TAG Part 6

TAG Part 6

I drove.  Just drove as fast and far as I could.  I knew it was dangerous.  I knew it was foolish.  But I also knew that I had to get out of that hospital.  I could not stay a prisoner there forever. 

I imagined that poor man with the flowers rushing back to his car only to find it gone.  I did feel bad for him, but I also knew I would return it.  In fact, I realized that I didn’t have much time to use the car.  The owner probably called the police right away.  The police likely arrived and did a preliminary investigation to make sure that the guy hadn’t simply forgotten where he had parked.  That gave me less than 30 minutes, which meant I had to think logically and quickly. 

OK – first step, get far away.  Step 2, do not drive home, that is the first place they will look for me.  Also, they may track my phone, so turn it off for now.  Step 3, ditch car and find a new mode of transportation.  That sounds easier said than done.  Think, Ally…. Think!   I took a deep breath.  Then it hit me.  Thomas.  Thomas can help me.

I drove the car to the furthest point that I could think of that was opposite of Thomas’s house.  I dropped it in a public parking lot at the airport.  I wrote a note using a pen and a napkin I found in the car, “I am really sorry!” and left it on the car seat.  I scoured the car for loose change and was able to scrounge up 2 scrunched up singles, a half a roll of quarters, and 4.63 in assorted change.  11.63 cents wouldn’t get me far.  But for 3.75 I could take the bus that would take me within walking distance to Thomas.  At least I had part one of a plan.  I added to the note, “PS I owe you $11.63”.

Before I could get on the bus, I needed a little preparation.  I ran into the airport and snuck into the convenience store.  It was very crowded, so I was able to go in and out very quickly.  I am not usually a criminal mastermind, but I did watch a lot of TV and read a lot of John Grisham novels.  I figure they key was speed, not being obvious, and acting like you own the place.  I can’t even believe I did this, but I walked over to the clearance winter section of hats and gloves.  I grabbed a hat and put it on, covering my hair and eyebrows.  I wrapped a scarf around my neck.  I put knit gloves on my hands.  I had to be sure I was covering myself to avoid being identified, but more importantly – I had to avoid any physical contact with any person at all.  Gosh, I really felt like Rogue from the X-Men.  I ripped the tags off and stuffed them in my pocket.  I walked out of the store and into the stream of people in the airport main terminal.  And just like that, I was lost in the crowd.  No one noticed me at all. 

I left the airport and hopped on the cross town bus.  I paid with exact change.  I didn’t want to draw any attention to myself.  I sat down and leaned my head against the glass window.  As the bus pulled away, I felt myself starting to relax, to feel sleepy.  I must have nodded off, because I awoke suddenly with a jolt.  A realization popped in my head.  I couldn’t go to Thomas.  I couldn’t put him at risk.  And I realized where I had to go.  I had to go to the place where I saw the boy.  That is my only option.  I had to go home and follow him.  But how do you follow a ghost?  How?  With instinct, that’s how.  I will go where my inner voice tells me to go.  I will follow my instincts.  They have gotten me out of that prison of a hospital. 

I got off the bus at the next stop, and looked around to get my bearings.  I wasn’t familiar with this part of the city – but I knew it was closer to my house than I expected, so that was good news.  I headed south, walking briskly.  Again, my goal was to blend in.  Be invisible.

I looked up at an intersection, when a flashing neon sign caught my eye: “Gypsy Fortune Teller – Open 24 Hrs”.   Gypsies… Fortune tellers… all scam artists as far as I was concerned.  Yet, against my intellect, I headed right for it.  I walked with an intention with which I was unfamiliar – as though I knew all along that this was where I was heading.  Almost autopilot, like morning commuters heading to their jobs when they get off the train.  No thought required, just a direct path.  I walked in, very relieved that they were in fact open.  It smelled of vanilla incense and spices.  As I shut the door behind me, I heard the bells on them indicating a person had come in. 

I walked further into the small, crowed shop, looking at the oddities on the walls and shelves.  Jars of potions in various colors.  Candles in various stages of burn.  Spell books.  Photos on the walls of so many interesting looking things, people in odd dress, ceremonies taking place.  I was so absorbed that I almost forgot why I was there.  I continued walking around and examining the fascinating room.  More creepy items, some for sale, some not.    A lot of statues… angels smiling, angels crying.  Witches.  Cats.   A statue of a dragon with wings.  Wait, was it a dragon?  Maybe a demon of some sort?  Glowing eyes, sure seemed evil.  And it seemed like he was looking right at me.

