Full Circle - Part 3
#3 of Full Circle
Part three.
Andy was awoken by smell of smoke. He was laying on a mattress. Next to him there was a barrel with a fire in it. He pulled himself up to a sitting position with severe pain in his side. He looked around to asses his surroundings; this most certainly wasn't a prison. Around him he saw railroad tracks and train cars; to his left he saw a small shack. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness he saw a figure appear from the shack. The figure walked over to him and stood next to the mattress. As Andy looked at him, he couldn't help but recognize his face. The figure kneeled next to him and started talking.
"Morning! Well, actually it's 11PM, but I doubt it feels that way for you." Andy just stared back at him. "I found you in a train car. At first I thought you were just hitching a ride but when I saw the blood I figured you could use some help," said the figure, pointing to Andy's side. Andy looked at his side and saw that someone had bandaged him. The figure pulled something out of his pocket and held it in the light. "You had a bullet in you. I wonder how that got there? I would imagine someone wasn't too happy about you getting away, seeing how it entered from the back."
As the figure spoke Andy finally recognized him. He was a hyena and stood about five-foot 9; small compared to Andy's five-foot eleven. He was small in build and appeared to be in his late twenties; he had a conductor's uniform on. Andy never thought he would see his face again, especially not in these circumstances.
Andy gathered his thoughts. He finally spoke to the hyena.
"Why did you do this?" The hyena tossed the bullet to the ground.
"Why not? You obviously needed some help." Andy looked at his side again. The work looked as if it was done by a doctor. "I was an army medic for four years. After that, I decided to conduct trains. Heck of a career change, right?" The hyena stood up again. "My name's Otis, Otis Sullivan. You have a name that you are willing to share?" Andy looked at him. He wondered what he should tell him. He is innocent, he can tell him his real name.
"Andy Bradford." Otis looked at him, almost shocked.
"Well, that would explain the bullet wound." Otis turned around and grabbed a mug from a table by the shack. Andy turned towards the burn barrel.
"Has news spread that quickly?" Otis handed Andy the mug, It had lukewarm coffee in it.
"It's a small town, it spread." Andy still faced the barrel.
"Who do you believe?"
"I don't know," started Otis after a pause, "I haven't really paid much attention until now. I just remember your name from the news report." Otis grabbed another mug and sipped coffee out of it. "What are your plans now?" asked Otis as he stared into the fire.
"I need to make it right," said Andy as he struggled to stand on his feet.
"Hold on there," said Otis as he grabbed Andy's shoulder to help him up, "I would be careful; those stitches may not be of the best quality." Otis pulled two chairs out and sat in one of them. "What exactly do you plan on making right?" Andy looked at the chair and continued to stand.
"I don't care who you believe, but I didn't do it. I'm not sure what happened, but it wasn't me." Otis looked up at him from his seat.
"What do you plan on doing to make it 'right' then?" Andy turned and looked across the dark rail yard.
"I don't know yet."
After a moment of silence between them Otis stood up and grabbed a cluttered key-chain from the table. "Well, my shift is over, I was only here so you wouldn't wake up alone. You are welcome to come back to my place. It's secluded, no one else lives there." Andy thought about his offer. He looked around him; all he could see was rail yard. He knew he would never be able to make it by walking.
"How do I know I can trust you?" said Andy turning towards Otis.
"How do I know I can trust you?" said Otis. "I think we will have to take the chance." They both stood in silence for a moment.
"Where is your car?" Andy asked as he walked towards Otis.
"Only a little that ways; there is a service road. I park out there." Otis pointed but Andy could only see darkness.
Andy started walking towards the direction Otis pointed. Otis quickly poured a bucket of water onto the fire and rushed to Andy's side to help him walk. Andy brushed off Otis' hand.
"I can walk on my own," said Andy, wincing with every step he took.
"No, you can't. You were shot in the side. I dealt with guys like you, accepting my help doesn't make you weak," said Otis as he walked next to Andy. Andy turned towards Otis, still walking. Otis grabbed Andy's shoulder again. This time Andy accepted the help.
They finally made it to the car after what seemed like an eternity for Andy. It was a jeep; it wasn't going to be easy to get into. Otis helped Andy up and into the passenger seat. Otis then started the car and they drove up the dirt road. Otis tried to go slow as every bump was painful for Andy. Once on the highway, Andy fell asleep.
Andy was awoken again by the sound of a car door shutting. Otis had gotten out of the car and walked to the other side to help Andy get out. They made it to the door and entered the house. The house was a small log cabin deep within the woods. It was chilly and dark inside. Otis helped Andy down onto a sofa in the living room and lit a fire. The house lit up and Andy could see some of the living room now. He saw a calendar and read the date on it. October 12. Three days after the anniversary of the accident. He also saw a clock, which read 1AM. Otis looked at the clock.
"Thank God tomorrow is a Saturday. Would never be able to handle work staying up this late."
