Coming Back (2 page)

Christie

The FBI agents were obviously getting frustrated with me.  Every time I woke up, they were right there, ready with a barrage of questions, but all I could muster up were vague shrugs and one-word answers.

I didn’t have the energy for more.  I felt like I was running marathons in my sleep, marathons through a thick forest that scratched and tripped me at every step.  As soon as I woke up this time and saw Agents Wade and Spencer standing to my left, my doctor at the foot of my bed glowering at them, my eyes just kind of glazed over.

“Christabelle, can you hear me?” asked Agent Wade.  “Did he ever give you a name, even a pseudonym, to address him with?  A nickname?”

I stared past his left shoulder towards the window, where the sun shone in as if nothing had ever happened.  The world had kept turning while I was gone. I knew that.  He’d made sure of it.

Agent Wade’s mouth pulled to one side and he took a slow breath, which he then let out of his nose before looking sideways at Agent Spencer.  The slightly older man returned the irritated look and then fixed on me again.

“How about the house?  Is there anything you can think of that might help us locate it?  Anything at all, it doesn’t matter how big or small.”

“I don’t know.”

“Ms. Jayne, it’s important you help us out here.  You don’t want him to get away with it, do you?  You don’t want people to think you made this all up, right?”

My face contorted in a wince and I covered myself up with my hands as the tears began to flow and sobs shook my body.  Doctor Linford slammed his clipboard down on the rails at the bottom of my bed.

“That’s enough of that, Agents.  I’m going to have to ask you to leave so my patient can get some rest.”

“Rest?  It’s been two days and we’ve got a job to do, Doctor.  I don’t need to remind you who you’re talking to,” said Agent Spencer.

“First of all,” Doctor Linford gestured around the room, “this room, this building, is
my
jurisdiction. 
I
am in charge here.  Not you.  I’ve dealt with far more experienced agents than yourselves and I know the protocol.  I know who to call to discuss your conduct.”

The FBI agents, as far as I could glean from between my fingers and behind my tears, looked shell-shocked at the doctor’s statement and shuffled around a bit uneasily.

“Second of all,” the doctor continued, “this young woman is going to need a lot more than two days before she’s rested.  She’s presented with exhaustion and dehydration to a degree I’ve never personally treated before, multiple lacerations and contusions, she’s showing signs of drug withdrawal…”

“What drugs?” interrupted Agent Spencer.

“The results aren’t back from the lab yet.”

“We’re going to need samples of the bloodwork.”

“Of course.  On top of that, she’s been gone for almost a year and a half, and she’s indicated there was physical abuse…”

“No evidence of rape though?” asked Agent Wade, and I flinched.

“Not.  Recently,” Doctor Linford said through gritted teeth.  “The fact is that Ms. Jayne has endured where most wouldn’t, including the rest of us in this room.  That’s my professional opinion based on the examinations done so far.  Nobody would fake this, few could survive doing it.”

“But you said there was no reason for her memory loss,” said Agent Spencer.

“No
physical
reason has turned up but, and mind this is not my area of specialty, from a psychological perspective it’s entirely possible,
likely even
, that her mind has blocked out certain details due to not being able to face the reality of it.  It’s a survival mechanism, and that’s exactly what Christabelle is.  A survivor.  Now, I repeat, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.  I’ll contact you when Ms. Jayne is ready to answer some more questions.”

“We won’t be far away.”

“I don’t doubt it.”

As the two of them left, I slid my hands down my face to wipe at the tears and sucked air in through my teeth as I accidentally touched one of my cuts.  I finished the job with one finger of each hand.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

Doctor Linford circled to the side of my bed and pulled up a chair, taking my hand in his own.  He gestured in the direction of the departed FBI agents and shook his head.

“Try not to worry about them.  I have a sneaking suspicion this might be Agent Wade’s first case.  Spencer isn’t much older himself.  They haven’t been through the real tough stuff yet, they haven’t seen the kinds of things we have.”

“We?” I asked.

“You’ve been to war, Christabelle.  So have I.  I’ve seen what happens to young men and women when they’re plucked out of their lives and suddenly death, their own mortality, is all around them.  They look like you.  The ones that make it.  You’re gonna make it too.”

“I guess.”

I wished I had his conviction, but it was still hard to believe that any of this was actually happening.  I might have just come down with some crazy illness and I might be hallucinating this whole thing from back in the room I’d spent the last nineteen months,
nineteen months
, a prisoner.  The prospect seemed as plausible as my escape.

“I don’t even know if any of this is real.  It seems impossible, you know?”

“Well, that’s perfectly natural.  It’s all going to seem surreal for a while, but I’ve got some news that might help, uh, ground things a bit.”

“What is it?”

“Your family’s here.  Your mom and dad, Amber too.  They’ve been waiting to see you since they arrived yesterday.  Your sister has been quite… uh… vocal about it.  Do you think you’re ready to see them?”

