Skin to Skin Ch. 04

"I'll talk to you!" I told her retreating back. "I'll text your phone when I get home tonight!"

"Okay!"

I listened to Lynn's footsteps as she climbed up the stairwell. Once I was sure that she was on the second floor, I walked away from the staircase and further into the living room. I walked over to the couch and proceeded to clean up the light clutter. I organized the contents that were on the octagon-shaped coffee table. I removed the DVD from the Samsung player and organized the small stack of DVD covers that were on the entertainment system. Then, I walked over to the space that was in between the couch and coffee table. I grabbed one of the folding TV trays and was about to fold it close, when I heard an anchor's voice play from Lynn's sixty-inch television.

"...A tragedy occurred in the Bowery section of Manhattan which left three people dead and two people seriously injured. The tragedy stems from an ugly hate crime in which the victims are a mother and her two young children. The perpetrators were a gang of Neo-Nazi Skin Heads..."

I turned my head so quickly that a sharp pain burst in the tendon. I turned my attention to the television and stared at the screen. The folding TV tray slipped from my hands and fell onto the carpeted floor. I had an 'out of body' experience, as clichéd as it sounds. I didn't feel normal. My hands and feet tingled. There was a tennis ball-sized lump wedged into my throat. According to my vision, everything appeared slowed down. The only thing that appeared normal was the news program that was playing from Lynn's television. I stared at the screen and into the eyes of Kaity Tong, the news anchor.

"...The incident occurred in the early hours of Friday morning. For more information, our Tony Megars is at the scene of where this brutal crime had taken place..."

The news program changed to another shot. Now there was a shot of another news anchor. It was a handsome man, who wore a three-piece suit and too much foundation on his face. He stood in the center of an asphalt street, in an empty neighborhood. The background showing more of the empty street and the night's sky. The headline "Tony Megars, the Bowery District, Lower Manhattan" was displayed at the bottom of the screen.

"Thank you, Kaity" the anchorman said into his microphone. "During the early hours of Friday morning, twenty-five year old mother and dental hygienist Carolina Faye was traveling from Buffalo, New York to her parents' home in Ridgewood, Queens, when her car suddenly experienced car trouble after one of her children had to use a bathroom. By then, Carolina was in the lower Manhattan, in the Bowery District, so she thought that she could find help right away. Instead, Carolina found disaster—

The camera's focus shifted to the area that was behind the camera man. It was an empty intersection. There weren't any houses or any other types of residential homes. There were abandoned buildings and dilapidated structures, as well as, closed auto-body garages.

"—on Mott Street. Carolina Faye, a mother of two children, was driving in her 1996 Honda Accord had managed to pull her car along the curb without getting into any accidents..."

There was new footage on the television screen. In this new footage, it was a woman. She was sitting upright in a hospital bed, in a hospital room. The woman's oblong-shaped face was heavily bruised and scarred. There were stitches that held her top lip together, as well as, keeping the flesh above her left eyebrow held together. Her right eye was swollen four times its usual size and covered with a bruise. The bruise started at her hairline and ended at her jawline. Her long, elegant neck was covered with purple bruises. There was a blood clot in the sclera of her left eye. On the bottom of the screen, there was another headline and it consisted of just a name, 'Carolina Faye'.

"This is Carolina Faye," the reporter's voice narrated as they showed the woman.

"I had received a call from my mother," Carolina had spoken with her light-weight Filipina accent. "My grandfather was taken to the hospital and he was dying. My grandfather and I are very close, so I knew that I needed to be there for him. I live in Buffalo with my husband and my children. We don't have a lot of money to buy plane tickets and I know my way by car, so I drove. On my way onto the FDR, my son told me he needed to use the restroom, so I got off the highway to find a gas station. I had gotten off of the highway and I knew that I was in Manhattan. During that time, my car stopped driving—

The footage changed again and I was staring at Tony's makeup-layered face.

"And that's when the trouble began. Carolina's car had managed to stall in this neighborhood. She was able to park her car here..."

Tony stood on the edge of a sidewalk's curb. With the index card that he held in his left hand, he pointed to the street. The camera operator had shown the asphalt street.

