The Acadia Killer

Chapter 20

The darkness enveloping me as the killer inched closer seemed to turn as black as an eclipse. I knew this was the moment I was going to die, unable to pull my tired body from the mud I seemed to be trapped in. Just as he was about to lunge toward me, I took the one opportunity to scream out a blood curdling sound, the most dramatic I could muster, in hopes that someone – anyone would hear me. But it wouldn't save me in time. He was still coming forward.

My life was flashing before me the way you hear people talk about when they tell the story of a near-death experience. I seemed to suddenly remember a gallery of images from all the major points in my life, all my achievements, certainly all my lowest points, all the people I had ever hurt, and all the opportunities I would regret not taking forever. It was like a fast forwarding movie, but it was so close to coming to an end.

That's when I felt hands on my body. Someone was trying to help me escape the sticky substance I was lying in. And then I heard his voice, telling me it was okay, but it wasn't. How could it be? We were both about to be killed!

Someone kept yelling for me to wake up. It became a desperate plea with strong hands shaking me by my shoulders. Finally, the image of the Acadia Killer in the dark forest disappeared and my view was replaced by a blurred scene in my bedroom at the beach house. Blake was kneeling over me on the mattress, his hands gripping my shoulders and a look of terror in his eyes. I blinked a few times until the scene finally came into focus and I blew out a heavy breath when I realized the experience I'd just had was thankfully just a superior level of ridiculous nightmare.

"It was just a dream," Blake said for probably the twentieth time, concern in his eyes regardless. "Are you okay, Mackenzie?"

I groaned, wiping the sweat from my forehead with the back of my hand and Blake pulled me up into his arms, holding my body against his chest. I glanced at the clock to see it was just after four in the morning and rain was tapping against the windows again.

"Does it ever stop raining this time of year?" I sighed, forcing a light laugh to try to lighten the mood.

I didn't really care about the rain, but the last thing I wanted was for him to ask me about my nightmare. He didn't need to know I'd been dreaming about the Acadia Killer about to put me six feet under.

Blake smiled softly, brushing stray hairs out of my face. "It's not usually this intense. This is one of those exceptional years with extra storms before we get all the snow. Hopefully the excess water helps the foliage colors at least."

I could tell he wanted to ask me what my nightmare had been about, but he also could tell I didn't want to discuss it. Even though I now knew it wasn't real, the image of that man with a knife coming toward me would probably haunt my dreams until he was apprehended.

"Blake?" I yawned, tucking my messy bed hair behind my ears.

"Yes?"

"What did you do with that ring I found out in the woods? The one near the third crime scene," I clarified.

He shook his head. "I'm glad you reminded me. I need to turn it in to evidence. I haven't had a chance yet since I've been with you. I doubt it'll yield much information anyway."

His words sounded convincing, but a part of me knew he wasn't telling me everything. Whether or not that was the truth, I couldn't tell. But I knew there was something more to what he was thinking and why he hadn't turned it over.

"Do you know who it belongs to?" I finally asked the question that had been plaguing me since I saw the way he looked at the item in the hospital. "Is that why you're holding onto it?"

He flashed me a confused look, his brows drawing inward. I didn't want to piss him off, but I did expect a dose of the truth when I asked a question.

"It just seemed like you recognized it when you looked at it in the hospital," I explained.