Nightmares of Caitlin Lockyer (Nightmares Trilogy) (18 page)

I stood at the garage door, wishing I didn't have to drive the car Caitlin hated so much.
Maybe I should sell it and buy something so different this one would only be a distant, bad memory. I looked past it and my eyes fell on the dusty cover shrouding the car beside mine. Alanna's car, untouched since they took her. The car she'd never come home to drive again.

My feet moved of
their own volition as I reached out automatically to take the cover off. I shook my head as I saw the car. I still didn't understand our parents' reasoning behind giving me the solid, dependable sedan while Alanna got the sporty convertible. She'd never had so much as a speeding fine driving this thing and there was no way she'd let me touch it.

I touched the smooth
, white contours of her car, wishing she was here to say, "Don't even think about it, Nathan," as she shook her keys at me. I wished I could ask her about Caitlin, and whether she thought I was as crazy as Chris did. Would Alanna have let me take her car, when mine scared Caitlin so much? Or would she have told me I was being stupid and to leave the poor girl alone?

I'd never know. Alanna wasn't coming back and her car would sit here, gathering dust, until we got rid of it.
Unless I got rid of my car and kept hers...

I wiped my eyes, which were tearing up in the airborne dust from shifting the car cover. I could feel my throat choking up, too. The dust must have been pretty thick.

I found Alanna's keys and turned them in the ignition. I got nothing. It hadn't been driven in months, so a flat battery didn't come as a big surprise. I hunted around the garage for jumper leads to jumpstart her car from mine. We'd never needed them – they were still sealed in the packet. I ripped the plastic open with a pocket knife.

Hooking up the cables, I started my engine, before clipping the last clamp to Alanna's car battery. I slid into the driver's seat and shifted it back, so there was enough space for me, tossing the pocket knife into the glove box. This time, the ignition caught and as I revved the engine, I realised her little car had far more power than mine. Perfect Alanna, never a foot wrong, to the point where our parents had trusted her with a high-powered sports car when she'd turned twenty-one. God, I missed her. She'd have been able to tell me what to do.

I turned the Mercedes off and put the cables away. I climbed back into Alanna's car and headed for Caitlin's house.

Maybe half a kilometre from home, I decided to take the top off. I'd never driven a convertible before, much less a topless one, and it seemed like a really good idea right now. Maybe the air flow would help clear my head, or even just the dust from my eyes, which were still streaming.

Five minutes later, I could barely feel my hands in the freezing wind. When I stopped at the traffic lights, I looked around for something to wrap around me to keep warm. An old, padded jacket, with a logo from an airline company that had long since gone out of business, was spread across the back seat and I struggled to put it on before the lights went green. I managed to zip it up before I took off. I wondered who'd left the jacket in Alanna's car, but I realised I'd never know. It smelled faintly of her perfume, so I knew she'd worn it in the past. Or cuddled up real close to someone who had. I laughed aloud at the thought of Alanna doing anything like that in this car. She'd have insisted on dinner, a movie or a show, before even considering suggesting he provide a luxurious bed, several dates later. The exact opposite of me.

I took the onramp to the freeway and cheered as the car responded perfectly to the accelerator. It was a heady contrast to the slow, steady speed increase of my sedan. I checked my mirrors before merging and realised my hair was standing on end, blown everywhere in the breeze that had frozen me to the bone. Caitlin would laugh herself silly – never a bad thing – if I turned up with a crest like a cockatoo, but I didn't want to take her out to dinner looking like a cocky. I spotted a cap on the floor by the passenger seat and stuck it on my head, praying it would flatten my hair or at least hide it.

As I pulled into Caitlin's street, I took the cap off and looked hopefully at the mirror, but was sadly disappointed. I stuck the cap back on and wondered if Caitlin would agree to order takeaway food again or let me use her bathroom to fix my hair. If I'd thought to get my hair cut, this wouldn't be a problem. Only skinheads and bald blokes should drive convertibles with the top down, I told myself, resolving to shave my head in the morning.

