Hour Of Darkness

CH 15 - "Like Sands Through The Hourglass"

15...Like Sands Through The Hourglass...

The morgue was dim, quiet. The only light drifting out of the small office adjacent to the autopsy room was from a small desk lamp. The assistant M.E. sat at the desk filling out forms, hunched over, head down, thoroughly focused on his task at hand.

Orlando moved quietly past the small office and through the autopsy room to the examination table in the center. A white sheet covered the dead body laying on the table. Orlando peeled the sheet away from the cadaver's face.

“You've been at rest long enough.” Orlando murmured. “But just so we don't lose track of you again...” He withdrew an instrument that resembled an injection gun, but with a wider circular tip. He snapped a tiny round, flat object no bigger than a small watch battery into the tip, carefully turned Alec's head to the right and pressed the tip of the gun against the nape of his neck and squeezed the trigger.

Orlando turned Alec's head back to its original position and pocketed the instrument. He glanced towards the office. The assistant was oblivious to his presence. Orlando looked at the tray next to the exam table. A variety of surgical instruments were laid out on the tray. He picked up a pair of toothed forceps and leaned over Alec's head.

“Time to wake up.” He whispered as he slowly inserted the forceps into one of the bullet holes, digging down deeper and deeper until he reached the bullet lodged in Alec's brain.

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Clarice awoke with a tightness in her chest, her head throbbing. Beside her, Jonathon slept soundly. As she turned over, he shifted and she knew he would be wide awake in a moment's notice if she needed him.

She let him sleep and crawled out of bed. A dark grayness covered the open grounds between the cabin and the tree line, and beneath the trees a heavy darkness. Clarice stood at the bedroom window, staring out at the tall trees, just shadows against a dark gray sky.

Her heart thumped violently against her ribcage. She could feel Aaron again, the way she did back at the campgrounds. It had went away for awhile and she hadn't felt anything. She'd thought that was worse than feeling the bad stuff...but she wondered now if that were true. The anger and rage and torment she could sense in him was tearing her apart. What was happening to her? Was she really feeling what Aaron was feeling? Was he really in hell?

She glanced at Jonathon's sleeping form. He'd said what she was feeling was just her own grief and pain...but she knew the difference between grief and the intimate connection she'd shared with Aaron. And if it wasn't Aaron she was feeling then...

A shuddered rippled through her and she hugged herself tightly. The air inside the bedroom was cold, but it wasn't the chill of the winter night that had her shaking. Was it possible that she was connecting to Alec as she had with Aaron? If Jonathon was right and they had been triplets, then it could happen. But if that was what was happening here...then Alec was the one in hell. His own personal hell. But why did he hate his family so much? To the degree of brutally murdering them? And relentlessly hunting her down?

“Baby, what is it?” Jonathon mumbled, sleep still grogging his senses.

Clarice returned to the bed and crawled beneath the warm blankets, cuddling close to his body. She kissed his forehead and laid his head down on her chest. “Nothing, darling. Go back to sleep.”

“You sure?” He managed softly as sleep drew him back into its embrace.

She held him close and pressed her lips to his hair. “I'm sure.” She murmured. “Everything's fine.” But laying there awake alone, without Jonathon's assurances to comfort her, a numbing fear gripped her heart. Would they make it out of this alive? Or would the nightmare swallow them up as it had Aaron and her parents?