The pain in Ben's head was overwhelming, feeling a warmth cascading from his forehead as he tried to establish where he was. He reached down to grab his radio from his belt, using his hand to feel around but realizing quickly that he had forgotten it on his desk. He couldn't believe that he had made such a rookie mistake, noticing that all of the internal hard wiring of the cruiser was broken and displaced by the crash. He cursed under his breath, pushing aside the now deflated air bag that had been set loose as he undid his seat belt. His vehicle door was slightly crumpled from the impact, using his boot to shove it open as he stumbled out onto the concrete below. His vision was blurry, seeing double of everything for a minute before blinking it away. The road way was empty, except now there were a few lights flickering on in houses nearby as they were called to the attention of the accident. Ben then remembered that he had hit a man, limping around the side of his cruiser so that he could get a better look back at the road. He saw a body lying on the ground clearly unresponsive, stumbling over to him as quickly as he could. As soon as Ben approached he knew that the man was dead, sighing as he knelt down beside him and pressed his fingers against the man's jugular, hoping for any faint sign of a pulse. There was nothing. He patted down the man to find a wallet, pulling it out and checking the identification to find that the man was Gordon Zachariah, about to turn eighty-six in only two months. He was an organ donor and lived right here in Harrow Hall, other than that Ben knew nothing about the man that he had accidentally killed.
Ben had to report the accident, he had to find a way to let the others know that there were two suspects on the loose driving a Chevy truck down what he could only assume was county road one, which led past the fairgrounds and Lake Newberry. He had to get an ambulance over as soon as possible, checking off his list of protocols for such an incident. His mind was going blank, not only had he forgotten his radio like someone who was fresh out of the academy, but he hadn't thought to alert the others before leaving the station. He wanted to be a hero, he wanted to see the action – except he had seen the action and ended up killing a man. He shrunk back, looking at the dead man laying on the cold concrete whose life he had ended. Ben panicked, biting at his bottom lip as he looked around to see a few people exiting their houses and standing on their porches to get a better look. He couldn't ask them to call the police, that was his job and he was failing at it.
With some hesitation, Ben pulled off his jacket and laid it over top of Gordon's head. He stared at the limp body for longer than he wanted to, finally pulling himself away and limping towards his cruiser. He balanced himself on the rear bumper, tears prickling at his eyes as he begged for forgiveness, saying a prayer to himself before looking over to the house in front of him. The light was on but he couldn't see anyone, checking over his shoulder one more time to see the body in the middle of the road. He hobbled up the steps and knocked on the door, waiting for any answer but there was none. After knocking a few more times he tried the door knob and it opened, allowing himself inside while announcing that he was a police officer and that he desperately needed to use the phone. The house was quiet as though there wasn't a soul home, limping his way through the hallway until he turned into the dining room, once more announcing his presence. The first thing he saw was a red high heel laying vacant on the floor before his eyes drifted further, seeing the bare foot that it had once been attached to. He carefully walked around the dining room table to see a woman laying face first on the floor, a puddle of blood like a halo around her head. He instinctively backed away, running his hand through his hair nervously as he looked around. What had happened?
At first he thought about leaving the house and yelling out for help like a child who was lost, but he had to be a man now and help this woman. He stepped forward and knelt down beside her, asking her if she was okay while gently tapping her shoulder. Her skin was still warm and slightly damp as though she had been perspiring not too long ago. Ben tapped her shoulder again but there was no response, leaning down to press his fingers against her neck to check for a pulse. He couldn't feel anything, but his hands were shaking so much that they could have been interfering with his ability to feel any trace of life.
"Ma'am, I'm just going to turn you over, okay?" Ben announced, weaving his arms underneath the woman's head to protect it as he used all of his strength to turn her over, gently setting her down on her back.
