Monday, October 03, 2005

Ghostopia, Chapter 65: Kat's Story, Part Ten

"Aren't we there yet?" An eternity seemed to have passed, yet the car wasn't stopping still.
Her father kept staring ahead stoned-faced.
"Dad?" Katrina repeated herself, louder this time. "You better hurry up. We're already five minutes late."
"We're not going to the rehearsal."
A lump grew in her throat. "What?"
"I said, we're not going. There're some things we need to make clear between the two of us first."
Her lower lip quivered. The car was moving too fast for her to escape in any way. "'re scaring me."
He didn't say anything. They were now in a shoddier part of town which was certainly out of the way to Mr. Rogers' place.
"Stop it!" she tried in vain to stay calm. "Where are you taking me?"
"This won't take long, dear. We just need to settle our differences, that's all."
Katrina grew frantic. Didn't he mention in the phone call that he could easily "arrange an accident" for her? It wouldn't be beyond him to do something like that. And there was no way she could make the car - which seemed to be going way too fast - stop.
"DAD!" she grabbed his hand. "Stop the car right now!"
The side of his mouth cocked up wickedly. He accelerated even more, terrifying her on purpose. She wanted to wrest control of the steering wheel away from him, but was afraid this would make the car go out of control.
Oh Lord, what am I going to do now? Katrina could feel her clammy hands trembling. Her breath was coming out in short, frenzied bursts.
"STOP IT, DAD!" she yelled hysterically. "STOP IT!"
He let out a low laugh and went faster still. Everything outside whizzed past in a blur.
A sudden pain stabbed Katrina in the heart, making her wheeze and clutch her chest. She gritted her teeth so hard her jaw ached, trying to forget the pain.
"Good," her dad smiled. "Your illness is working up again. I won't even need to dirty my hands."
So he IS planning to kill me, Katrina thought. I have to make the car stop somehow.
Only one thing came to her mind - the emergency brake.
Often in desperate situations the mind refuses to think rationally. That was what happened when Katrina shot out a hand and lifted the brake firmly.
She didn't see her dad's eyes bulge in disbelief.
She didn't hear his cry of fear as he tried too late to slam the brakes.
She didn't even feel the car spin crazily and overturn.
All there was was total darkness.

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