Andy had completely lost track of time while in jail. He only knew it had been a week because he overheard two guards conversing about his relocation. Otis left the room momentarily, then came back holding a college sweatshirt in his hand.
"I hope this fits. God knows I don't have anything else that will." Otis gave it to Andy and he pulled it over his head slowly, as to try and ease the pain of his wound. It fit a bit tight, but it would do for the night. "That should keep you warm for tonight at least. It's hard to heat this place." They sat for what felt like an hour around the fire. Otis turned to look at the clock.
"One-thirty, I figure it's time to call it a day. Or morning, however you want to look at it. You can sleep on the couch. I'll be in the loft." Otis turned to a ladder and climbed it. Andy propped himself up with some pillows and tried to fall asleep. Andy didn't even have thoughts that night, he just fell right asleep.
Andy started to wake up on his own that morning. The pain was a lot less than the night before. He sat up on the couch and looked around. The cabin looked different in the sunlight.
He looked at the time. It was 9:30AM, much later than he ever slept in normally. He then remembered everything that happened yesterday. He remembered Otis. He looked around; no sign of him. He struggled to get up off the couch before walking over to a window at the front of the cabin. Otis' jeep was gone. His attention was then drawn to a note on the inside of the door. Andy tore it off started to read it.
Gone to the store to get some stuff. Hope you don't head off before I get back - Otis. Andy walked into the kitchen and set the note onto the counter. He got a glass of water for himself, then waited for Otis to get back.
Andy was alerted by the sound of a car entering the driveway. He carefully looked through a window to see who it was. He recognized the face walking towards the house; it was Otis. Otis carried two paper bags with him. Andy let Otis into the house. He walked in and set the two bags onto the kitchen counter.
"I figured you may be staying here for a little while, so I may as well get some extra stuff. This place isn't really stocked for two people." Otis started unpacking the bags. Andy didn't really pay attention to what Otis bought; he was thinking about his plan, what he was going to do.
"How does bacon and eggs sound?" asked Otis, getting a frying pan out of a cupboard. It took a while for the question to finally register to Andy.
"I'm not really hungry." Andy hadn't eaten much at all since he was taken into jail; he just didn't have an apatite. Otis lit the stove.
"More for me then." Andy sat down on a stool at the island. Otis turned to look at him as he prepared breakfast. "So tell me a bit about yourself, Andy." Andy looked at Otis. He hadn't had a normal conversation with someone for so long that it came as a shock to him. Andy discarded the question.
"How far are we from town?" asked Andy, turning towards the front of the cabin.
"About fifteen minutes. Nobody is going to come looking here. Not unless they are desperate," said Otis, pointing the same direction with a butter knife. Otis set a plate on the counter with breakfast on it. Andy ignored it.
"If you drive me into town I should be able to handle things on my own from there." Otis looked at Andy while he chewed a piece of bacon.
"And what do you plan on doing once you get into town, exactly?" Andy sat quietly, he could tell Otis wasn't going to take silence as an answer.
"I don't know," answered Andy. Otis had a look of content on his face.
"Sounds like you need a partner. You are wanted at this point, criminal or not. You can't go hopping around town anymore, especially looking like that." Otis pointed at Andy's hands. His fur was stained with blood. "The bathroom is back there. Go shower, then we can put together a plan." Otis pointed towards a door.
Andy made his way into the bathroom. He shut the door and flipped the light on.
He was caught off guard by his own reflection in the mirror; he looked rough. His fur was dirty and ruffled. He took off the sweatshirt and looked at the blood stains all over his side and hands; he truly looked like a murderer now. He thought back to the morning a week ago. He wished he could go back to that.
He turned on the water and stepped into the shower. The water turned red as the blood washed out of his fur. The warm water was a relief from the cold cabin. His mind wandered as the water ran off of him; it wandered to things he often didn't think about. His mind was deep in thought when he was startled by a knock at the door, followed by Otis' voice.
"You okay in there? Hope you didn't pass out." Andy replied quickly.
"I'm fine." The bathroom door then opened and closed quickly.
"I set a bag in there; it has some clothes I bought. They are a bunch of different sizes so I hope something fits you." Andy turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. He looked down at the bag and pulled the clothes out of it. Most of them were plain T-shirts in various colors. There were also a couple pairs of jeans. He picked out a shirt and pair of pants that fit him and got dressed. He opened the bathroom door and walked back into the kitchen. Otis noticed him walking in.
"Well, you sure look a lot better; looked like hell earlier. At least now you won't look like a murderer." Andy smiled at the comment; he had't smiled all week. It quickly left his face when he noticed it. Andy paused for a moment as he rubbed his neck.
"Uh, thanks for the clothes, they fit fine." Otis looked at the clothes that Andy had put on.
"Good. So now that you're all cleaned up lets talk about what you plan to do exactly." Andy walked over and sat down on a bar stool across from Otis quietly for a moment, thinking.
