Midnight Hours, submission chapters

Midnight Hours: Prologue

Prologue
Several years in the past

         The boy jumped from his bed, his heart pounding in his chest like a galloping horse. The thud of a fist on flesh and the cries, which his sister couldn’t muffle, carried through the walls. He fell to the floor and crawled to the corner, where he curled into a ball. His arms around his head didn’t deaden the sounds.

         “Too much, too much,” he muttered. “He’s going to kill her.”

         He swallowed as if to rid himself of his fear. Uncurling, he used the side of the bed to pull himself to his feet. She needs me. She needs help.

         On stiff legs, he forced his body across the room, through the door, and down the hall to the living room. He paused and swallowed again as he viewed the one-sided battle his brother-in-law waged against his sister. The young woman huddled against the door as her much-older husband pounded her with the fist of his “good” hand. As the man raised his fist again, the boy lunged to grab the man’s arm, barely slowing its momentum.

         “What the hell!” the man’s bellow thundered in the boy’s ears. “What? You shouldn’t ‘a done that, boy!”

         The man threw the slight figure through the air. The boy landed on the coffee table, which shattered. The man picked up one of the table’s disconnected legs and used it to whack the boy, who rolled into a ball, his back and arms taking most of the abuse.

         “Stop! Stop! You’ll kill him!” the woman screamed, as she tried to avoid the swinging wood and pull her brother to safety.

         Her husband pushed her to one side and drew back his arm when the sound of a siren split the silence outside the house. The man stopped the downward swing, threw the leg across the room, and fled to the kitchen. The slam of the back door echoed through the house.

         “JR, let me help you up.” The woman attempted to lift her brother. Finally he managed to crawl onto the couch. She examined his face first. “He didn’t hit your face, good. You mustn’t interfere, ever. You mustn’t ever try to hurt him. He gave us a home. We owe him.”

         “He beats you all the time. That’s not right, Sis.” The boy groaned as he moved. “I don’t see we owe him that much.”

         “You don’t understand.”

         “No, I don’t. Sis. . . He is an old man. Why did you marry him? Uggggh.” A moan ended his speech.

         “With dad leaving, we needed a place. And he means well. He could have sent you to some home or something.” All the time she talked, the woman felt and moved his arms and legs. She helped remove his tee shirt to examine the bruises already darkening on the boy’s back and upper arms.

         “But he gets meaner, Sis. He’s going to kill you.” He flinched as she touched a rib.

         “He’s just frustrated cause he hurt his arm and hand. He needs to work and can’t.”

         “He’s crazy. He blames you for the accident. Hell...”

         “You don’t use that kind of language, you hear me!” the sister interrupted him.

         The boy dropped his head in defeat. “Okay, okay. He sure does, though.”

         “That doesn’t make it right. And no matter what he does, you don’t do anything back, you hear?” When her brother didn’t raise his head or answer, she tipped his chin up with her hand. “Promise me you won’t ever do anything to hurt him, okay?”

         The boy closed his eyes against the sight of his sister’s once beautiful face now battered and scared. “Okay, I promise.”

         The young woman glanced toward the door to the porch. “Guess that siren wasn’t coming here this time.” Heaving a sigh, she added, “Let’s get you to bed. You’re going to be mighty sore in the morning.”

         The next day as he exchanged books at his locker in the high school hall, a girl rounded the corner and bumped him. He turned to see laughing blue eyes.

         “Oh, sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going.” She tossed her dark hair back as she smiled.

         He glared at her, his pale blue eyes furious. “Don’t worry, Miss High-and-Mighty. You think you own the place anyway. You and your chicken dad sheriff. Someday you’ll be sorry, though, both of you will.”

         “What? I don’t understand. I just bumped you, and it wasn’t on purpose.” Tears seem to cloud her eyes, but the boy decided he just imagined that as she turned and flounced away.

         Three nights later, his sister’s screams woke the boy. Rushing to the hall, he watched his brother-in-law pick his sister off the floor and slug her. She flew backwards, striking her head on the corner of the replacement coffee table. She never moved. Her husband leaned over her, shaking her shoulder.

         “Don’t play possum with me, bitch. Get up an’ take yore medicine.” He shook her again, but her head lolled loosely on her neck. “Shit!” He grabbed his jacket from the armchair and slammed out the door.

         The boy ran back to his room, and grabbed his backpack as his thoughts tumbled over one another. He killed her. I knew it. He killed her. Dumping all the school items out, he stuffed some clothing in the canvas bag. He’ll kill me. I gotta go, gotta run. Rushing to his sister’s room, he found her purse and stuffed it in the backpack as well as the folder where she kept important papers, before hurrying through the kitchen and out the back door . In minutes, he rode his bike toward the edge of town. Where can I go? Where? His heart and head pounded as his legs pumped furiously. In less than fifteen minutes, the lights of the truck stop at the edge of town appeared. Get on a truck, that’ll work.

         He ditched his bike between two dumpsters before entering the café. Looking around the crowded room, he finally took a stool at the counter, placing his backpack on the floor by his feet.

         “Yes, young man, what would you like?” the waitress asked. “You’re out a bit late for a school night, aren’t you?”

         “Uh, yes, ma’am, I guess so, but, uh, well, it’s sort of an emergency,” he stammered as he frantically thought, What can I say? Need a reason to need a ride out of here.

         “An emergency? Sudden hunger or something like that?” The waitress half-smiled.

         “Uh, no, uh, my sister, my sister’s in the hospital, in . . . in Liberal. I need to get there fast. Do you think maybe a trucker would give me a lift?” His eyes scanned the room full of eating, talking people, most truckers.

         “Well, sonny, I don’t know. . .” she began when the man sitting on the stool next to the boy spoke.

         “That’s the way I’m going, if you want a ride,” the burly man offered.

         “Great, thanks.”

         The waitress acted as if she were going to say something else before she shook her head and moved away.

         The trucker gave a wide grin. “I’m called Bear, and I’m ready if you are. Unless you want to eat a bite.”

         “No, sir, I’m ready.” The boy slipped from the stool just as the man stood, noticing that he came to the trucker’s shoulder. Grabbing his pack, he thought, If I were as big as he is, no one would have beat my sister.

         The waitress watched from the other end of the counter as the boy followed the trucker out the door. Poor boy, she thought, he has no idea. Hey, not my business. Her attention returned to her job as she took and delivered orders for the next two hours. Taking a brief break as the crowd thinned after midnight, she leaned against the pie display as she slipped off a shoe and rubbed her aching foot. She slipped the shoe back on as one of her regulars took a seat at the counter.

         “Hey, Mitzy, you hear about that bad accident up near Liberal?” he asked.

         “No, what happened?” she responded.

         “Old Bear’s semi rolled and burned. Don’t know the details, but some cars were also involved. No one got out - nothing but charred bodies. Guess we’ve lost another trucker.” The man grabbed the menu. “Too bad, too.”

         The waitress stared out the windowed wall toward the highway the semi, with the boy, had taken. Poor boy, I hope Bear didn’t have time to touch him. What a terrible way to die, and what horrible last memories.

Next - "Midnight Hours: Chapter 1"