I was deep in thought when I heard her enter the room.  And that is how my heart skipped a beat as she said, “Finally.  You are here, Allison.  I have been waiting for you.”

TAG Part 5

2 weeks.  It had been 2 weeks since I had been brought to the hospital, and they had yet to release me.  I was fine, I had no symptoms at all.  My lab work had all come back fine, and there was no trace of anything. Yet, they were still very concerned about me.  They refused to lift the quarantine, which I thought was illegal.  How could they, I had repeatedly asked, keep a healthy woman under quarantine for so long without due cause?

They had responded that 4 unexplained deaths was indeed due cause, and until they found out why everyone who came in contact with me died I would have to stay.  Apparently, the 2 people who were in critical condition had also died.  Now I wasn’t saying that was good, nor was I happy about it.  But 2 weeks and no other incidents, that’s too long.  But Dr. Howell had been quick to explain that there had been no other incidents because I had not been in contact with anyone else. 

“So put me in contact!“ I had protested. 

“With whom?” he had responded.  And to that, I had no answer.

Over the past few days, I had gotten very itchy.  There was nothing for me to do, although they had allowed me my cell phone, thank god!  And I had access to a computer, so I could go online and at least be a part of the world, albeit virtually.  I filled my days with social media, games, and reading.  I had always been a voracious reader, and loved the classics.  I tried to view this time as a vacation, and begin to re-pour through some books that I hadn’t read in a while. Anna Karenina was first, and I immediately got lost in the language, the beautiful and painful world of Anna.  Then I moved onto the Bronte sisters and Jane Eyre, Wuthering Heights, and Agnes Grey… again, lost in the pastoral settings and romantic prose, and in the hypnotic language, making me feel the wanting, the yearning.  I did get lost.  Then I would be jolted back to the cold, grim reality of my new world when a nurse dressed like a storm trooper came in to ignore me and check my vitals. I was locked in a clinical room, antiseptic, cold and most troubling of all, with no real human contact.  I was eating, but I was starving. 

One day, I was reading when I noticed a large ant climbing up my window sill.  It was pretty big for an ant, and I was surprised that he had gotten into what appeared to be a hermetically sealed room.  I suddenly got an idea.  If I could touch this little creature and it didn’t die, maybe I would be able to prove to Dr. Howell that I had no further issues, that I was now just fine!  I rose, and walked over to the window.  Slowly, I reached out to the ant, and placed my index finger on him.  He was still.  Very still.  He was dead, almost immediately.  Maybe I crushed him, I reasoned.  Shit, no.  This was weird, and very bad.  What the hell? 

They were going to keep me here forever, I thought to myself.  What are they even doing?  What could they possibly be studying about me?  They will never figure it out, because they have no clue.  Even I have no clue.  Wait – yes, I have a clue.  That little boy, that day, “tag”.  That was the start of all of this, that little, cold-eyed boy.  Why hadn’t I connected him to this sooner?  I should tell the doctor!

No, I reasoned.  If I told anyone that a little boy rang my doorbell, said “tag” implying that I am now “it”, and then disappeared into thin air all that would be accomplished is that I would be placed on a 24-hour lockdown with a Thorazine drip.  No, I would have to figure this out on my own.  I could tell no one. 

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a car pull up to what appeared to be a side entrance to this hospital.  I had never been at this hospital before now, and did not know the layout.  I saw a man jump out of the car with a bouquet of flowers, and leave the car running while he ran inside.  Impulsively, I made a decision – and maybe a terrible mistake.  I grabbed my shoes and my cell phone, and pushed up the window and looked out.  2 floors.  Without thought or logic, I jumped.  It was a much longer jump than I expected, and even though I was in solid physical condition, it really hurt to land.  I rose slowly to assess if I had injured myself, but I thought I was ok.  I mean as ok as I could be at this point.  I looked around and saw no one.  I bolted to the car, got behind the wheel and drove as fast as I could.  I escaped! 

But what would I do now?  What could I do?  If I went home, I would likely have a SWAT team there shortly to ensure I was recaptured and this time, put under a very secure lock down.  I realized there was only one thing I could do, only one thing I had to do – I had to find him.  I had to find the boy.  But how?