I pulled into her driveway and checked the time. Shit, I was late. Arguing with Chris and jumpstarting a car had taken more time than I thought. I saw the lace curtain at the front window move and knew Caitlin had seen me. I pulled the cap down firmly to cover my hair and took a deep breath.

Caitlin flew down the steps, a look of terror on her face. She skittered to a stop in front of my car for a moment, staring.

Cautiously, I opened the door and started to climb out. Her eyes widened further and she took off down the street. I looked around, but I couldn't see what had scared her so much.

I expected her to come back, but Caitlin kept going, as if someone was pursuing her. I broke into a run, too, determined to catch up to her so I could keep her in sight. If someone was after her, I had to stay with her to protect her.

It had been too long since I'd last gone for a run. I couldn't catch my breath, but she was visibly flagging as she reached the end of her endurance. I was amazed she'd made it this distance from the house and I worried that Caitlin would push her body too far, doing herself even more injury.

She almost tripped, then righted herself before she hit the ground.

"No, stop!" I begged her breathlessly. "Come back. You can't
..."

I meant to say she couldn't run far, but it seemed fear had driven her to do just that.

"... can't outrun me," I finished. That was true, at least. And I didn't want her to try.

"Come back. Please. Let me
..."

She made a fearful sound in her throat and I redoubled my speed, desperate to catch up, stop her and find out why she was so frightened.

I reached out, desperately, trying to grab her shoulder. As my fingers touched her, she overbalanced, falling face-first onto the lawn of a stranger's house.

As soon as Caitlin hit the grass, she rolled over to face me, the tears in her eyes set on fire by the light of the setting sun. She let out a sobbing breath, her hands up as if to stop me from coming any closer.

My heart was already pounding from panic and the unaccustomed exercise. I felt it drop like Caitlin had when she'd fallen. "Angel, are you okay?" I asked, expecting the worst and hoping I was wrong.

A curtain in the house twitched and the front door opened. An angry-looking woman peered out of the partly open door, a hockey stick in her hand.

Caitlin's sobbing resolved into words. "How... could... why..."

I tried to smile, but it was hard. I wanted desperately to know what had scared her, but I didn't dare ask with an angry audience. "What do you think of my new car?" I asked
, seeing movement around me as more of her neighbours emerged from their houses. I wondered which one held the piano-playing child. Most of them were armed with sporting equipment – I saw a couple more hockey sticks, some cricket bats and a tennis racquet. One bloke carried a massive axe that I hoped stayed on his side of the street, as far away from us as possible.

"Your
... new car?" Caitlin managed to say.

"Yes," I replied patiently, glancing around. All of them seemed content to watch for the moment. "I know you didn't like the old one, so I figured it was time for something new."
Forgive me, Alanna, but I'd drive a hot pink hatchback if it meant Caitlin wouldn't be so scared. You don't need your car any more.

She glanced around at the neighbours and lifted her lips in a forced smile. "The car's fine. Please, help me up and back to my house." She lifted her arms, looking up at me with a wide-eyed, desperate smile on her face.

I tried to lift her up, but she muttered, "Just help me walk."

"But you'll hurt yourself," I protested. "That's too far for you to walk."

Her smile was strained. "I got this far on my own, didn't I? Do it, Nathan. Or my neighbours will interfere and they're fairly protective of me when Dad's not around. Especially now..."

Against my best judgement, I helped her stand up, taking as much of her weight as I could as I helped her walk home, knowing I'd have nightmares about her tooth-grinding smile after this.

Her face was almost drained of all colour by the time she staggered up the steps to her front door. Even with me holding her, she was swaying on her feet. "Nathan... please... the door..." she panted. She looked like she was going to pass out.

I turned the handle and kicked it open, lifting Caitlin off her feet before she fell.

"No... must..." she murmured, her eyes closed.

