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Scene #13
Ghostly Encounter
Prologue
The dream started the same way. She saw her best friend's kidnapping. Saw him being thrown into the old black truck, saw the man hit him, saw him slump into the floorboard. She felt the fear over and over, woke to tears and screams. Felt the same sense of helplessness that she felt as a 9 year old girl. She saw the kidnapper over and over in her dreams, but could never remember his face when she woke. Twenty years and the dream stayed the same, until tonight.
Chapter 1 Samantha Planter knew she was dreaming. She knew how the dream would end. She would have to watch her best friend, Greg Johnson's kidnapping. Knew she would see the kidnapper's face, and knew she would not remember when she woke. Hundreds of times over the past twenty years, she saw the same thing, but tonight, something was different. The boy in the dream was not Greg. He was around the same age, 11, had a similar look, slender, dark hair, small build, but this boy was not Greg. Sammie looked around her, noticing the differences, newer model truck, different houses but the same feeling of helplessness. She watched as this different boy was grabbed and thrown into the truck. He was quickly tied up and tape placed over his mouth.
Sammie screamed "NO" and frightened herself awake. Knowing that sleep would no longer be possible, she slipped out of bed and made her way to the bathroom. Splashing cold water on her face she looking into the mirror and saw the fear and the sadness in her own eyes. Twenty years today Greg had been taken. He had never been found. Being a police officer, she knew that he was dead, knew that the man that had taken him had killed him, she knew all of this, but, sometimes, she felt him. Knew that he was with her. Tonight she felt his presence.
"I'm sorry I could not help you" she said out loud. "Sorry that you were never found." A single tear slid down her cheek.
She jumped as she felt a finger brush the tear away. She gave a short scream as she looked into the mirror and saw the faint reflection of a man. She turned and ran back into the bedroom, to the dresser where she kept her gun. Her hands were shaking as she grabbed the gun, and turned back toward the bathroom.
"Who's there?"
The man appeared at the door.
"I will shoot you. Who are you?"
"Come on Sammie, don't you recognize me? I'm hurt; we spent almost every day together as kids."
Sammie looked closer, tall, dark hair, bright green eyes, the scar running along his chin. Sammie also noticed that he did not appear quite solid, she could see the door frame behind him.
"Greg?" Disbelief colored her voice. "I must still be dreaming" she muttered to herself. "I'm going to wake up in the morning and feel really dumb, talking to a "ghost" in my dreams, I must need a vacation."
"No Samantha Jane, you are not dreaming. I'm really here, well OK, maybe not "really", but I am here."
"Don't call me Samantha Jane" she automatically replied. "OH SHIT, Greg?" Sammie knew that no one ever used her full name, no one but Greg when he wanted to tease her. "How is this happening?" She was still not convinced that she was not dreaming, but, she would go with it for now.
"I don't know Sammie, I just know that something bad is happening and it is tied to what happened to me all those years ago. He is back, he will take another boy. I'm not sure how, but I know I need to help you catch him, stop him."
"Can you describe him? Give me any information about him?"
"I can try. Everything is mixed up for me. I feel like I have been asleep for so many of those years. I saw you, watched you grow up, watched you grieve for me, watched you for so long. I talked to you, but you never heard me."
"I felt you with me, I just thought that I was imagining you."
"Sammie, you need to find the other boys, you need to find me. The man will not stop killing."
Sammie took a step toward Greg, just as he began to fade. "Wait....", but he was gone. She walked over to the doorway, but nothing was there. Just as she was going to step into the bathroom, her cell phone rang. Stepping back toward the dresser, she checked the caller ID and was stunned to see a number displayed that she thought she would never see again Brandon Caine a Detective with the Dallas PD.
Flipping the phone open she said "Planter here."
"Samantha, it's Brandon."
"Hi Brandon. I'm surprised to hear from you."
"I'm sorry to disturb you this late, but I need some help."
"What can I do for you?" Sammie decided that she could be as professional as he was, even if all she could think about was their last night together. They had met at a law enforcment conference in Dallas, she was an officer from a small West Texas town, and he was newly promoted to Detective in the Dallas PD. Sammie had never believed in lust at first sight, until she laid eyes on Brandon. Six foot three inches of prime Texas man. Black hair, sky blue eyes, and the look of a man who knew how to please a woman. They did not make it out of the hotel room for two days after the conference ended. That Sunday the sex was as hot as the argument.
Sammie was jolted out of her thoughts as she heard Brandon say "Samantha, my best friend's son has been kidnapped. He was kidnapped in your town, we need your help."
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