I felt the blood drain from my face.  I’d thought about my family since arriving at the hospital, of course, but between the police, then the FBI, the doctors, and the exhaustion, they had still seemed like a distant possibility.

Now that the time had come, the prospect of seeing them was a lot scarier than I ever thought it would be.  What would they see when they met me?  Not the daughter and sister they’d always known, the girl they had ‘buried’ sometime last year, that was for sure.  Just some broken thing to take pity on?  My heart sank at that prospect, but it wasn’t like I wanted to avoid them.

“OK.”

“Good.  Good.  I’ll go get them.”

Doctor Linford let go of my hand with one last reassuring pat and disappeared behind the curtain that surrounded my bed.  I could hear his footsteps receding out the door and down the hall until they merged with the general hospital hubbub.

My heart was fluttering nervously in my chest when, a few minutes later, I heard a different set of footsteps, lighter but far more rapid, rise above the background noise.  I was just about to reach for the remote that controlled the inclination of the bed when I heard a voice I hadn’t heard in a lifetime.

“Where is she?  Which room?  This one?  This one?”

Amber was talking as fast as she was running, and she was getting closer.  My hands were shaking when I heard the steps halt just on the other side of the curtain and pause for a moment before a timid hand pulled the edge back just far enough for a face I recognized to peek in.

As soon as she saw me, Amber burst through so fast she was almost a blur, and when she hugged me she was almost on the bed with me, as if she couldn’t get close enough from the floor itself.  The hug was so tight that my whole body ached, but it was
real
.  My sister’s arms were all around me for the first time in
forever
.

It was only a few seconds later when my mom and dad came through the curtains as well, but I was completely blinded by tears already.  I saw their shapes rush to either side, vying for space in the hug, and I was surrounded by their love.

They were saying things I couldn’t understand, and it took me a few moments to realize it was because
I
was sobbing so much, drowning out their words.  I squeezed them so hard I thought I might make them burst.

“You made it, Christie, you made it,” said my dad.

“I love you!” Amber’s voice was muffled against my hospital gown.

My mom was about as capable of words as I was.  I hadn’t felt anything like this hug in so long, I had begun to doubt that such things even existed anymore.

Dean

Today was the day.  Christie’s homecoming.  I woke up an hour before my alarm went off and tried to snooze until it was time to get up, but I couldn’t manage it.  I was buzzing even if it wasn’t.

The tips of my fingers and toes were tingling and every time I closed my eyes, I saw her. Not like the still frame from the video clip on the news, but the way she had been back in school.  The
real
her.

I was so excited that when the alarm finally did go off, I leapt out of bed and I felt like spiking the damn thing.  Today was a touchdown, today was a victory for the good guys.  Christie was coming home.

King, my German Shepherd, picked up on my excitement and peered over the bottom of my bed with his head tilted to one side.  I could hear his tail swishing on the floor, out of sight.

I scampered around the corner and rubbed his neck vigorously on both sides, capping it off with a few solid pats to the ribcage.  King snorted and I laughed, heading to the kitchen with him following almost close enough to trip me, his head tilted up and tail wagging a mile a minute.

He stayed close as I bent down to pick up his water bowl and sniffed me enthusiastically, as if dogs could perhaps smell when their owners have finally cracked.  Apparently detecting no insanity, he let out a tentative sound halfway between a whine and a growl and followed up with the quietest of barks, almost like another snort, like he was testing the waters.

King had not quite shaken the excitability of his puppyhood yet, though he sometimes managed to pull off some classically dignified German Shepherd poses.  He seemed to be asking if, maybe, it was OK to bark inside today.  I couldn’t blame him.  You don’t ask, you don’t get, after all.

I looked at him sideways as I poured water into the silver bowl and smirked.  “Go on then.”

He did, and I put his refreshing drink back down in its regular spot, hearing the ‘schlop, schlop, schlop’ as I went back to my room and put my running gear on.  Police employment came with gym membership to one of the big chains, but as there were no branches in Warfields, it was a pretty useless perk.

King was waiting at the front door when I emerged from my room again.  He knew the drill.  I filled my water bottle and we headed outside.

My breath puffed out, barely visible in front of me in the pre-dawn light, and King padded silently at my side, keeping pace easily.  I felt like I could run at full speed forever, like I could chase down the sun and tell it to hurry up.  Didn’t it know what was happening today?

I led King along our usual route, breaking into occasional sprints that didn’t faze him in the slightest, and ended up at the park.  I sat on the ground for a moment, catching my breath.  King was panting too, perhaps out of sympathy more than being tired.

I squirted some water into my mouth and then squirted some in his general direction.  He snapped at the airborne stream a few times and managed to get some down.

“Free time, boy,” I said.

King wandered from tree to tree, taking it all in, as I went through a basic routine – some push-ups, crunches, and pull-ups from a conveniently placed branch.   I took my spot back on the ground and the two of us watched the sun come up. I closed my eyes against the glare and felt that first touch of warmth.

