Trepidation Part 10

That night Rick found a note on his pillow.

"Meet me at the base of the cemetary at 10 am tomorrow. I just want to help."

During this whole experience, Rick had felt fear, he had been scared of what could happen, what was happening, and what he didn't know. But he hadn't felt the fear like this. This was a fear of himself, a fear of whether he would make the right decision. For just a moment Rick thought about the future, wishing that he could jump ahead, just a couple months, having full knowledge of what had happened, still aware, possibly haunted by the situation, but he would be away from the decision at hand. Then something hit him square in the face:

What if this situation was serious enough that in a couple months it wasn't resolved, or worse yet, it had been resolved, with the worst case scenario being the resolution.

Suddenly, Rick fell onto his bed blinded by haunting flashbacks; flashbacks of the knife, the eyes, the room, the man's face, he couldn't escape them, they came back like a flashback in a movie, with fuzzy edges and a red tint over everything he saw. He rolled over and over on his bed the memories searing through him like the eyes had just a few days ago.

~~~~~~~~

A surreal feeling overtook Rick as he walked past the headstones. He wasn't concentrating on walking, thinking, moving, breathing, his body was just...going, functioning, moving. Like an oily machine in a factory, oblivious to the world around, he walked towards the base of the cemetary free of thought, free of emotion. And yet, his body ached with the stress and mental strain the last week had brought him.

He saw the tan Acura parked at the base of the hill that Rick lived on. He moved toward it, preparing himself to run, or fight, or scream. He opened the passenger's side door, and said to the once again hooded man, sitting in the driver's seat,

"You tell me your name, and tell me if you work with ABW, if you don't, I'm not comin' and I'll probably send the cops after you too."

"Probably is a word of weakness, and only tells me that you're in my control"

"I don't give a dang what words are 'words of weakness' or what you think, all I want to know is your name and whether or not you're working with ABW" Rick said, still standing outside the car.

"My name is Sean (sorry sean, it really has nothing to do with you, it just feels right), and yes, I am with ABW, and I'll explain a lot more if you'll just come with me"

"Are you going to hurt me?"

"No, I just want to talk"

"Do I have to wear the blindfold?" Rick asked

"No"

(Sorry for the length of this one, but my fingers are flyin' and I'm feelin' it and I don't want to lose it)

Rick climbed in the car apprehensively and noticed for the first time how small Sean was, his palms were like a small pancakes with thin twig-like fingers protruding from them. The moment Sean started driving Rick realized where they were going: Salem.

"Of course" he thought, "I can't believe I pieced together ABW, and yet I couldn't realize that they're located in Salem!"

Sure enough, the short ride ended at the exact sight of the picture. The building was small, but well-kept and sat on a short, dead-end road next to an abandoned building, which appeared to have been a flower boutique. On the other side sat a cute little transmission shop, with a pony-tailed man out front cleaning up an oil spill.

The two walked inside to the room where the previous meeting had taken place and started to talk.

(I'm sorry to leave you right here, but it's what I do :)