Back to You (Sequel to Take Me Away From Here)

Chapter 18

"In the closet, there's a jewelry box." I say, trying to appease them into leaving us alone. The small man smiles, before walking that way. I squeeze Tim's hand, wanting this moment to pass faster. The man leaves the closet, sifting through drawers once more. We sit in painful silence, while the taller of the two continues to point his gun toward us. The other starts toward the bathroom, jiggling the handle. "There's nothing valuable in there." I let out, while he narrows his eyes. "Our kids... they're in there." I admit, hoping they'll move away. The two look at each other, before the taller man takes charge. 

"Get them to come out, and move them to another room. Keep the door open" The taller man orders me. I do as he says, knocking on the door gently. Audrey hesitantly opens the door, causing them all to funnel out. She sobs quietly, while Gracie holds her tightly to her side. Maggie follows closely behind them, making sure not to look at the men. I take them into the guest room down the hall. They break down a little harder once they get safely into the room. I stand, unsure whether or not I should stay with them, or go to Tim. I hear them raise their voices down the hall, making me grow even more tense. I step into the hall, listening in. 

"Where are the fucking drugs?" The shorter man orders. 

"It's been a decade since I--" Tim begins to defend, before I hear a loud smacking sound. 

"We were told you'd have drugs." The tall man spits out, while I hear Tim begin to panic. 

"I don't know who told you, but I haven't had drugs in my house in over a decade." He restates, before another loud smack. I carefully make my way to the end of the hall, seeing that Tim's pinned onto the floor, the barrel of the riffle against his chest. 

"Tell me where the hell you keep the drugs!" The taller man screams loudly, making me jump. I can see Tim's sweating. 

"I told you, I don't use anymore. There's nothing here." He says, staying consistent. The tall man fumes with frustration, before suddenly moving the gun down toward his left leg. He fires twice, completely winding me. Tim screeches, one bullet striking his thigh while another rests over his knee. "Fuck!" Tim lets out, while I slowly back away from the door. I rush back toward the guest room, quietly shutting the door. I cringe, as I hear the lock click louder than I hoped. 

"Closet." I demand, motioning toward the sliding doors. They scurry toward the closet, before loud stomps fill the hallway. I take a few deep breaths, jumping when someone bangs their fist against the door. They pick this lock too, forcing the door open. 

"I told you to leave the goddamn door open." The tall man shouts, while I hear Tim groaning down the hall. I panic, wondering if playing dumb would work. 

"I thought you meant the door to the master." I remark, trying to make it convincing. He narrows his eyes at me, before glancing around the room. 

"Where are the girls?" He questions, walking around the bed. I shrug, not wanting to give it away or lie. I cringe at my own response, knowing that it wasn't the best move. The man suddenly raises the rifle, making me squeeze my eyes shut. 

He fires three bullets into my torso, two striking near my chest, another into my stomach. I fall onto the ground, the gunshots deafening. My ears ring for a moment, before fading, Tim's screams filling the air. I can hear him struggling against the other man while shrieking. 

"Faith!" He screeches, before I hear another shot. I shut my eyes tightly, feeling like that shot wasn't one destined for me. Tim's screaming loses it's power, as the bullet silences him. I stare up at the ceiling, hearing myself wheeze as I feel lightheaded. The man stands over me, looking down at me with a confused expression. He rests the rifle against my chest, like he's thinking about finishing the job. 

"Sorry sweetheart." The man says, before pressing the rifle between my eyes. I stare right at him, praying my gaze will change his mind.

 A sudden punching sound surrounds me in a coat of blackness, as my mind begins to race. I can hear myself breathe, but I can't see a thing. I can feel myself moving, while feeling like I'm walking on air. A small sliver of light shows itself, before it gradually expands. 

It extends to where I can see myself lying on the ground in a puddle of blood, a bullet in the center of my forehead. I'm not breathing, or moving in any way. I'm completely lifeless... I stagger toward the doorway, hearing groaning coming from that direction. As I peek my head out, I see Tim dragging himself from the master, a small trail of blood staining the carpet behind him. A bullet pierced through his bum leg at the thigh, making it impossible for him to walk or crawl. He's in extreme pain, but that's all secondary to him. He doesn't know he's dragging himself through hell just to view his slaughtered wife. 

He gradually makes his way to the doorway, his fingertips and elbows raw from the journey. He's out of breath, and tears are running down his cheeks as he painfully whimpers with every breath. His body appears like it's growing heavier as time passes, making the battle even harder. When he rounds the corner, his eyes force their way up toward me, unable to see the wound to my head from this angle. 

"Babe?" He calls out, his voice breaking. He gains speed, seeming to find a second wind. He reaches my side, completely collapsing. He lies on his stomach for a moment, panting loudly. He then lifts himself up to sit, catching a glimpse of the damage done to me. He winces at first look, his mouth gaping open slightly. He shakes his head, his skin seeming to pale out. "Oh baby..." He lets out, crumbling into tears. He grabs onto me, moving my head onto his lap. He runs his fingers through my hair, before making the painful decision to check for a pulse. He holds his fingers against my neck for a couple seconds, before his shoulders start to quake. "No... Damnit..." He breaks down. He clings tighter to me, holding me against his chest, my limp arms hanging down. He squeezes me, like he's afraid that loosening his grip will cause me to slip away. "I'm so sorry..." He cries out, wailing softly while cradling me. He kisses the side of my forehead, keeping his lips pressed firmly against my skin. "Wake up, baby..." He sobs, while I remain motionless. "Baby, wake up..." He demands, looking down at me. 

"Faith, wake up" Tim says, snapping me out of the dream. He leans over me, stress on his face. He lays his hands on my cheek, while I try to catch my breath, the dream having stolen it from me. "You were thrashing around a bit, honey." He says, running his fingers through my hair. I look up at him, debating whether or not I should burden him with the nightmare. I'm sure it'd only shake him up. 

"It's fine... just a nightmare." I reassure him, seeing him spare me a smile. He leans down and kisses me, before resting his head back down on the pillow, his arms wrapped around me.