A few minutes later, we jogged home at a much slower pace.  My working day was going to kick off with a big meeting where Captain Lewin was going to lay out the plan for crowd control.  We were expecting a big media turnout, and of course most of the town was going to be standing on Christie’s parents’ street cheering.

*****

We arrived at the Jayne residence a full four hours before Christie was due, and there were already news vans camped outside.  Only her younger sister, Amber, was home when we turned up.  Mr. and Mrs. Jayne were going to travel with Christie and an escort of state troopers, who would also help us with crowd control.

The two FBI agents, who had also been part of the meeting first thing this morning, were walking around importantly, talking to each other through earpieces and pointing at trees before carefully inspecting them.  They were going to be in ‘elevated positions’, I prayed not actually
up
a tree, so they could have a good overview of the crowd.

They said there was a possibility her attacker might try to take advantage of this well-advertised public appearance by either making sure Christie never did recall any more details of her ordeal, or simply as a sick way of reliving the pain he had inflicted on his victim.

I saw Amber standing on the veranda and chewing her fingernails as she watched the hustle and bustle of the media and law enforcement each setting things up to their own agenda.  Climbing the steps, I stood to the side and faced out to see things from her perspective.

“Not long now, Amber.  Last word was they were just crossing the state line and everything was going smoothly.  Don’t let all this worry you.” I waved at the general mass of people in front of her house.  “It’s not likely that anything unexpected will happen.  Everything’s going to be OK.”

“Is it?”

Amber snapped out of her reverie and shot me a look as if I didn’t know what the hell I was talking about and should shut the hell up, but then her features softened.  She mulled me over for a moment.

“Dean, right?”

“Technically Officer Hawking at the moment, but yeah, Dean.”

“I think you were in Christie’s year?  Football player?”

“Yeah I was. I know Christie.”

Amber studied my face for a moment, and then her eyes dropped to my shoes before folding her arms and turning towards the road again.

“Knew her,” she whispered.

“What’s that?”

“You
knew
her.  You haven’t seen her yet, have you?”

“No, today will be the first time, but I remember her well.  I still know her.”

Amber shook her head.  “No, Dean.  She’s back… but she’s not back, you know?”

I glanced towards the street, where townspeople were starting to line up as close as they could.  Some were carrying banners to unfurl and hold aloft later on, some were carrying kids, and all were looking a lot more hopeful than Amber.  Reaching out, I put what I hoped was a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

“A lot has happened but if I
ever
knew Christie, and I think I did, then she’s going to pull through.  I believe that, Amber.”

“She’s different,” Amber said quietly.

“It’s up to all of us to help her through this.  One day at a time, OK?  First day, she’s going to turn up and rush straight inside.  You just make sure to open the door for her and close it right behind her.  The media are going to be loud, it’s the only volume setting they have, so we want to get her inside as soon as possible.  Then, I understand, your parents are going to come out and make a statement.  You stay with her, alright?”

Amber nodded.

The next hour passed quickly with last minute preparations until we received word that Christie and her entourage were inside the town limits.  The information miraculously seemed to spread throughout the crowd and even with all the extra support, we had a hard time making sure they stayed behind the boundaries we’d set.

When I saw the state trooper on his motorcycle come around the corner, followed by a black car, a cruiser, and two more officers on motorcycles, my heart leapt.  She was here.

My designated spot was right by the gate to make sure Christie, her parents, and her police escort came through, but nobody else.  The convoy stopped in front of the house, and one of the state troopers went to the rear door while the other two assisted my colleagues on either side.

First out was Christie’s dad, who stood to one side and then stopped, looking back to the car.  From my vantage point by the gate I could see straight inside, so when the next person shuffled to the door, I knew exactly who it was.

All my optimism from this morning threatened to melt away when I saw the look on her face.  She was no longer dirty, bleeding and kneeling at the edge of a forest in a car park, but she still looked just as badly hurt.

More than that, when a deafening cheer went up from the crowd, I could have sworn that she looked
ashamed
of herself.  I hated to think what must have happened to her to put that look on her face, to dull that spark in her eye.  I would have given anything to see her smile.

A lump rose in my throat at the thought and I realized that, even after all these years, even after my relationship with Kathryn, Christie still had a piece of my heart.  Maybe a big piece.

The state trooper reached inside the car and threw a blanket over Christie as she emerged, followed quickly by her mother, and the four of them walked hurriedly towards me.  I unlatched the gate and closed it behind them, barely resisting the urge to pick Christie up and hold her in my arms, to carry her the rest of the way.

The cameras flashed at a frenzied pace, and the reporters’ questions merged in to one ear-splitting cacophony.  I cast my eyes over them with contempt as I kept a look out for anybody looking to break ranks.

They didn’t know how special she was.  They were interested in her story over so many others because she was beautiful, a face that made a good backdrop for the news presenters.  They couldn’t remember the girl behind the tragedy, but I couldn’t
forget
.