When the woman was laying on her back Ben was able to get a better view of her face, it was Mrs. Elaine Baker – his teacher from second grade who had always told him he had the courage to do whatever he set his mind to. He had loved Mrs. Baker as a child and the fact that she cared so deeply for all of her students like they were her own children, always going around first thing in the morning after the national anthem to tell each child what was special about them. He had almost forgotten all about her until this moment, having wondered where life took her all these years. He knew he had seen her around town, but never thought to ask her how she was or even to tell her how much her words had meant to him. He regretted that now. Once more he felt for her pulse, searching every inch of her skin for anything to say that she was alive – but he continued to search without any success. His heart broke as he stared down at this lovely woman, wondering if it had been the crash outside of her house that had disoriented her. She had probably lost her balance, Ben thought, and by the blood on the edge of the dresser she had hit her head when falling. He decided to try looking for a pulse one more time, hoping that maybe his nerves had gotten the best of him or that he had forgotten his first aid classes and wasn't properly placing his fingers. But he continued to look for any sign of life – there was nothing.
~~~
John took a sharp turn off of Shirley Street and onto the gravel road of county road one, breathing deep as he wondered if the elderly man had gotten hit by the police cruiser. Hadley had her hand clasped over her mouth, staring straight out of the windshield as Atheson shuffled around in the back seat. John wanted to pull the truck over and tell them to take it, his heart pounding ferociously in his chest as he looked over to Hadley.
"Was this worth it?" John mumbled, turning his attention back to the road as he brought his hand up to swipe away some of the sweat on his brow. "You have done irreparable damage, Hadley. Fletcher should have figured something out instead of letting it all come to this. Are you proud of what you've done tonight?"
"No, I'm not," Hadley snapped back, sniffling as she turned her head away so that John couldn't see her face. "I'm not proud at all, John. I didn't know what else I was supposed to do, this seemed like the right thing."
"People got hurt, Hadley, did you think no one was going to? What happened in the bank – did you have to kill someone?"
"No, I didn't," She whispered, her voice cracking.
"Would you have?"
Hadley sobbed, shaking her head. Atheson heard her crying and snapped his head up to John, leaning forward to smack him in the side of the head. "Knock it off," Atheson said. "She didn't do anything wrong."
"Really? So she didn't rob a bank, she didn't force me to get involved, she didn't make me drive down the road in a police chase? Tell me how this isn't wrong," John replied, not bothering to look back at Atheson. He was disgusted with the very sight of Atheson's face.
"Can we please stop talking about this?" Hadley sobbed.
John shook his head, taking his foot off of the gas as they rolled onto county road four, gravel kicking up under the wheels. "Do you think I wouldn't mention this to you every single day in your safe little cabin? Did you think I was going to be okay with this at the end of the day and accept that it all had to happen like you wanted?"
"It's not always going to be like this," Hadley said, covering her face with her hands as she continued to hyperventilate between sobs.
Atheson once more reached forward and knocked John in the head, causing John to hit the wheel a little so that they skidded on the road for a moment before he steadied the vehicle. John took a deep breath in, heat burning up inside of him as he felt the anger persist.
"Tell me how it's going to be, Hadley – tell me! How's it going to get better? You think they won't find you, you think Fletcher is going to walk away unscathed – you think you're going to walk away?" John was now yelling, gripping the steering wheel so tight that his knuckles were blanching. John saw the red bridge approaching, but turned his attention back to Hadley. Atheson yelled something from the back seat but John refused to listen, focusing all of his attention on Hadley. "You are a criminal, Hadley, and you'll live with this for the rest of your---"
"Watch out!" Atheson screamed from the back seat, causing John to look forward to see a woman standing in the middle of the road.