"There was a witness," Andy started, grasping Otis' attention. "They came forward and said they saw me leaving the house with blood on me. They were lying; when I left the house I didn't have any blood on me, she was perfectly fine." Otis sat looking at Andy as he spoke. When Andy finished, Otis sat up and put a toothpick in his mouth.
"Most of the time, if you are testifying as a witness against a murderer, you want to keep your name secret. Exactly how do you plan on finding them?" Andy sat quietly again before answering.
"I don't know." Otis sat down again with his hands on the counter.
"How about I make a suggestion?" Andy didn't reply. Otis took this as a yes. "Why don't we go check out the house? By now there aren't going to be any cops there; they already have all the evidence they need." Andy sighed.
"What is there to find? If there was anything that proved it wasn't me, I wouldn't have to be sitting here with you right now." Otis sat back in his seat at this comment. Andy didn't understand why. Otis stood up and started to wash the dishes from breakfast. He spoke without looking at Andy.
"Well, I'll just drop you off in town then; you seem to have it all figured out."
After that, Otis silently cleaned up the kitchen as Andy sat watching.
The ride into town was long and quiet; the only sound to be heard was the rumble of Otis' jeep's engine. Andy didn't know why Otis wasn't talking now. It shouldn't have bothered him though, as he was just helping him for a day, but it did. Otis pulled into the parking lot of an abandoned restaurant In a less-densely-populated part of town.
"This is it then. I wish you luck," said Otis as he turned the car off.
Andy suddenly didn't want to go. He didn't want to be alone again, but he knew he had no choice. Andy got out of the car slowly and shut the door without a word to Otis. Otis sat in the car for a moment, doing nothing until Andy started to walk away. Andy then heard the car start and Otis drove away.
Andy changed up his clothes just a bit before leaving the house. He put on a baseball cap that covered most of his face and wore a gray hoodie; he hoped this would lessen his chance of being recognized. It had been a while since Andy was in town. He looked around to get his bearings, then headed down the street. Delores' house wasn't far from where Otis dropped him off; Andy was thankful for this as his side started to hurt halfway into his walk.
He turned onto the street where Delores' house was. He looked around cautiously, making sure there weren't any police around. He then started the walk to the house. He approached the house; it was covered in police tape that had fallen off in most places. He knew he couldn't enter through the front door. He walked around to the back and located the rear door; it was unlocked. Andy almost forgot how cluttered Delores' house was until he opened the door. He groaned as he saw the path he had to take to make his way through the house. He carefully walked through the kitchen towards the living room. As he approached the living room he saw the outline on the floor. The carpet was stained with blood near the head of the outline. There weren't any evidence markers on the floor, just the outline. He looked around the room; he didn't see anything out of place. That's what struck him, the front door. There were several locks on the door, none of which were broken. He knew that Delores always locked them all, even when she was in the house. She must have let the killer in willingly. He decided to check the few winblows that weren't blocked by piles of clutter. They were all nailed shut; not surprising for someone as paranoid as her. He looked around the house, limping now as his side started to hurt more severely, looking for anything the police might have missed; he found nothing.
He limped into the bedroom and looked at the neatly made bed. He didn't want to sit on it, it just wouldn't be right. He slowly sat down next to the bed with a groan, positioning himself so that he could look out the front window. At this point he wanted to sit there with just his thoughts.
Andy was startled by the slam of a car door. He didn't remember falling asleep, but he must have as it was dark now. He pulled himself up and pushed the curtain away from the window. He saw a hooded figure getting out of a car across the street from him. The figure walked towards the house closest to the car. The porch light gave Andy a good look at his face. Andy suddenly froze; he recognized the figure. After all this time, Andy never thought he'd find him. Andy tried to stand on his feet quickly. He hobbled through the living room, knocking things over. He made his way out the back door and to the side of Delores' house.
The figure entered the house opposite to Andy, but he could wait. He had already waited two years. The house the figure entered looked almost abandoned; the paint on the outside was peeled and one of the front winblows had been smashed and boarded up. There were lights inside, showing that it wasn't completely abandoned.
Andy didn't know what time it was, but darkness had almost fully set in. Andy leaned against a tree, watching the house, thinking of what he should do. He had two years to think about it, but never expected to be able to do anything. Suddenly he heard a noise from the house. The storm door opened and slammed shut. The figure stepped onto the porch and pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. This was Andy's chance. He pulled himself up and started to run, his side hurting even more. The figure saw him and dropped the pack of cigarettes to run, darting around the side of the house. Andy ran faster, keeping the figure in his sight. The figure made it to the backyard of the house before tripping and falling to the ground. Andy made it to him just in time, pinning him to the ground. Andy caught his breath and pulled back the figure's hood. His eyes adjusted to the darkness and he saw the figures face.
He froze again. He felt as though his blood stopped flowing.