THE UNKNOWN VICTIM
1461 Words
Ano ther thought suddenly occurred to Alexander, and he was out of the car in an instant.
The sack.
If the girl survived, it might help identify who she was or who had done this to her.
Rain battered against his body as he ran back toward the road . His shoes sank into the muddy ground while he searched frantically through the darkness.
"Where is it?" he muttered.
After a few tense moments, his fingers finally found the wet material. Relief washed over him. He grabbed the sack and sprinted back to the car.
Throwing it onto the passenger seat, he jumped behind the wheel and sped off.
The engine roared as the vehicle tore down the empty road at a dangerous speed.
Alexander's eyes shifted constantly between the road and the girl lying qqqamotionless on the back seat.
Her condition was worsening.
The little strength she had shown moments ago appeared to be fading rapidly. Her eyelids drooped repeatedly as she struggled to keep them open.
Fear gripped Alexander's chest.
"Please hold on," he pleaded. "Please... you have to help me help you."
His fingers tightened around the steering wheel.
"You can't die on me. Please don't die."
The words spilled from his lips over and over again.
Each time her eyes fluttered open, relief surged through him.
She was fighting.
Somehow, despite her injuries, she was still fighting.
Alexander silently praised her strength.
Turning his attention back to the road, he pushed the accelerator harder.
The car surged forward.
He searched desperately for a hospital, scanning both sides of the road as the headlights sliced through the darkness.
Nothing.
No emergency center.
No clinic.
Not that he had ever noticed one on this route before, but he searched anyway.
Anything would do.
Then another problem occurred to him.
Even if he found a hospital, how would he explain this?
The girl was covered in mud from head to toe. She looked as though she had been dumped in a swamp.
Questions would be asked.
Time would be wasted.
And right now, time was the one thing she didn't have.
His mind immediately settled on another solution.
Doctor Fred.
Alexander quickly reached for his phone and dialed the number with trembling fingers.
Glancing at the dashboard clock, he noticed it was already past one in the morning.
The call rang.
No answer.
A curse escaped his lips.
He dialed again.
This time, the line connected.
A sleepy voice answered.
"Hello?"
Alexander released a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.
"Oh, thank God."
"Alexander?" the doctor asked groggily.
"Doctor Fred, please meet me at home immediately. It's an emergency."
The sleep vanished from the man's voice.
"What happened?"
"I'll explain when you get there. Please, just come."
There was a brief pause.
"I'm on my way."
"Thank you."
Alexander ended the call.
Immediately, he dialed another number.
His maid answered on the second ring.
"Sir?"
"Margaret, stay close to the gate. The moment you hear my horn, open immediately."
"Is everything alright, sir?"
"No. Just do as I said."
"Yes, sir."
The call ended.
Only then did Alexander realize he hadn't thought about Camilla once since finding the girl.
Not once.
Even if he had remembered her, he doubted he would have called.
His attention returned to the back seat.
The girl's eyes were closed.
Panic exploded inside him.
"Hey!"
His voice echoed inside the vehicle.
"Wake up!"
For a terrifying second, there was no response.
Then her eyelids trembled and slowly opened.
Alexander exhaled sharply.
Thank God.
He focused on the road again and corrected the slight drift of the car before continuing at full speed.
To keep himself sane, he started talking.
Sometimes to himself.
Sometimes to the unconscious girl.
Anything to fill the suffocating silence.
"You'll be okay."
He swallowed.
"You hear me? You'll be okay."
A few minutes later, he risked another glance over his shoulder.
His blood turned cold.
Her eyes were closed again.
Completely closed.
"Oh no..."
The words escaped as a whisper.
His face paled instantly.
No.
No.
No.
Swallowing hard, he forced himself to think rationally.
She had simply passed out.
That was all.
She had lost blood.
Anyone would lose consciousness after what she had been through.
At least, that was what he desperately hoped.
Alexander stared at the road ahead while trying to ignore the dreadful possibilities forming inside his head.