"You must rest," I finished for her, carrying her over the threshold like my precious bride. At least the precious part was true.

I let her down onto the couch, where she sat with her eyes closed, unmoving, for a few minutes. I stood beside her, watching. I took my cap off, not caring how crazy a cocky's crest I had any more. I ran my fingers through it absently, probably making it worse.

I waited for her to catch her breath, for her eyelids to flutter open so I could ask her what had scared her so much and take care of it for her. But they didn't. Her breathing was shallow and slow.

I knelt down beside her. "Angel," I began.

"What is it, Nathan?" Her voice was flat but calm.

"Are you okay?" I asked, desperate to know.

A pause.
"Not really. I'm hurting and hoping the pain will go away if I sit still long enough."

"Oh God," I burst out. "I'm so sorry I was late. What happened?"

Someone pounded on the door. I looked at Caitlin, unsure what to do.

She opened her eyes and struggled to sit up, but she didn't move much. She nodded toward the door. "Please."

I stood and opened the door. My least favourite of her neighbours stood there, the bloke with the block splitter. The heavy axe didn't seem to be in his hands any more. I breathed a sigh of relief until I realised he'd propped it up beside the door so he had his hands free to knock. Fuck. "Can I help you?" I asked nervously. Behind him, I could see people still on their front lawns, watching.

"I want to make sure Caitlin's okay," he said, looking me right in the eye.

"Me, too, mate," I replied.

"
It's okay, Nathan," Caitlin said behind me. I felt her hand on my arm and moved aside quickly, grabbing her before she collapsed. I held her to my side, trying to make it look friendly instead of forced by her frailty. "Thanks for coming to check on me, Bruce, but my friend Nathan's here to help me. I fell over and I think I hurt something. I'll be okay. I just need to rest a bit." Her body was threatening to make her rest right here on the floor if I let go. I managed a smile for her nosy, scary neighbour.

"If you say so," Bruce replied doubtfully. "If you need me for anything, all you have to do is ask. You have our number." He eyed me as he picked up his block splitter, swinging it up onto his shoulder as he walked back across the road to his own house.

I carried Caitlin back to the couch before I closed and locked the door. This time, I sat beside her. "What happened?" I repeated, urgently.

She smiled tiredly.
"Nothing. I... nothing." She closed her eyes for a moment. "Is there any chance we can go out for dinner another night? I'm a little too tired and you look like a cockatoo."

I laughed, relieved. "Sure. I'll ring up and get something delivered."

She reached out, her hand patting my arm. "Thank you." The patting stopped, her hand resting limply on my wrist. I looked at her in concern. Poor Caitlin had passed out.

I waited a moment, calling her name softly, but I got no response. Even when I stroked her hair, she didn't move. I stretched Caitlin out on her side on the sofa, checking her breathing and all those things you do for first aid on an unconscious person. As I touched her legs, she whimpered slightly, so I moved away. I dug out her pain medication and placed it on the coffee table beside her with a glass of water.

Not sure how long it had been since she'd eaten, I washed and sliced up some strawberries for her. I left them on the coffee table, too.

It'd been a long time since my initial first aid training, but I was pretty sure I had one more step to follow. I pulled out my phone to call for help from an expert more qualified than I was.

"Why'd you put her to sleep on the couch? Wouldn't she be more comfortable in her own bed?" Navid asked, without so much as a hello.

"She's unconscious, not asleep," I replied, annoyed. "Look, I need to know what happened to scare her before I arrived. I'm trying to work out whether I should call an ambulance or if she'll be better off staying home where I can let her wake up normally."

"Nothing, mate," Navid drawled. I could imagine him leaning back and stretching out in his seat as he said it. "She was sitting pretty much where she is now, watching TV, before she noticed something outside. She used the remote control to turn the TV off and went to the window. She stood there for maybe a split second, then went out the front door. Whatever scared her wasn't in the house – it was outside with you. So, whatever it was, you must have seen it, too."