Radiant Eclipse

Michael still followed me through dozens and dozens of towns and counties, through the snow and through the rain four hours, for a day and a half, until I exhaled slowly and found the border to Illinois. I pressed the pedal to the floor, reaching one hundred and two miles an hour as I whipped through back roadways that I knew by heart. I was sure that Johnny would go to the police in Chicago, since that's where the original crime had been committed, and I was telling myself that he would be there when I reached my old town.

I whipped through farm roads and even cut through a person's land in order to get away from Michael.

I'd lost him for awhile, halfway to my hometown, forty-five minutes north of Chicago, and I quickly filled the van with gas, police sirens blaring in the distance as I told the guy to keep the change and sped off once more.

I happened to glance down and found, to my relief, Michael's cell phone. My heart skipped, and as I handled the car, I snatched up the device, dialing Johnny's number by heart. He answered on the first ring with a heavy, down trodden sounding, “Hello?”

I cried when I heard him speak, and I sobbed, “Johnny, it-it's-”

“Vickie!” he cried. “Where are you? Tell me. I am with the police right now. You need to tell me so I can help you.”

I was about to respond when I saw Michael appearing behind me, and I muttered, “Shit!” before putting Johnny on speaker phone. “Listen to me, Johnny. I...I want you to know that I love you. I should have let you known that I felt something different about you when I had had the chance. But I didn't. And I'm sorry.”

“No,” Johnny said. “Vickie, you're not done, yet. You'll get to tell me that in person. You'll get the chance again, just tell me where you are. Please...Please just tell me. I...I love you, Vickie.”

My heart dropped into my stomach and I nodded, though he couldn't see as I sped through another town and another place, now twenty minutes away from my old town. “I'm almost to Grayslake, I'm speeding down route 83 right now. Johnny...I want you to do me a favor and please make sure my dad and brother are okay.”

“Vickie, don't,” Johnny cried, his voice shaking and angry, filled with horror and yet with relief. “The police are on their way. He's following you, isn't he?”

I gulped and eyed him in my rear-view mirror. “Yes,” I replied.

Johnny said, “You'll be okay-” just as I heard a gun shot, and felt the hot pain engulf my right shoulder, forcing me to cry and lose control of the van. I tried to keep it from going off the road, but I knew it was too late as it hit the ditch. I covered my head with my good arm, and felt my body tumbling around like a rag doll, then felt I was flying, the wind rustling through my hair and clothes before I slammed the ground in agony.

I couldn't see anything in detail, but I felt the ground against my stomach, and I wailed in pain stricken horror. I couldn't move, and I felt my mouth filling up with a metallic-tasting liquid as I struggled to breath.

I was dying.

I tried to move, but every time I told my arm to roll me over, nothing happened.

So I waited, with my lungs filling up with blood and my body convulsing. My vision, which was already blurred as I stared at the grass beneath me, was growing black, like I was entering a tunnel of some sort. I lost all sight, but I heard sirens in the distance. A lot of them. And I struggled to keep breathing, gurgling noises erupting from deep within my lungs and throat as I finally got use of my arm and flipped myself on to my back.

Rain fell down lightly, sprinkling itself on my face, and I smiled. I don't know why. I just did. My good arm reached for the sky that I couldn't see, and I thought I could feel someone there beside me. I thought I blinked a few times, before I reached for the imaginary person. “I love him,” I was pretty sure I said, before I could no longer hold my arm up and felt it fall to the ground, my head rolling to one side...