"Ever since Carolina's son, ten year-old son Eduardo, couldn't find a bathroom, he had to be resourceful. So the Faye Family left the safety of their car and..."

Tony the anchorman had walked away from the curb, over to the façade of an abandoned building.

"...came over here, so the young boy could use the bathroom. After young Eduardo was finished, the Faye's turned back around to go back to their car. But, when they approached their car, there was trouble waiting for them. A small group of Skin Heads were waiting for them. According to Carolina and her son, there were eight of them: seven men and one woman. According to ten year-old Eduardo, these thugs did not say anything to them. They just attacked. Based off the testimony of the young boy, three men and the lone woman had assaulted Carolina while one held onto two year-old Ivelisse and two men assaulted ten year-old Eduardo. As Carolina was beaten down to the ground, she heard the men cruelly taunt her two year-old daughter—

Carolina's battered face was presented to me again. In this scene, the young woman was crying. Her face was coated with tears.

"I could hear them yell at my children," she sobbed. "They were saying such..." Her voice had trailed off so she could cry. She released a few sobs and gasps. Her chest heaved with every gasp. "They were saying such horrible things to them. And then I felt someone grab my jacket and rip it off me—

I was greeted by Tony Megars' face again. "Just when Carolina thought that she was going to die, she was saved by an unlikely hero—

Carolina's face was shown again. She wasn't crying, but her face was still shining with moisture. "I heard a man yell at them to stop. And the men and woman stopped beating on me," she reported with a firmer tone of voice. "He had told them that were crazy and they were asking for trouble. Then he yelled at them to leave me and my kids alone. He told them they needed to go back to the house. I remember that part very well because he said it more than once. He said they needed to go back to the house."

I heard Tony's voice say, "He said they should 'go back to the house'?" Carolina nodded her head. "He said they should 'go back to the house'?" She nodded her head again.

'YES, YOU IDIOT!' my brain screamed at the television screen.

"And then one of the men who attacked me told him they were going to kill me and my children. At that point, my son began to cry louder. The guy who had shown up didn't say anything at first. I don't know what he was doing because I couldn't see anything. But then I heard a loud 'Boom' noise. It sounded like thunder. It made my ears rang. I had a loud ringing noise playing in my ears. Then I felt something hit me on the back of my head while I was on the ground. Once the boom noise was gone, I heard my kids scream and then there was another boom..."

I watched Carolina subtly shake her head.

"After that I must've passed out because that is the last thing I remember. The next thing I remember is waking up in this room—

There was more footage of Tony as he stood on the empty street. "According to Carolina's son, the 'boom' noises were actually gunshots. Their hero had pulled out a gun from his jacket and had shot two of the men. The first man was the person who said that he was going to kill the mother and the kids and the second was a person who charged at the gunman. Once the second body landed on the ground, the other thugs left the scene of the crime. Then, according to the young boy, the gunman had picked up an unconscious Carolina and carried her back to her car. Then, in a shocking turn of events, the gunman told Eduardo to use his mom's cell phone to call the police. We have an exclusive excerpt from the '911' call..."

Next, the program showed a cheesy graphic that had closed captioning for the transcript of the 911 recording. I listened to a little boy who sounded frightened and on the verge of crying, but he was trying to remain strong. He was acting strong for his mother and baby sister. Despite being in the eye of the storm, Eduardo Faye remained calm enough to give the 911 operator information.

After the 'news exclusive' was shown, Tony the reporter was shown on my screen. He still stood in the center of the street. "It didn't take police long to arrive at the scene and when they did, they were welcomed with a grisly scene."

There was new footage. This time, there was a police officer being interviewed. A headline was posted at the bottom of the screen. "Det. Atticus Fench, NYPD" was added to the footage.

'How odd,' I thought as I read the detective's name.

"When police officers arrived, they found two bodies lying on the sidewalk and the Faye Family was hiding in their car," the police officer explained with a deep Brooklyn dialect. "Her two children, ten year-old Eduardo and two year-old Ivelisse were sitting in the backseat of the car while Mrs. Faye was positioned in the driver's seat of the car. She was unconscious when the officers arrived. Her son was actually using a t-shirt to compress the wounds on his mother's face. Paramedics having arrived fortunately, and was able to take Mrs. Faye and her children to a nearby hospital."

