HAUNTED
eight

8

“Won’t you just admit it,” the cop opposite the interrogation room asked, the two-way mirror behind him.

“I have told you everything I know already,” she sighed, “I’m hungry, can I have some donuts please.” She asked nicely even managed to pull off a friendly smile.

“You were both on the scene of the explosion. When you heard, the gun shot you ran in to the school. The station blew up seconds after you left. Teachers say you refused medical assistance when you got out of the school after blowing it up.”

“I am really hungry,” he sighed, and some other cop she assumed had been watching walked in with a box of donuts. After taking the first bite, “I write stories about the school all the time, like I said before, so I ran in because I thought I might find out something useful before teachers banned entry. And he came after me because he wanted to. I found Sam, for the millionth time,” she added fed up with this, “with a gun in his hands, having shot his long-time bully, okay.”

The cop just sighed and took a seat.

“Then, Jacob and I talked him out of it. Jacob tried to help the bully, Sam ran away. And…” she remembers something new, “there was a girl, watching from a corner. Sam left with her…. Why didn’t I remember earlier,” it now felt like a life time ago because she had literally watched a life flash before her eyes, “I set of the fire alarm before Sam left, to get others out. Then the place blew up and splattered the remains of the bully everywhere when the ceiling caved. Then we found our way down stairs somehow and left.

“I went to the station to give a statement, my aunty found me dragged me out, nearly beat me to death…”

“You don’t look nearly beat to death.”

“I know. But she did, I fled and it blew up.” She chowed down in the donuts, “just like I said before. Plus, the girl, I saw hiding in the corner.”

“They found your friend.”

“And?!” she really didn’t want him in this. But then she began to think that maybe he was guilty. “Which friend,” they might be talking about Sam.

“The Jacob feller.”

“Okay. How is he,” she asked distracted by the food, “these taste really good.” She didn’t know that they had put a truth serum into the donuts hoping she would speak.

“Okay so far. Tell me more about Jacob.”

“He is a really good person,” she said feeling kind of weird, open.

“Anything else,” he insisted.

“Unless you haven’t noticed he is kind of hot too, clever, smart enough to make bird people. Sam bombed the school and probably the station too.” The truth serum hurt if one didn’t speak the whole truth. It was a last resort.

“Is there another bomb?”

“I don’t know,” she didn’t feel a thing just warm and fusses. “Where is Jacob?”

“The truth serum is not working,”

“Truth serum cool,” she reached for another donut, “my last period was last week. It was a mess, I stained my pants a little in class I had to go wash out in the bathroom. It was just on my mind. I hate my aunt. I honestly want to kill her. She has hurt me, every day of my life…”

“She is such a nice lady she brought us all cookies,” the cop said with a nostalgic look.

“I know what she is really like, what it really feels like, to be broken to nothing then bandaged by a fake heart. She is a nice person,” she lied, and a burning pain filed through her. She didn’t scream just flinched. “Where is Jacob?”

“In the building,” she oddly felt relieved that he was here. He was walking in calmly with his wrists cuffed… wondering if she had been involved in the bombing. Down the hall from the celebrating cops, overjoyed by their success in capturing the bombers, who they believed where the bombers.

“Can I talk to him,” she asked.

“No,” the interrogator responded firmly.

“Why not,” he didn’t respond, “look, you gave me a truth serum thingy right? So, if I talk to Jacob I am more likely to spill the truth, somehow right?”

Without a word the cop stood up and walked out leaving her alone in the room. She stared at the mirror for a while, fighting the temptation to pop a small zit by her chin… she sighed and slouched in her seat. “My butt hurts, this chair is not for the butt-less,” she said out loud, “not everyone is a Kardashian you know!” The cops in the observation room couldn’t help a laugh or smile at her insanity.

The door opened, it was Jacob with another cop. They removed his cuffs like they had done hers and without a word the cop left the room and locked the door behind him.

“Sup,” she said first.

“Sup,” he said back awkwardly as he took a seat opposite to her.

“So how did they find you?” before he could answer she spoke again, “they shoved a gun in my face in a park,” then she laughed a little, “They thought I had a suicide bomb.”

“I walked to a cop and asked him to take me to you. Not as scary as your capture,” it had turned into a casual conversation in a sense.

“It wasn’t scary, I don’t mind death,” he felt oddly hurt by the statement.

“In this life, too,” he said almost angry, frustrated more hurt.

“Sorry,” she felt she had to apologise, “life hasn’t been a friend of mine. It’s this stupid truth serum thing they gave me, every thought I have, spills out.”

“Cool”

“That’s what I said.”

“You are hard to find.”

“Why are you doing this you don’t even know me…” he went quiet. She sighed.

“I don’t know,” he finally answered, “I guess its residual emotions.”

“Is that why you kissed me,” she looked right at him and he right at her.

“Maybe, more because I wanted to remember and I figured… since we… in the past,” he struggled for his words.

“You’re cute,” she blushed, he chuckled.

“I love this truth serum,” she laughed.

“Don’t get used to it. It’s honestly kind of irritating,” she responded, “if I don’t say anything it hurts like hell.”

“Sorry, I should have been here sooner.”

“It’s okay the donuts were amazing,” the taste still lingered in her mind, “the serum was in the donuts.”

“I have been thinking… umm… I don’t know how to put this without pissing you off,” he leaned on the table with his elbows slightly.

“That’s a great start,” she said sarcastically, then flinched, “even with sarcasm, come on!” He instinctively reached for her hand when she flinched.

He let go awkwardly balling his hand into a fist.

