at Lyndsay. "May I see the camera real quick?" she asked Lyndsay holding her hand out.
"Of course," answered Lyndsay. She gave the camera to Rachelle, and Rachelle began to preview the previous snapshots. When she found the ones of her body, she suddenly discovered something odd about the messages. "Uh, Lyndsay? Do you notice anything strange about these images?" Rachelle showed her the previews.
"What's wrong with them?" asked Lyndsay as she looked at the pictures.
"These messages were actually, yet clearly, written with a left hand," Rachelle pointed out.
"How can you tell?"
"Because the writing is slanted and the ink is smeared. Plus, the handwriting is very similar to that note that was attached to my front door earlier."
"Seriously, Rachelle?" Troy butted in the conversation.
Rachelle sighed and rolled her eyes. "Troy, the messages couldn't have been from Zack. They were written with a left hand, and Zack is right-handed."
"Zack could've used his left hand to try and throw us off," Ryan suggested.
"It doesn't matter whether he was left or right-handed. No matter how hard you try, I'm not going to believe it. It's preposterous! The guards reported Zack Allen dead on the news. He was shot in the chest," informed Troy, fixing to lose his mind.
"There's a possibility that he could've faked his death," said Rachelle with a sarcastic grin.
"Now why would he have done that?"
"To throw us off, duh!"
"Rachelle! His dead body was shown in the news report this morning!" Troy began to yell. "And to prove it, I say that we visit the correctional center to see for ourselves." Everybody climbed into the truck and headed to the Lincoln County Correctional Center that was a couple of miles out of town.
***** They arrive at the correctional center and walked through the front door. "What can I do for you kids?" greeted the officer at the front desk.
"May we have a look inside the cell that held Zack Allen?" asked Troy.
"Of course." The officer pushed out his chair and rose up onto his feet. "Follow me." He led the gang down the hall to the prison cells. As soon as they came across the designated cell, the bolt was unlocked and the kids took a look inside. They scanned the room wall-to-wall and realized that it was completely clean.
"It's empty," Ryan pointed out in shock.
"Indeed. Ever since Mr. Allen was shot dead, we've had our custodian clean this cell spotless," the officer explained.
"So Zack Allen really is dead?" asked Troy.
"As far as I know, he is."
"I told you...," Troy sarcastically remarked towards Rachelle with a sly brow. Rachelle grunted, rolled her eyes, and walked away.
"I've heard that someone tried to choke you," said a female officer as Rachelle walked. past her. Rachelle immediately stopped to speak to the guard. "Yes ma'am, but I'm okay now," she replied.
"That's good that you're safe. You never know when your time will come. I mean, we wouldn't want you to...die..." The female guard's remarks began to concern Rachelle. With the guard's devious grins, Rachelle's heart slowly began to beat faster.  "Anyway, you kids be careful out there! There's a lot of crazy people in this world." She flashed Rachelle an envious sly smile and walked away.
Rachelle watched the guard exit the hallway and turned around. When she turned around, Rachelle discovered her friends walking out the front door. She scurried her legs in order to catch up with them. "That female officer just looked at me in a weird way," she informed once she approached her friends.
"They all look at everyone in that sort of way," said Troy.
"I'm not sure about that officer, though. I mean, w if it's Zack in disguise?"
Troy huffed heavily in a strong breath. "Rachelle! For the last time, Zack is dead. There's absolutely no way that he can hurt you. He can't hurt you anymore, nor will he even be able to."
Rachelle lowered her head and sighed in misery. "Anyway...," Troy began a new conversation. "Why don't we all get some sleep? We have school in the morning. Besides, a good night's sleep will make us have a normal day tomorrow."
Troy walked away from Rachelle and headed towards the vehicle. Ryan quickly became concerned when he witnessed Rachelle staring down at the bag in her hands that contained the Estrogen knife. "Are you okay, Ray?" he asked when he approached her.
She slowly looked up at Ryan with puny pupils. "If it really is him, which I know it is, he better be ready. I'm not going down without a fight," she informed with determination. She sighed and began to walk away. Ryan watched Rachelle leave the entry way of the building and sit down on the nearest bench. He felt really bad for her, so he approached the bench and sat down next to her.
"Chin up!" he encouraged as he nudged her in the shoulder.
"How can I when there's someone out to get me?" Rachelle moaned.
"Ray, nobody is out to get you," grunted Troy as he rolled his eyes.
"How do you explain the choking incident, the bruises on my neck, and the threatening notes on my body?"
"That's not unusual."
"They wrote, 'You're dead' and 'Watch your back'." Troy rolled his eyes again. "We also heard Zack say, 'I'm coming for you'. All of that doesn't concern you?" Rachelle kept on pleading.
"Rachelle, this could all just be a vivid of your imagination. You're probably freaked out that he might be coming after you that it's really happening," Troy suggested in an attempt to calm her down.
"What makes you think that this is all my imagination? Do you not see this?" screeched Rachelle as she pointed to her neck.
"Yes, I see the bruise, but that doesn't prove anything. You could've just hit your bed frame while you were asleep."
"Oh yeah, right! Totally!" Rachelle smirked sarcastically as she crossed her arms.
"Rachelle, nobody is out to get you, and nobody will ever be coming for you," Troy hissed ferociously. He huffed out of his flared nostrils and walked away from them. Rachelle threw her head down and looked at the knife in her palms. Ryan felt her sympathy and laid a hand on her shoulder.
Rachelle looked up at Ryan. "You believe me, don't you?" she quivered.
"Yes. Of course I believe you...," he began. "Do I think that someone's trying to kill you? Yes. Do I think that it's Zack? No."
"Well, at least you're not being a total idiot like Troy is."
"Ray, you're not going to die!" Rachelle looked at him straight in the eye and half smiled. Ryan smiled back at her in a response. "It's getting late. You should probably head home." Rachelle hugged him tight and walked all the way back to her house.