Weathers: Returns, Part II
Chapter 10
Grace sped out and the man sprinted to a red car in the parking lot. He pulled back his coat and unhooked a crowbar from his belt. He smashed in the window of the car and had the motor running in seconds.
It was sprinkling earlier in the evening but now the rain was pouring heavily. Grace windshield wipers were going full speed. She drove to nowhere in particular. She did not want to go home in case the man was still following her.
She could hardly see where she was going and never used her blinkers when she turned. She was scared but she had to be sure to lose him.
Suddenly a red car with no headlights bumped her from behind. Her heart raced. She laid on the gas pedal. She barely kept her car on the road. Grace prayed no one was in front of her. She prayed.
She kept driving. Every time she thought she lost him, she turned. Moments later he bumped her again. A pair of headlights came at her from the front. She swerved right and slid down a 20-foot embankment. At the bottom was a paved road. She regained control of the car and kept driving.
Grace came to a familiar building and stopped. She no longer felt like she was being followed. An inexplicable feeling of comfort came over her. The rain continued to fall heavily on her as she stepped out of her car. She looked all around her. Not a single person or other vehicle was anywhere in sight.
She was at St. Paul’s. The cathedral was massive. Fate or something had brought her back. She hesitated before walking up the steps. The doors were unlocked. She walked inside and it was pitch black. No light.
That was the last thing she remembered before waking up alone in a hotel room, still wearing her wet clothes. She was groggy but she looked around the room. Out the window, she could see the sun peeking over the horizon.
Then she was startled when someone knocked on her door. Still trying to make sense of her surroundings, she debated in her head whether or not to answer it.
She heard a click, the door unlocked and began to open. She reached for the bottle of champagne on the table. She held it behind her back ready to swing.
“Ms. Weathers?” asked a male voice as he entered the room. “I’m Agent Brock and I’d like to explain all of this to you.”
Grace lowered the bottle as Brock walked in the room. She felt relieved to see him though she didn’t know why. She didn’t know him yet she felt comfortable.
Brock sat down in the large chair on the other side of the room. Grace slowly lowered herself onto the edge of the bed.
“We left dry clothes for you in the bathroom if you’d like to change,” Brock told her.
“After you explain what’s going on,” Grace said.
Grace sped out and the man sprinted to a red car in the parking lot. He pulled back his coat and unhooked a crowbar from his belt. He smashed in the window of the car and had the motor running in seconds.
It was sprinkling earlier in the evening but now the rain was pouring heavily. Grace windshield wipers were going full speed. She drove to nowhere in particular. She did not want to go home in case the man was still following her.
She could hardly see where she was going and never used her blinkers when she turned. She was scared but she had to be sure to lose him.
Suddenly a red car with no headlights bumped her from behind. Her heart raced. She laid on the gas pedal. She barely kept her car on the road. Grace prayed no one was in front of her. She prayed.
She kept driving. Every time she thought she lost him, she turned. Moments later he bumped her again. A pair of headlights came at her from the front. She swerved right and slid down a 20-foot embankment. At the bottom was a paved road. She regained control of the car and kept driving.
Grace came to a familiar building and stopped. She no longer felt like she was being followed. An inexplicable feeling of comfort came over her. The rain continued to fall heavily on her as she stepped out of her car. She looked all around her. Not a single person or other vehicle was anywhere in sight.
She was at St. Paul’s. The cathedral was massive. Fate or something had brought her back. She hesitated before walking up the steps. The doors were unlocked. She walked inside and it was pitch black. No light.
That was the last thing she remembered before waking up alone in a hotel room, still wearing her wet clothes. She was groggy but she looked around the room. Out the window, she could see the sun peeking over the horizon.
Then she was startled when someone knocked on her door. Still trying to make sense of her surroundings, she debated in her head whether or not to answer it.
She heard a click, the door unlocked and began to open. She reached for the bottle of champagne on the table. She held it behind her back ready to swing.
“Ms. Weathers?” asked a male voice as he entered the room. “I’m Agent Brock and I’d like to explain all of this to you.”
Grace lowered the bottle as Brock walked in the room. She felt relieved to see him though she didn’t know why. She didn’t know him yet she felt comfortable.
Brock sat down in the large chair on the other side of the room. Grace slowly lowered herself onto the edge of the bed.
“We left dry clothes for you in the bathroom if you’d like to change,” Brock told her.
“After you explain what’s going on,” Grace said.
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