Stalk Her

Chapter 7

OHMYGAWD

I'M POSTING!

IT'S A MIRACLE!!

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*Caleb's POV*

"Caleb."

. . .

"Caleb."

. . .

"Caleb."

. . .

"Caleb, wake up."

My eyes opened. Leaning over top of my bed, was some kid I didn't recognize. He had flat black hair, blue eyes (or were they green...?) and he looked very worried.

"You want a autograph, kid?" I asked. He rolled his eyes.

"I'm Luke." He explained. "Ally's sister."

"How's she doing?" I probed. The awful images of that day entered my mind again.

The pain.

The truck.

Allison looking dead beside me.

I squinted, the bright hospital lights finally taking their effect on me. Stupid lights.

"We don't know."

I choked. Did she die, or something? No, she couldn't have died. She's Allison Jepson; the girl that still continued her gymnastics routine after spraining her leg. The girl that was brave enough to be a BB gun tester. She took those bullets like a man.

"Did she..." I trailed off, nervously.

"No. Well, we hope not. She's missing." Luke explained slowly. My eyes widened in horror.

"Missing?" I repeated. "How?"

I sat up, but Luke pushed me down. God, that kid was strong for his age. Well, I was crippled. He got strength by default.

"We don't know how she's missing, or when she left, but you gotta stay down. You are a mess." Luke told me.

I glanced down. Scratches, bruises, casts... Ooh, are those stitches on my hand? I went to touch them but Luke slapped my hand away.

"Don't touch it." He warned.

"Okay, nurse Nancy." I muttered sarcastically.

Luke scowled. "Just don't worry about Ally, okay?"

Why would I worry about Allison? It's not like I'm her friend or anything. More like acquainted through almost dying. If that makes any sense.

Just as Luke was about to leave, my mother stepped in. It had taken her six hours to fly here to see me. My mom... She's sorta a big thing. I don't want to go into details, but let's just say she's so fancy and extreme that I actually had to fight the urge to call her 'Mrs Marsh.'

"Oh, Caleb, honey!" She shrieked, running over to my bed. Luke gave me a look, something like: Good luck with this creepy lady! Then he left my room.

Way to use man-power, dude.

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The operative rubbed his chin in a mixture of amusement and triumph. The girl sat in the cell, hands tied behind her back, and a gag in her mouth. She kept moaning and groaning and grunting and she mainly tried to move around. A squirmy one she is.

He laughed. "So, your main goal is to try and waste all of your energy before I can have some fun?"

She fixed her perfect emerald eyes on him, glaring with all her mite. This just caused another hoard of laughter.

"It's okay, beauty queen. Help is 43% likely to be one the way."

He chuckled deeply before strolling away.

******

~ Emily