A MEMORY OF MURDER

Jane awoke, face down on the ground. Every one of her senses was cascaded by fear. First came claustrophobia of the mind, she could barely remember anything other than her own name. Her ears rang, and her eyes were hazy.
She heaved herself from the muddy pool in which she lay. The rank smell of stagnant water seemed to have similar effects to that of smelling salts.

As her senses cleared, she assessed her surroundings. The full moon sat in a clear, crisp night sky, highlighting the surrounding woodland.
The naked branches looked weak and contorted in pain, as if tortured by the elements.
Her breath formed a cloud as she exhaled.

As she struggled to her feet, the pain hit. Jane felt a warm sensation trickle down her
cheek, her head was lacerated. Her ankle struggled to take her weight as she staggered
towards a tree for support. She looked down at her bare feet, blackened by thick mud.
Her white nightgown was torn and stained with blood; her once long, golden hair was
now smothered with grime and matted with clotted blood.

She took one step forward and suddenly, a cluster of sharp splinters put her foot
under siege with pain, as she stood on a stinging nettle. The pain momentarily jolted
Jane’s memory back into life, like a defibrillator attempting to revive a patient.
She saw her young son Billy motionless on his bed. The memory was brief, like a Polaroid photograph, but she instinctively understood
It’s grave reflection. Billy was dead.

Her heart started to race, and panic began to rise as she cycled through the scenarios
in her head. What had happened to her poor boy? Who would possibly want to hurt
him, a jealous ex-boyfriend? Or husband maybe? Jane couldn’t even remember if she
had a partner, let alone a psychotic one.

As her mind strained for clarity; a large, well lit house ahead of her captured Jane’s
attention. Did she live there, with Billy? If she was a single mom in a large house she
would be a vulnerable target. Maybe he was killed during a break-in, gone tragically wrong?
Suddenly a shadow of a figure moved through one of the lit windows. Maybe that’s one of the intruders she thought.
What if she has more family or children inside, asleep and unaware of the skulking murderer? She had to warn them.

As Jane made a move towards the house,
a man’s voice called out and pierced the air.
“C’mon Jane, I know your out here somewhere. You do realise you can’t escape”
The voice had an authoritative tone, and was close…very close.
Jane froze with terror, she was stricken in a perfect storm of emotions, and then adrenaline flooded her body and washed away all thoughts of pain or memory.
“Run Jane…run!” she whispered to herself.

She turned heel and began to run as quickly as her battered body would allow her. The man quickly pin pointed her bearings as she scuttled through the woods. Gun and flashlight in hand, he began pursuit.

Jane didn’t get far before the adrenaline began to dissipate from every muscle, the pain returned and began to increase with every step. She couldn’t run forever in this state. She had to find refuge, buy herself some time to recover, to think. She could hear the pursuer’s voice behind her, calling out into the darkness.
Confused, Jane hid amongst some dense shrubbery
and tried to piece together her memory.
Billy, her son, was dead.
This man following her, he knows her, but who is he? Did he kill Billy and is now looking to kill the only witness?

The man was only about twenty feet away now as Jane cowered amongst the shrubbery. The beam of the flashlight caressed the woods around her but failed to highlight her position. Jane held her breathing steady, and crouched as still as the night. The voice called out once more, trying to coax Jane out of hiding.
“C’mon Jane, sweetheart. This is silly. You know how this is going to end, just give it up now.”
The words seemed to pierce the veil that shrouded Jane’s memory.
“Sweetheart, you know how this is going to end.” Jane whispered to herself.

The words echoed around her head.
She held still, as she tried to focus her thoughts. She saw Billy in her memory, in a
hospital bed. He was attached to a drip, amongst other medical apparatus. There was animal themed wallpaper on the walls of his ward and a man with her, at the bedside. Not a doctor or a nurse though, he was comforting her, as an
unimaginable truth was realised.
"I know how this is going to end." whispered Jane.

Jane was jarred back to reality as she lost her balance; she reached for a loose array
of small branches in the shrub next to her, which instantly gave way under the pressure. The noise alerted her pursuer once again, and the chase was back on.

Jane ran. Her legs were like jelly and they struggled to carry her weight. She could
hear her stalker gaining; glancing behind her, she saw him ghosting through the trees
like a predator. As Jane redoubled her effort to evade him she constantly looked back.
He was close enough now for her to see he had a gun. Why would he have a gun Jane thought, if he didn’t plan on killing me? That thought produced an extra burst of adrenaline, but it only served to propel her faster into a chain-link fence at full pelt. The impact stunned her and she fell to the ground. Her vision began to blur.
Glancing left and right, the barbed wire fence seem to know no boundaries.

Confused, she pulled herself to her knees.
She pressed her face against the imprisoning, frost bitten steel. What is this? Jane thought. Where am I? She dropped to the floor, unable to run anymore, the pain too great, the despair overwhelming.

Her memory began to leak slowly into a lucid dreamscape. She saw Billy, now in his own bed, but still attached to a range of medical apparatus. He was sleeping, but awoke in pain.
“Make it stop mummy, make it stop.” Billy pleaded.
“I will honey. I promise, I will.”
Jane’s voice broke, as she fought back the tears.
Comforting him, she stroked his head.

Jane blocked the memory and slumped against the fence, waiting for the end. She would go to be with Billy now, Surrender her life and allow herself to become a victim of the murderous hunter that had relentlessly pursued her.
The man slowed to a walk as he approached. His flashlight dazzled Jane as he kneeled in front of her. He holstered the Taser-gun he was carrying and took out a hypodermic needle from a small medical box attached to his belt.
“Jesus Christ Jane. This is the second time this month. You trying to get my ass fired!?” said the man, a little short of breath.
Confused, Jane looked up at him. He had a security uniform on.
She focused her vision on his badge. It read…

ANDY WALKER
Cedar House
California State
Mental Institute.

Jane’s heart sank into her twisted, wretched stomach. As Andy injected her, she felt a warming sensation flood her veins as the fluid made
It’s way around her system.
“This will help you Jane, calm you down so neither of us get hurt.”

Semi-conscious, she glanced down at the now empty syringe, and the fleeting moment of warmth was obliterated by a searing explosion of memories detonating in her mind. Every piece of shrapnel carried an individual shard of the terrifying memories that had hid in the thick veil of amnesia.

Billy’s short, painful life ricocheted around Jane’s shattered mind. Her heart began to race. With every accelerated beat came another image, like a machine gun flooding her mind with a hailstorm of bullets. She began to fit, as the images of Billy’s life played out like a slide show in fast forward towards its chilling end. Andy took out his radio.
"Rob, this is Andy. We need a paramedic down here now!"
"You found Jane then?" Rob said nonchalantly.
"We have a code red Rob, I’m losing her."
"Shit! Help’s on the way buddy, hang in there."

Andy lay Jane down in the recovery position.
Then without warning, she vomited and the fitting stopped. Her eyes dilated as the last image bulldozed its way into her mind, she saw herself, sitting on a bed next to a motionless Billy. She was holding an empty syringe in one hand, the other hand placed lovingly on his smooth, hairless head with tears in her eyes.

The last image pounded in her head, steady like a blacksmiths hammer, slowing in rhythm until her heart synchronized with the flat-line of Billy’s heart monitor.
Andy whispered into his radio.
"She’s gone Rob, It’s too late. She’s gone."

THE END