“Are you involved in the bombings,” she asked him. He looked up at her puzzled, “I mean I just met you yesterday and I feel like we have lived lifetimes together but my logic tells me to use my logic… Welcome into my mind… when does this wear off… are you?”

“No,” he smiled, “I was just about to ask if you were?”

“I’m not,” she answered, “but they don’t think so,” she pointed at the two-way mirror.

“Guess not,” he sat back, “why did you run into the school after the shot was fired?”

“Curiosity, instinct, stupid horror movie follow-the-sound mentality,” she spat out possible explanations, “I’m the student editor for the school paper, the truth is my hobby and lies are my existence.”

“Why did you come after me?”

“I don’t know.”

“There is a lot you don’t know.”

“I know,” he looked at the two-way mirror for a while, “I figure now, I saw you die once I didn’t want to see that again…”

“I felt death,” she said as a non-truth-serum hurt stuck to her heart.

“Weird feeling, right?”

“How did you die in that life?”

“I don’t remember yet.”

“Then how…”

“My life before this one… I remember everything… well almost everything… especially death.”

“How are we getting out of here? Are you going to…?”

“Nope,” he interrupted, “can’t,” she ordered her brain to think about something else.

“We need to prove we are innocent.”

“Yeah,” he was thinking.

“I think there are more bombs, they kept asking me if there were more,” she reached out on the desk, “give me your hand,” curious he placed his hand in hers.

“What are you doing,” she just held on to it and squeezed.

“Taking strength,” she sighed, quoting a memory from another life.

She stood before masses, her father saying some nonsense she didn’t listen to. He stood beside her, took her hand and whispered in her ear, “Take strength.” And a capable calm came over her. Her father turned to her for a moment and he let go almost instantly, whispered, “Love you,” to her like it was official business and walked away to his post.

He smiled, “this past life stuff is weird.”

“I have to deal with the past life stuff, a serial bomber, you!?” she felt emotionally tired, “tired… where do you think he is going to bomb next.”

“School, police station… maybe a hospital,” he just guessed.

“They do sort of fit in the same group,” she looked at the two-way mirror, “Oy, you people who are watching us. Check every relation Samuel Crest has to hospitals in the city…” she thought for a while, “there was a girl, in the corner. I don’t remember her name… Bring the school year book, she might be in it. She can’t be a new transfer coz he must have known her long enough to trust her with blowing stuff up.”

“Sam mentioned his mother’s memorial in passing yesterday when I had a short conversation with him,” Jacob interjected.

“That’s not suspicious at all,” he smirked at her comment, “his mother died in a hospital last year during surgery.”

“Check for that hospital,” he said, “if he is planning on bombing anywhere else it’s probably there.”

“We should have these conversations more often,” she said the truth serum wearing off. A cop walked in.

“We should,” Jacob responded.

“You must be some very unlucky teens,” the cop said with a heavy southern accent.

“Anything else you want to ask me before this truth serum completely wears off… I’m like a serial liar… so this is your chance to get some truth,” she asked as he stood up to follow the cop.

She stood and was right behind him by the door, he suddenly turned looked to the floor in thought then to her, “in that life did you truly ever love me?” he had been wondering years before, if he had just been coaxed into making the virus.

She cradled his cheek in her hand and brushed it tenderly with her thumb as she smiled, “I’m beginning to think it’s the only life that I…” she sighed and her hand fell to her side, “whoever I was then… it seemed like you were the only part of my life that didn’t suck.”

He smiled and she walked out before him, “we can’t really trust you, I’m sure you can understand that…” the southern cop spoke in the hall way as he led them to his office. He seemed like the guy in charge in fact he was, “I’m putting a lot of faith in you, please don’t let me regret it.”

They walked into his office. He closed the door behind them. There was a lot of wood and fishing stuff in the office, unusual for a modern office to be so ancient looking, “take seats,” he ordered like a cheerful grandfather.

They sat, “you need to help us catch this feller you keep referring to.” Someone barged in. A young feller just a few years older than them.

“Sir, they were right,” he blurted, “St Anne’s hospital down on main, has just reported a hostage situation.”

“Told you so,” Lex murmured.

“You are both still in police custody until this is solved. I want someone with them all the time. They still might be involved in this. Let’s go.” They remained sitting.

“You are coming with us, get up,” they stood.

“We were in two bomb situations yesterday. Can we not be in another one,” Jacob pleaded emotionally tired.

“You know what the feller looks like,” he walked out and the younger cop, Julius followed behind them making sure they don’t plan to leave in any way.

Lex sighed as they were forced into the back of a police car, Julius and Old John in the front. The car started, sirens blurring, radios wracking as Old John and Julius drove the car fast and reckless.

“So, you are back to lying,” Jacob said only loud enough for her to hear clearly.

“I never lied to you,” she responded, “at least not yet.”

“What do you expect us to do when we get there,” Jacob asked louder, for the cops in the front seats to hear.

“Walk in and stop him, prove you are innocent.” Old John said.

“But that’s crazy,” Julius interjected, “they are just a couple of kids.”

“A couple of kids that managed to assure that nearly everyone at the school was evacuated before the ripple bomb blew up,” he stomped the accelerator, “they are a couple of smart kids that can take care of themselves. If they want to be innocent, they will stop him.”

“It won’t prove our innocence if we go in there,” Lex butted in the conversation, “if the place blows up, we would have been in there and set it up possibly. If it doesn’t we could have just escape innocent of the other bombings. What are you up to? Both ways you have us pinned guilty, no matter what we say.”

“They could be accomplices,” Julius said.

“Are you trying to get us into some more trouble,” Jacob turned to her.

“I have a plan trust me,” with all that had happened she was probably the only person he could trust in this, “we can stop Sam.”

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