Available Darkness Season 2

she could lock onto her friend.
    Katya fell back on the carpet and landed on her butt crying out in pain. Abigail curled on the chair, shaking: covering her eyes with her fingers, afraid to see what damage she might have done.
    The world was entirely dark behind her closed eyes as the room grew painfully silent. She couldn’t bear to look.
    Oh, God, she’s dead. I killed her.
    Please don’t be dead, please don’t be dead, please —
    “Ow,” Katya said. “Are you OK?”
    “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Abigail repeated as she blinked her eyes to Katya standing and staring at her hand. The fingers on her right hand were swollen and red, almost burnt-looking.
    Katya closed her fingers around her burnt hand, wincing, looking at Abigail to see if she were also hurt. “Are you OK?”
    “I’m fine,” Abigail said. “Are you?”
    “I don’t know,” Katya said, running to the kitchen, probably to grab ice from the freezer. Abigail hopped up from the floor and followed, eager to make sure Katya was OK, and that the damage wasn’t spreading up her arm or into her body.
    Abigail kept a safe distance as Katya dropped her hand it into a bowl of ice-cold water. She stood in front of the sink, staring at Abigail with fear in her eyes.
    “What happened?” Katya asked.
    “I’m so sorry.”
    “Why do you keep saying you’re sorry?” Katya asked. “You didn’t do anything.”
    Something in Abigail’s eyes must have given her away — maybe the guilt. She stared at Katya as everything in her friend’s body started to shift, from her eyes to her mouth to the look of understanding dawning in Katya’s eyes.
    Something was wrong with Abigail, and Katya knew it.

    * * * *

CHAPTER 4 — Hannah

    Hannah was confused.
    She’d been sitting in a county jail cell for a few hours, and yet nobody had said a word to her. The arresting officer escorted her to a cell, and that was that. No mug shot, no fingerprints, no anything. She’d just been told to sit, then left alone.
    Don’t they have to charge me with something? They can’t just hold me and not tell me what I’m being charged with!
    Hannah decided to say something the second she saw someone. Problem was, her row of cells was empty of both prisoners and guards. It was as if the jail was a ghost town, too.
    Something wasn’t right.
    “I told you to run,” that other inner voice started to harp.
    Not now.
    It was easy to lose track of time in the tiny cell without any windows. Hannah was exhausted, and wanted to sleep on the cell’s only cot, but didn’t dare close her eyes.
    She had to stay awake — had to see what was going to happen.
    Finally, sleep won, and Hannah nodded off while sitting up and trying to stay awake.

    She woke to the sound of her cell door opening. Greg stood beside another officer Hannah had not seen before, a stern looking man in his 50s.
    Despite being afraid of Greg just hours before, she melted with relief as he stepped into her cell. “I’m so sorry, Greg,” she said, feeling ashamed and foolish.
    He hugged her tight, and his hug felt good: comfort without judgment. “I don’t know what happened,” she said. “I think it must be from the accident. I was confused and, I don’t…”
    “It’s OK,” he said, stroking Hannah’s hair, “Everything is fine now. Don’t worry.”
    The officer asked, “Everything good here, Agent Overton?”
    “Yes,” Greg said. “Thank you, Gene.”
    “No problem, sir.”
    Agent? Why is he calling him an agent? Why is he talking to Greg as though Greg is some sort of authority?
    “I told you. He’s not who he said he is.”
    Hannah kept her mouth shut as the officer escorted them out from the cell and handed Hannah the purse they’d taken when she was arrested. Her heart pounded, and confusion swirled through her head as she followed Greg outside the station and over to his car, waiting beneath the soft, early-morning light. Something inside Hannah screamed for her to run, but where in the hell could she go when her boyfriend was friendly with the cops? Might even be a cop, or something.
    Agent? Who the hell is he?
    He opened her door and said, “Get in.” Hannah wasn’t sure if she imagined the sharp edge in his voice, but didn’t think so.
    She got into the car, and Greg closed the door hard behind her.
    Greg got in on his side, adjusted the seat, and put the car into drive. The doors autolocked as they left the county jail.
    They drove in silence, Hannah wanting to ask him