Peripheral Vision: A Supernatural Thriller(2)

“Oh God, please, no!” Grace cried. Panic was setting in now and it gripped her. She began to scream hysterically.

Elizabeth, still pointing the gun at the bleeding boy, made her way to the kitchen phone, and dialed the operator. When she spoke, she almost didn’t recognize her own voice. It was oddly calm, given the present situation. They will be here soon, and Daddy will be alright, she thought as she finished talking to the operator. She hung up the phone and went to her father.

“Daddy?” Tears were now running down Elizabeth's cheeks. At the sound of her voice, Eli's eyes opened and looked up at his daughter's face.

“Lizzy...it's okay. I'm fine. I'm fine… ” With that, all the color left his face, and his eyes locked on his daughter's. “It's okay.” He whispered. Those were his last words. Another Bayard man had died before his 49th birthday. Eli James Bayard was only 48 years old.

Elizabeth's tears suddenly stopped. She exhaled and looked towards the kitchen door. The lanky gunman was starting to move. Her brother was no longer standing over the teenager, but kneeling next to Grace by her father's side. By his dead side. The thought awakened a deep anger inside of her, and a new horrible pain stirred in her belly. Her whole body began to shake with feelings of shock and rage, but somehow, she still tightened her grip on the handgun. Her wobbly legs carried her towards the teenager who was now almost to his feet. He was dazed and bleeding, but saw her coming and took a step backwards. Before he could move another step, Elizabeth was upon him. Her left hand wrapped itself around his neck, her fingernails digging into his fleshy skin. Her right hand brought the warm handled gun up to the boy's head and pressed the barrel to his sweaty forehead. Their eyes met for the second time.

“It's okay,” she said.

Lizzy noticed the boy's pupils grow large, like black marbles, and then she pulled the trigger. The reaction was both sudden and exciting. The back of the boy's head exploded all over Grace's pretty butterfly wallpaper, and the reverb onto Elizabeth's face. The body of their evening visitor fell once again to the floor.

She could feel the warm blood on her face. It was dripping now, running off her nose and onto her blouse. Emotions were pulling her into a myriad of directions, but she knew that she mustn’t turn around. She mustn’t let her family see her like this. Not with all this blood, all this blood, and... this smile. I'm smiling, she thought.

Elizabeth stepped out of the front door and into the cool October night air. The steam was now rising off her warm body, and she could see her breath. The grey mist surrounded her, blurring her outline at the edges. She made her way down the gravel driveway, past the barn, the chicken coop, the machine shed; and continued down towards the river. It was all she could think of. She couldn't let them see all this blood. She needed to wash it off, and wash it away. Send it down the river away from her happy family, away from her… and send this damn smile with it.

The thought of her smiling brought her shaking hand up to her face, almost trying to wipe the smile away. But instead of wiping off her smile, Elizabeth accidentally wiped the blood across her lips and into her open mouth. Without thinking, she swallowed. Like the gunshot just moments before, the reaction was both sudden and exciting. She felt a surge of energy run through her body. It was overwhelming. She dropped to her knees next to the riverbank. Her back arched and her legs and stomach began to spasm involuntarily. She shook all over and then let out a low moan. The feeling was like nothing she'd ever experienced before, and it seemed to clear her mind. She got to her feet, pushed her way through the tall grass that grew up next to the river and waded out into the water. She didn't go far, it wasn't needed. Her hands worked fast as she washed herself clean. Elizabeth then sat down in the river, leaned her head back and let the water run through her hair and over her face- taking away the blood as it went. She was starting to feel okay again. It was all going to be okay. That's when the sound of sirens split through the still silence of the valley and flashing lights lit the way down to the river.





Chapter 2




Signal Hill



1983

“Are there horses there, Mommy?” Asked the little girl with long, espresso colored hair, from the back seat of her father's light blue 1978 Chevy Nova.

Five-year-old Sarah had never ridden a horse. In fact, she had never even seen one before, other than on their television, or in the colorful pictures of her favorite storybook. It was a bedtime story she begged her mommy to read to her every single night before she fell asleep. It was Sarah’s favorite, because her beautiful mother would sit next to her on the bed, smiling, and make all of the animal noises. She was really good at it.

Growing up between the pavement of sidewalks and interestingly named streets of the big city, didn't provide ample opportunities when it came to horse sightings- especially when one’s parents were both constantly working. But things tend to be different in the country, and a trip away from the city lights was just what the doctor had ordered for the little family of three.

Her mother smiled and flipped on the radio. She tuned through the static as she described Aunt Elizabeth's two horses to her wide-eyed daughter. At last, her hand arrived at an audible song, something older, much older sounding. The crackle and pops of the record’s grooves underscored the slow piano riffs of the 1920’s Faz Williams tune that floated out from the car’s speakers.