John had no time to react, the woman simply stepped out of the way as John once more swerved to miss the pedestrian, but this time went flying into the ditch by the red bridge, going down the long slope until the truck rolled on its side and smashed the windows. Hadley and John had been wearing their seat belts, but Atheson wasn't. The air bags deployed and cushioned both John and Hadley, but Atheson was ejected from the vehicle through the back window and was now laying in the bed of the truck. John's head spun as he tried to recalibrate himself, feeling blood coming out from his nose as he felt his face. His arm was very sore, almost sure that it was broken. He took a deep breath, reaching over to unbuckle his seat belt as he leaned against the door of the truck which was now on its side. Once he was free from the belt, he looked over to see Hadley dangling from her seat belt, clearly unconscious. John reached over, nudging her gently.
"Hads," He whispered through a coarse throat, coughing up a little bit of blood after he did. He took a moment as pain rippled through his body, breathing his way through it before once more tapping Hadley. "Are you okay?"
Hadley groaned softly, bringing her hands up to her face to feel around. "What happened?"
"We were in an accident," John replied, turning himself around so that now he was perpendicular with the ground, trying to wrap his arms safely around Hadley so that he could undo her seat belt and catch her. He ignored the throbbing pain in his arm, securing Hadley as he held her in his arms. John looked over to the back seat to see that Atheson wasn't there, instead he was in the back bed of the truck not moving. "We need to get help," John said, steadying his feet underneath him as he stood up to carefully pull himself out of the truck, balancing himself on the side as he turned back to help Hadley out.
For a moment she resisted his help, finally giving in and taking his only good hand. He helped her out of the truck before hopping down off the side, once more making sure that she made it out safely. She looked around, leaning against the underbelly of the truck as it dawned on her that someone was missing.
"Where's Atheson?" She said, panic taking over as she hobbled around to the back side of the truck, looking to the bed of the truck to see Atheson laying inside. She screamed and quickly made her way over to him, gently placing her hands on either side of his face. "Atheson, baby, wake up!"
John followed behind and watched as Hadley took Atheson's side, tears streaming down her face as she begged for him to wake up. After a minute or two, Atheson let out a low guttural sound but his body remained unmoving. Hadley cried out for help, but John shook his head. "Tell me now, Hadley – was it worth it?" John asked, reaching down with his good arm to pick up the knife that Atheson had held across his throat. It was the same knife that had been passed down to Fletcher, Hadley and Atheson must have stolen it.
Hadley snapped her neck back at John, tears and blood marked her youthful face. "Shut up, John!"
"You tell me that this is what you had planned out first, that this is what you wanted. You think I'm actually going to play along with your charade, that I'm not going to tell the police what you've done? I don't care if that means I'll have to go to prison, I don't want to have anything to do with this life you're living," John spat back, shoving the knife into the loop of his belt.
"You really think you'd be safe in prison, Johnathan? You think the men who are after my dad wouldn't come for you? They know about you – all about you. They know about your stupid girlfriend, they know where you're staying, they even know about your mom!" Hadley yelled back, leaving Atheson's side so that she could stand in front of John.
"You leave her out of this," John snapped, holding his hurt arm in place as the two stood face to face.
"No, because that's not how it works anymore, John, the second you got involved is the second you wrote away all of your freedom. You are just as much in this as I am," Hadley said, leaning forward to shove at John's chest. John stumbled backwards for a moment, clinging to his broken arm. She stepped forward again, bridging the distance between them. "And if you think you can bring me down with you, you're wrong."
In an instant Hadley lurched forward and grabbed the knife from John's belt, shoving him down to the ground by grabbing his broken arm. He screamed out in pain, hitting the ground with a loud thud. Hadley held the knife in her shaking hands, pointing it at John. He scattered backwards, pulling himself up on his feet as he began to run towards the stream that led to Lake Newberry, unable to run fast enough as Hadley quickly followed behind. She was screaming something at him, but he tuned her out, running up the shore of Lake Newberry before losing his balance, sliding down the side of it. Hadley quickly followed behind, jumping on top of him as the two wrestled in the lapping waves of the lake. John used his good hand to grab at Hadley's that was trying to plunge the knife down towards him, gritting his teeth as he used all his power to fight her off. Slowly she began to overpower him, lowering the knife down towards his neck.