What kind of monster would leave a young woman in a sack beside a deserted road?
Who had hurt her?
And why?
His gaze softened as he thought about her.
He couldn't even see her face properly beneath the layers of mud and rainwater.
Yet he felt strangely protective of her.
Perhaps it was because she looked helpless.
Perhaps it was because she was fighting so hard to stay alive.
Or perhaps it was simply because he was human.
No decent person could witness something like this and remain unaffected.
Within minutes, he arrived at Fieldson Estate.
The journey had been short, yet it felt like an eternity.
As he approached the security checkpoint, the guards immediately recognized his vehicle.
Alexander slowed only briefly.
"Doctor Fred is coming," he shouted through the window.
"Let him in the moment he arrives."
"Yes, sir."
Without waiting for a response, he accelerated again.
His mansion appeared ahead.
The moment he turned into the driveway, he leaned heavily on the horn.
The gates swung open almost instantly.
Margaret was already waiting.
Alexander drove straight into the compound and stopped in front of the main entrance.
Before the vehicle had completely halted, he was already opening the door.
******
Christopher poured himself a ninth glass of wine.
His hands shook violently.
Without hesitation, he emptied the glass in seconds.
The alcohol burned its way down his throat.
Yet it did nothing to numb the guilt consuming him.
His heart hammered against his chest while his vision became increasingly blurry.
With a growl of frustration, he hurled the empty glass across the room.
It smashed against the wall and shattered into dozens of pieces.
Still unsatisfied, he grabbed the bottle itself and drank directly from it.
A large mouthful slid down his throat.
He paused briefly to catch his breath before wiping his mouth with his sleeve.
His fingers dug into his hair.
He still couldn't believe what had happened.
What he had done.
It hadn't been planned.
At least, that was what he kept telling himself.
Everything had started with jealousy.
Pure, uncontrollable jealousy.
Earlier that day, he had seen Jojo hugging a man by the roadside.
The sight had ignited something ugly inside him.
Jojo was the only woman he had ever truly loved.
Unfortunately, she had never loved him back.
Every time he confessed his feelings, she gave him the same answer.
"We can only be friends."
Those words had tortured him for years.
Watching her embrace another man had pushed him beyond reason.
Fueled by anger, he had gone directly to her apartment and waited outside her door.
Because of her work schedule, Jojo lived alone in a small one-room apartment close to her office.
Christopher arrived before sunset.
He hadn't informed her he was coming.
So he waited.
One hour.
Then another.
With every passing minute, his anger grew.
By the time she finally arrived, it was already late at night.
Jojo stopped abruptly when she saw him standing outside her door.
"Chris?"
Surprise filled her voice.
She immediately began asking questions.
"What are you doing here?"
"How long have you been waiting?"
"Is everything okay?"
Christopher answered none of them.
His silence only deepened her confusion.
Eventually, she unlocked the door and stepped inside.
He followed.
The moment the door closed behind them, he spoke.
"What were you doing with that guy today?"
Jojo frowned.
"What guy?"
"Don't play dumb with me."
His voice hardened.
"I saw you hugging him by the roadside. Who is he?"
Understanding slowly dawned on her face.
Christopher took another step forward.
"I told you I wanted you. You rejected me."
His jaw clenched.
"And now you're hugging another man?"
Jojo stared at him in disbelief.
"What on earth is wrong with you, Chris?"
Her voice rose.
"You're my friend. Nothing more."
"Then nothing can happen between you and another man either."
The dangerous look in his eyes startled her.
For several seconds, she simply stared.
Then anger replaced her shock.
"Are you crazy?"
Her voice echoed through the small apartment.
"I can see whoever I want and do whatever I want. Do you understand that?"
Christopher said nothing.
"I don't belong to you!"
His fists clenched.
"And how dare you follow me around?"
Jojo took a step backward.
For the first time since she met him, Christopher looked like a complete stranger.
- Writer