There was another shot of Tony Megars. "While the Faye Family was being treated at the hospital, NYPD's Finest were on the search for the thugs who attacked the family and the mysterious gunman, who left the scene before the police arrived. Turns out, police managed to complete one objective..."

There was more of Tony's narration, when another bit of footage was displayed. In this new scene, it was another location of the Bowery District. Just like the crime scene in which the Faye Family was assaulted, this neighborhood was empty and made up of abandoned buildings. In this footage, there were police squad cars parked in the street and haphazardly on the sidewalks. There were cops standing in the street and on the sidewalks. Then there was a shot of a body that lay in the middle of the street. A white sheet covered the corpse. There was a blood stain on the white sheet.

"...According to a police officer who requested to remain anonymous, police officers had approached a small group of five Caucasians who were walking down Mott Street. The gang of thugs refused to cooperate with the police officers and attacked the officers. As a result, police officers opened fire. Two of the gang members were taken down by the police officers. One member was killed while the other members were seriously wounded. From what we were told, the dead member is a woman and the other gunshot victim was a man. For the deceased, her age could've ranged from sixteen years to twenty-nine years old..."

'Oh my God,' I murmured in my mind.

The notion that someone's sixteen year-old baby was slain and left in the middle of the street, entered my mind. Then I began to wonder if she had caring parents, who were waiting up and wondering about their daughter's whereabouts. Or did she have the type of parents who were selfish and neglectful? Were they abusive towards her? Was she a New York native or was she raised in some other State?

"...The other shooting victim-slash-suspect was taken to Bellevue Hospital Center, where he is expected to recover from his wounds. From what we know about this man, he is in his late teens and early twenties. Based off the apparel he was wearing during the time, he is a part of some type of Neo-Nazi Movement. He is also considered to be a suspect in the attack of Carolina Faye.

Speaking of Carolina Faye, she is expected to make a full recovery from her injuries. She was kept in the hospital, so her Doctors could observe her overnight. According to August Faye, Carolina's husband, their children are physically okay, but they are still pretty shaken up about the whole ordeal. Hopefully, the police will catch the rest of the thugs who did this heinous act before they are given the chance to do it to someone else. I'm Tony Megars, reporting live from the Bowery District, Lower East Side of Manhattan. Back to you, Kai—

The television screen had gone black. The living room was silent. 'What-the-hell just happened to the television?' I wondered. Then I felt my fingertips brush against a hard piece of rubber. I stared down at my hands and saw the remote control nestled against my palms. 'What?' my brain muttered. I didn't even know I had the remote control. Then I realized I was sitting on the couch. I didn't remember when I sat down on the brown, microfiber couch. 'How did I...?'

Then I began to think about the events that had just unfolded. A woman and her young children were attacked and left with enough horrible memories that will probably haunt them for the rest of their lives. Three people were killed and one person was hospitalized. All I could think about was that Malachi was involved with these crimes someway.

~oMRo~

The image of Carolina Faye's battered face stayed inside of my mind as I drove home that night. I tried not to think about Carolina and her two children, but my mind couldn't stop thinking about them.

I drove my car into my driveway and drove up to the seven-foot-tall wooden gates. On the other side of the tall gates, there was the other half of the driveway and it was the location where I parked my car. I exited my car and was greeted by a chilly wind. I felt the flesh on my arms pucker into goose-pimples while I shuddered. I used my right hip to shut the car's door as I rubbed my forearms. I walked towards the front of the car and slipped into the space in between the car and the gates. I used the car's bright headlights as an aid to see. I unlocked the gate and pushed the doors open. I traveled back to the car. I pulled the car into the other half of the driveway and came to halt before my car could enter the backyard. I turned off the engine and stepped out of my vehicle. I retrieved all of my belongings from the trunk of the car before I headed towards my ranch-style house.

I walked down the driveway and into my backyard. The backyard was showered with light, courtesy of the security lights mounted on the side of the house. I climbed up the steps of my deck that led to the back door of my house, walking over to the black, wrought iron storm door. I looked down at my Coach purse and proceeded to unfasten the clutch that kept it together. I was on the search for my house keys.

