Good For Gone

Unearthed

I lowered myself into the drain and pulled out my phone.

Pinching the phone between my shoulder and ear I began climbing down to her.

The 911 operator said that they'd send someone immediately and I hung up, finding it hard to talk on the phone and keep from falling on top of Miriam.

I knew not to mess with her too much, especially not her neck, there's no telling what they did to her and I didn't want to make it worse.

Tears stung my eyes, this was my fault. I should have known that he would see through the plan, he seemed to know everything about me anyway.

Her hair covered most of her face, but what I could see of her was bruised and bloodied. How had they even managed to do this in broad daylight?

"Miriam?" I asked, hoping she might make some noise that indicated she was alive.

She stayed silent so I reached out and gingerly pressed my fingers to her neck.

To my relief, I could feel the murmur of a pulse under the purple skin.

The sound of sirens got closer until they were roaring in my ears.

"We're in here!" I called.

I don't know if they even heard me, but I saw some faces appear above us a few seconds later.

They helped me out of the drain first so they could get down to her.

"Did you pry this up yourself?" One of the paramedics asked.

I nodded and tucked my bloody fingertips behind my back.

But he saw them anyway, "Here let's go clean those up. It'll be quick, I promise."

I went with him so I wouldn't be in any body's way.

I sat down in the back of the furthest ambulance that was parked down the block.

"That's impressive actually, those things are heavy." The medic said as he gathered stuff.

"Thanks," I said, "My hands agree with you."

"They're not too bad, I'll just wash them off a bit."

I sat there silently biting my tongue as he rubbed my fingers down with water and alcohol.

As I was sitting there a police officer approached us, "You're the one who called 911 right?"

"Yeah."

"So how'd you find out she was in the sewer?" She asked.

"I got a really weird text from her phone and I knew she would be in this area." I tried to make it sound somewhat nonchalant but not heartless.

"In the sewer?"

I shrugged, "Just a hunch."

"A good hunch," she said, "can I see your phone?"

"Yeah, you have to get it from the pocket." I twisted my side towards her and she slid the phone out of my jacket pocket, "Her name's Miriam R in my contacts."

I let her go through what she needed. I didn't know what she thought she would find besides the text I got. But I had nothing to hide, on there at least. Either way, no one was going to figure out what happened. It would be a mystery, just the way he liked it.

She took my phone and disappeared with it so I turned my attention back to my hands. He bandaged them up carefully, careful not to adjutant the already inflamed skin.

"Not too shabby, thanks," I said, admiring his handiwork.

"Don't mention it."

I thanked him again and began wandering towards the group of police, one of which still had my phone.

But as I went to ask for it back I caught a glimpse of something purple.

In one of their hands were a set of very tattered fuzzy purple dice. They were caked in mud and ripping at the seems, but I would have recognized them anywhere.

I went to ask where they got those but was cut off by the woman with my phone.

"Here you go sweetie," she held it out to me, blocking my path to the man with the dice.

"Thanks,I said, grabbing the phone.

I heard a car pull up to the sidewalk behind me and the woman's face turned towards it.

I followed her eyes to the man emerging from behind a door with tinted windows.

Of course.

"Are you alright sweetie?" He asked as he approached us.

Randall put his hand protectively on my back and smiled at the cop.

"Are you his..." she trailed off, evaluated his hand placement.

"Fiance." He finished for her. I flinched at the word.

"Oh," she sounded surprised, and then in an effort to cover her tracks said, "Sorry, it's just, you're not wearing a ring."

"Were having them resized," he smiled and rubbed my back, "the ring was my grandmother's."

"So you know it's about three hundred years old,," I mumbled.

The cop laughed awkwardly and Randall squeezed my shoulder a little too hard.

"Well make sure she gets home safe."

He smiled at her even wider, "oh, I will."