Buried (Bailey Roberts Trilogy #1) Editing

30: .45 These Dreams [3rd Draft]

Chapter Thirty: .45 These Dreams

When the shit really hits the fan it's funny what people end up thinking about. Such mundane things—things that shouldn't be important at the time— like Damien's flirting or the inappropriate jokes, but it was all pretend. Pretending that everything was okay, and maybe that's how people deal with bad situations. If we didn't joke we'd crack, but Bailey couldn't think anymore.

"Bailey, that was a gunshot," Matt whispered.

All she could do was stare at the open bedroom door and nod. Matt walked towards her and reached for Bailey's hand. She clamped down tightly, crushing his fingers together. Her whole body was shivering like she'd just gotten out of a freezer.

Matt, still holding Bailey's hand, walked forward and peeked out the door. "I can't see anything," Matt said. "Bailey, get Sam and go into the closet. I'm going to—"

Bailey dropped his hand and pushed him back towards the bed. She ran out the door and quietly shut it before tiptoeing to the top of the stairs. The first thing she saw was the red stain on the white carpeted stairs pooling around Damien.

"There you are!"

Bailey flinched at the shrill, exaggerated happiness in the male voice. He stood over Damien's body, dressed in green scrubs and blood splattered tennis shoes. In his right hand he clutched something small, shiny, and black.

"Slowly come down the stairs," he said.

"Y-you're my nurse," Bailey stuttered and tried to calm her breathing.

He shrugged. "Bingo. Imagine my surprise when I had to take care of you after I tried to run you off the road. I was pretty ticked you didn't die." He paused and gestured down at Damien, "If this fucking kid hadn't been up your ass I could've finished it then!"

Her lips trembled and tears pooled down her cheeks as her teeth chattered from shivering. The smell of burning paper and firecrackers was thick as she glanced down at Damien. She bit her lip as she saw the small movement of his chest rising and falling.

"Come down the stairs. Don't make me repeat myself again."

Slowly, she took a step and another until she was standing over Damien. Bailey watched as he struggled to keep his eyes open. "Please stay awake," Bailey pleaded with him. "Don't leave me, okay?"

"Come on! You're coming with me. I'm not gonna let a little bitch like you ruin everything for me," he said with a snarl. He ran the fingers of his free hand through his straw colored hair. "You just couldn't let things go could you? I'm not the killer in this chapter. This wasn't supposed to be me. Damn it! Come here!"

Bailey flinched away from Nurse Andrew's hand and fell to her knees next to Damien. With both of her hands she pushed against the bleeding wound in his shoulder. Damien's cry ended in rapid coughs and spittle's of blood slid down his jaw.

"I don't have time for this! Get up," he snapped. "It's time for him to die anyway. I can't have any witnesses."

It was that very thought that made Bailey glance up in time to see Derrick with a metal baseball bat. She'd never been so happy to see him. The sickening crack of the bat hitting Nurse Andrew's skull echoed. Derrick dropped the bat and he jolted forward, falling to the floor. He hugged Bailey from her side, careful not to pull her hands from Damien's bleeding wound.