'Where are they?' I wondered as I stared at the miscellaneous items that I stored. 'Come on, you blasted piece of—

A strong wind that was chilly and heavy struck my back and caused my cotton dress to flutter. I jerked and a squeal escaped from my mouth.

"Ooooh, why is it so fucking cold out here? It's August, for Pete's sake!" I stuck my right set of fingers into the bag. I used my fingertips to search for my keys. "Alright, where did I put my stupid keys?" Another strong wind swept through my backyard and nipped at every sliver of bare skin. "Got-damn it," I groaned as my search for my stupid house keys continued.

The wind stopped blowing fortunately. As soon as the wind stopped blowing, the humidity and temperature had returned. I was thankful for it as I stood on the deck and outside of my house. It was at this moment when I first heard it. My fingertips grazed the plastic cap that was attached to my tube of lip gloss at the time. I recognized the sound when I first heard it.

There was an inhale. A millisecond later, I heard an exhale. It was the sound of someone breathing.

I knew it hadn't come from me. Suddenly, I felt an odd but familiar feeling. The last time I felt this sensation was over two months ago. I felt my body being pulled away from the storm door. I felt my purse slip out of my hands. The plastic handles from the shopping bags dug cruelly into the skin of my left wrist. I felt a thick band of strength wrap around my midsection and another band of strength wrap around my collarbone and shoulders. I heard the sound of my keys hit the wooden floorboards of the deck. I heard the storm door slam horribly against the frame. Finally, I felt my body slam against a large substance that was hard.

My levels of fear shot up. I followed my basic instinct which was to struggle against this person. I tried to elbow this person's torso. I tried to kick his shins with the heels of my feet. I tried to stomp down on his toes. But I couldn't move.

There was a raspy groan which was followed by a gasp. The grip became tighter against my torso.

"Chloe."

The voice sounded somewhat familiar, but the voice was altered. The voice belonged to a man.

"Chloe, please don't scream," he told me. His voice sounded softer. It sounded weaker.

"Malachi?" I said softly.

"Yeah, it's me," he murmured.

"Can you let me go?" I asked him.

"Y-Yeah."

He removed his arms from off my torso. I quickly stepped away from him and turned to face him. He stood in front of me, a few feet away. His face was covered with a hood that was attached to the jacket that he wore. His right arm was pressed against his stomach. I saw that his tall and bulky frame was violently shaking.

"What's wrong with you?" I asked him.

"C-C-Can I-I-I-I c-c-c-ome in..." His voice trailed off. He released a gagging sound from his mouth. He turned away from me and he trotted over to the deck's railing. He hunched over the railing and proceeded to vomit.

He continued to vomit while I walked over to where he was standing. I stood next to his hunched form and placed my hand on his back. I rubbed his massive back as he emptied his stomach. His body trembled under my touch. Once the gagging and heaving stopped, he coughed a few times. I tried to look at his face.

"Malachi, have you been drinking?" I asked him.

"No," I heard my friend's brother gasp.

"So, what's wrong with you?"

"Can I come inside?" he inquired with a steady voice.

"Yeah," I said to him as I removed my hand from off his back. "You can come inside."

I walked away from Malachi and traveled to the back door. I picked up my purse, my keys and the other objects that were on the floor. Then I proceeded to unlock and open the back door. I stepped inside of my lit den and glanced over my right shoulder to stare at Malachi. I found him, still on the deck. I saw his struggles to stand upright. His body shook as he slowly rose.

'Something is wrong,' I thought as I stared at him.

"Malachi?"

"Yeah, I'm coming," I heard him say to me. His voice was strained.

'Oh yeah, something is definitely wrong.'

I placed my shopping bags on the floor, by the side of the doorway. I stepped back onto the deck and traveled over to where Malachi stood. I placed a supportive hand on his back and my other hand on his left wrist. I felt him tense up.

"Come on, let me help you," I told him before slipping my head in between his arm and ribs. In this position, I smelled the scent of blood and metal on him. It caused my stomach turn with nausea.