The young girl was quiet as she stepped into the room. Francesca Matthew's' sandals only offered a faint whisper as she tiptoed from the door to the bed. She swallowed hard as she looked down at the unconscious occupant. The girl who lay there couldn't have been more than a couple years older. The dark lavender dress was the most beautiful Francesca had ever seen. She longed to run her fingers along the rich velvet trim, but she didn't make a move to do so. Unseen eyes watched her and she knew it would be in her best interest to complete her task. And, quickly!
She checked the young woman's vital signs and breathed a sigh of relief when the pulse rate registered as normal. As Francesca placed the slender wrist back down onto the white coverlet, the woman stirred. Frightened, Francesca took a step back. Her breath caught in her throat as she waited. In her mind, she went over the words she had been forced to memorize before she began her assignment.
You're in hospital. You were in an accident, but you will be fine.
The young woman's movements ceased as she placed a perfectly manicured hand over her distended abdomen. Francesca's dark eyes grew huge as she saw the amethyst, topaz and diamond gem ring that adorned the woman's middle finger of her right hand.
"What a fine ring that be," she mumbled to herself. With a calculated glance over her shoulder, Francesca moved closer to the bed. Tentatively, she extended her hand towards the ring. She quickly pulled it back before her fingertips could make contact. She could only guess what the consequences would be if she allowed her actions to mirror her thoughts, but the ring… It was so beautiful, and the girl… What use would she have for it?
From what Francesca had gathered from the whispers in the island breeze, the girl would have no use for her fine things when all was said and done. And, having convinced herself with that one thought, Francesca reached for the ring and in one swift movement removed it and tucked it into her stark white apron pocket. Her heart raced wildly in her chest as the reality of her misdeed struck her, but she didn't return the precious ring. Nor did she consider the sentimental value the ring had to its owner. No, instead, Francesca took a step back. She was almost at the door when the girl stirred again.
"Nikky," the girl murmured.
Francesca turned to face the girl. Finding her on the verge of consciousness, Francesca bolted from the room.
She had just barely remembered to lock the door before she quickly ran down the long narrow hallway. She went straight to her Aunt Ginnie, who took one look at the girl's stricken face and asked, "She be wake?"
With guilt heavy on her heart, Francesca could only nod. Subconsciously, her hand went to her newly acquired ring. She fingered it for a second and becoming fearful that her aunt would become suspicious, she promptly removed her hand from her pocket.
Ginnie grunted in reply. "You stay outta there, you hear? Things be happenin' now. You best be away from there when they start. You hear me?"
Francesca nodded. "Yes, Auntie."
"Now, run along. I got my business to take care of now." Ginnie's hard eyes narrowed as she waited for her niece to obey her. As soon as she was alone, Ginnie reached for the telephone. She dialed the numbers quickly. The call was answered on the first ring. She relayed the message that the finely dressed girl was awake. She noted the orders that she was given and hung up the phone. She then made her way back down the long narrow hallway to do as she had been told.
"No…"
The dark fog enveloped her and took him away. Blindly, Dawn reached for her love, but he was gone. The hand that had so lovingly and firmly held hers was gone and now, there was only air.
"Come back…"
Dawn was scared. The fog was too dark. It blinded her and she began to fear what she could not see. She changed her mind. She wanted him to come back. She needed him to come back because something was wrong. She could feel it. She screamed his name.
"NIKKY!!!"
Drenched in sweat, Dawn bolted upright. Her screams were loud and she couldn't make herself stop. "Nikky!!!" she cried. "Oh, God! Somebody help!!"
Strange hands grabbed her and forced her to lie still. Dawn looked into the older woman's unyielding face. "Please," Dawn begged, struggling as her tears blinded her. "You've got to help me! My husband's been hurt! He needs help! There was explosion and he…he… PLEASE!"
"Settle yourself," the woman told her. "You got to be calm."
Dawn shook her head. "NO! You've got to help me! He might be hurt. You don't understand--WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" Dawn screamed.
Ginnie lightly squeezed the hypodermic needle. The liquid squirted out to her satisfaction and she held on tightly to Dawn's arm.
"NO!" Dawn screamed. She blindly struck out at the woman. "I'm seven months pregnant! You can't give me that!" Tears flowed down her cheeks in streams as she continued to beg. "Please, don't hurt my baby!"
"Ssh, chile," Ginnie cooed. "Your baby be fine. This won't hurt. This make you sleep."
"I can't sleep!" Dawn said, tearfully as she continued to struggle in vain. "My husband is out there and he needs help. He needs me! Please, why don't you understand? I don't even know where I am. Why won't you help me?"
"I be helping you, chile," Ginnie said. She slid the needle inside Dawn's arm and pumped the sedative into the younger woman's arm. She swallowed hard, steeling herself as the girl's tears continued to flow and her begging became less coherent. She patted Dawn's hand and said, "You be safe here."
"Where am I?" Dawn somehow managed to croak out before the sedative rendered her unconscious.
"In hospital," Ginnie told her. "You in hospital and we take good care of you."
"But…what…about…Nikky?" Dawn asked slowly before she drifted off. A single tear rolled down her cheek and then her breathing slowed, indicating that the drug had taken effect.
Ginnie breathed a sigh of relief as Dawn drifted off. She didn't know nothing about no Nikky. She knew nothing and with her jaw set against feeling any kind of sympathy for the young mother-to-be, Ginnie was quite content with her ignorance.
Lucky awoke to darkness. He vaguely remembered what happened at the brownstone, and he knew that he'd have to play it smart in order to take control of the situation.
Slowly, he took in his surroundings. He was on a cot. A window high above his head was opened and he could just barely make out the stars in the night sky. A breeze blew in and the smell of seawater was strong in the air. He inhaled deeply and the faint aroma of fish drifted inside his nostrils. Either he was trapped in a fish market or he was on an island somewhere. Lucky decided that the latter was the best bet. But what island? Where was he?
With his eyes having adjusted to the dark, he could just barely make out a shape. Afraid of the unknown, Lucky shrank back as the figure of a man approached him.
"Settle down," the gentle voice commanded.
"Who are you?" Lucky demanded. The figure came closer and Lucky shrank back in fear.
"Settle down, Cowboy. You're safe."
"Dad?" Lucky croaked. "Dad is that you?"
"The only one you've ever known," came the reply. "Now, relax and try to get some sleep. You're okay."
"But what's going on?" Lucky asked. He squinted in the darkness. Holding his aching head, he tried to rise, but his feet were unsteady. He slslumped back down and rested his back against the wall. "Where am I? What have you done?"
"It's Timoria."
"What? Timoria?" Lucky repeated. "What are you talking about? Why won't you tell me where we are and what's going on?"
Lucky grew quiet as the figure came towards him. By the light of the stars and the moon, he could clearly see the face of his father. Lucky's fear disappeared as Luke stooped down so that their eyes were level. Blue eyes burned into blue eyes, and Lucky was still as Luke gently cupped his face. "It's Timoria. Now, go back to sleep. We'll talk later."
"But, Dad-"
"Sleep, my son," Luke said softly. "Just sleep for now."
"Okay." Keeping his eyes on Luke, Lucky lowered himself back down onto the cot. His didn't blink once as he watched Luke move away from him and disappear back into the shadows of the room. He became still as he listened closely, hoping for any telltale sign of his father's actions and an opening for him to escape.
"Don't bother, Cowboy," Luke advised. "You'd never make it. Now, do as I say and sleep."
Lucky swallowed down his anger and confusion and did as Luke had instructed him. For now, he would sleep, but come morning, he would have his answers and he would make his way out of there. Of those things, he was certain.
