For the gang Thursday came and left with no drama. Alison spent the day with Fran, going to the mall and the movies. Fran held up surprisingly well, only crying once over dinner. Alison stayed by her side until twelve midnight. It was Alison’s plan to stay overnight, but Fran said it wasn’t necessary. Her parents were home sleeping, and besides, Fran snored like a bear and was always embarrassed to have anyone else sleep in the same room with her. Alison left her with a hug and a promise to call in the morning.
Alison did call Fran on Friday morning, and her old friend was just fine. The news spread through the group, and Tony and Kipp began to relax. Brenda didn’t, however. It was unnecessary, she said. She hadn’t been worried initially. Joan had called her mom to tell her she had decided to spend an extra day in the mountains, so she was still unavailable.
Then Friday night arrived.
Alison went to bed early. Tony was still not talking to her, and the stress was wearing her out. She drank a glass of warm milk and crawled under her covers. The last thing she remembered before falling asleep was that Fran had told her she was going downtown that night to some party.
Then Alison was asleep, and she had no more conscious thoughts.
But curious images did float in her unconscious mind, bringing with them strange sensations. She was in a wide open space but felt claustrophobic. The air pulsed in nauseating patterns of red and purple light. A painful throbbing sound seemed to come from every quarter, totally out of sync with the oscillating colors. There was also a haze of smoke that stank of rotten eggs. But most of all was her intense feeling of despair. It wrapped like a steel coil around her heart and brought pain.
As Alison listened in her dream, she thought she could hear the distant wails of people in torment. Their faint cries came to her through the din of the throbbing and were so twisted they could have been the sounds of animals being tortured to death. But she could see no one, even though she herself felt watched. It was as if the horrible space had eyes of its own, made out of the sickening light and deafening noise. Eyes that were constantly aware and always displeased. Above all else, she wished to God she could be anywhere but where she was.
Then suddenly she was sitting bolt upright in bed—in the dark, where all bad things happened. The phone beside her bed was ringing, and her heart shrieked in her chest. She reached over and grabbed it.
“Hello?”
“Alison?”
“Yeah.” She had to take a breath. “Who is this?”
“Mrs. Darey.”
The fear came in a wash, instantaneously. “Is something wrong with Fran? What’s happened to her?”
Mrs. Darey wept. “I don’t know. The hospital called. They say she’s been in a car accident. They wouldn’t say how she was. They want me to come to the hospital, but my husband’s not here, and I’m so upset I can’t find my glasses. Ali, can you take me to the hospital? I don’t think I can drive like this.”
Alison realized the woman had momentarily forgotten that she lived almost an hour away in the valley. She spoke gently. “Sure, I can take you to the hospital. But it might take me a while to get to your house. I’m going to have my boyfriend, Tony, come over and get you instead. You’ve met him. Then I’m going to drive directly to the hospital and meet you there. Would that be OK?”
“I suppose.” Sobs poured from the poor woman. “When they won’t tell you how your daughter is, does that mean she’s dead?”
“No, Mrs. Darey. It only means they’re not sure yet what’s wrong with her. There might be nothing wrong with Fran. I’m sure there isn’t. Now give me the name of the hospital that called you.”
Mrs. Darey was able to convey the vital information. Alison reassured her once more and then hung up and called Tony. He answered immediately. He hadn’t been asleep—she could tell by his voice. She glanced at the clock. It was one in the morning.
“Tony, it’s Alison. Bad news.”
“Fran?”
“Yes. Her mom just called. Fran’s been in an accident.”
“What happened?”
Alison gave him what information she had. Tony said he could be at Fran’s house in ten minutes. He sounded alert but calm, far from the way she felt. If anything had happened to Fran, she was never going to forgive herself for having let her go out alone.
“You were waiting for this, weren’t you?” Alison asked. “You’ve been staying up.”
“I was waiting for something,” Tony said. “I didn’t know what it would be.”
Alison almost choked on the question. “Do you think she’s dead?”
Tony sighed. “I try not to think these days. It makes my head hurt.”
· · ·
Fran Darey was dead.
The three of them got the news at the same time. Although Alison had considerably farther to drive to the hospital, it had taken Tony a while to get Mrs. Darey out of her house and into his car. She had been so overcome with grief. Fran’s mother fainted when she heard the news. A team of white coats suddenly appeared and wheeled her away on a gurney. Alison’s head was spinning. The doctor who had delivered the news to them could have been telling them Fran had a bad cold—from the tone of his voice. He was middle-aged, and his green surgical gown was splashed with dried blood. He worked the emergency room in the center of the city, where shootings and stabbings were a way of life. He probably told people their loved ones were dead all the time. No sweat off his back.
“How did this happen?” Alison moaned to the doctor as she sagged into Tony’s strong arms.
The doctor shook his head. “Ask the police. They’re out back with the ambulance drivers. I understand she drove straight into a tree.”
Alison asked a stupid question. “Are you sure she’s dead? I mean, couldn’t she somehow be revived if you tried real hard?”
The doctor regarded her with a blank expression. “She’s as dead as they come. We won’t be able to revive her. I’m sorry.”
Tony wanted to check on Mrs. Hurly. He looked shaken but still in control. Alison let him go. She wanted to talk to the police before they disappeared. She caught one of them in the parking lot as he was climbing into his squad car.
“Excuse me,” she said. “I’m a friend of that girl who was just brought in. The one in the car crash. Were you at the scene of the accident?”
The officer was young and handsome. He had a neat brown mustache and a dark blue uniform that fit him perfectly. He stood outside his car with her. His face supplied the sympathy the doctor’s had been missing.
“Yes, I was, miss,” he said and touched her arm. “I’m very sorry your friend was killed. I understand she was only eighteen.”
Alison nodded and sniffed. “I’m sorry, too. But I’m also confused. The doctor inside said Fran ran straight into a tree?”
“That’s correct. The tree was a tall olive at the side of the road. She must have been doing sixty when she hit it. Both the tree and the car were destroyed.”
“Do you think she was run off the road?”
“There was no sign of skid marks. Usually when someone runs you off the road, you have a chance to hit the brakes. But maybe not. The accident’s going to be thoroughly investigated. I wish I could tell you more. I really am sorry.”
Alison started to turn away and go back inside to find Tony. She needed his strong arms now more than ever. She just hoped that when she found him, he would open his arms to her. Yet she hesitated before leaving and asked the officer what was probably another stupid question. It was just something she felt she had to ask.
“How exactly did Fran die?” she asked.
The police officer looked uncomfortable. “From the force of the impact.”
“Her body got smashed between the car and the tree?”
The cop fidgeted. “Not exactly, but close enough. I can tell you for certain that she died instantly.”
The odd purple color of the chain letter envelope flashed in her mind, along with the sick purple and red lights of the nightmare she’d been having when the phone rang. She remembered the dream then—the invisible people crying in the smoky distance. It was a memory that made her shudder.
“Tell me exactly how it was,” she said.
The officer looked down. “You don’t want to know.”
“I need to know.”
“Her head went through the windshield and struck a thick branch of the tree at an unfavorable angle. That broke her neck and—”
“And what?”
The officer looked puzzled. “I’ve been to a hundred serious car accidents, and I don’t know how it happened. It must have been the shattered glass of the windshield in combination with the impact of her skull on the tree.”
“What are you saying?”
The officer lowered his gaze once more. “Your friend was decapitated in the accident. We found her head in a nearby bush.”