The Evil of Hammond House Ch. 5

"Who are you? What do you want?" cried the doctor.

"Where is she? Where is Angela?" growled the intruder.

Dr. Hammond struggled along the table, but the blows had stunned him and several bits of glass had struck his face. His hand fumbled for the controls on the lab table and he managed to find the switch for the table lights. They snapped on, blinding the man with the pipe, but the doctor was too shocked to take advantage of his incapacity.

"Oh my God..." he screamed. "It's you!"

Many dreams later, Angela was reliving a visit to Cappio's, the Italian restaurant where Mark used to work. Brenda and Lisa had taken her there for her twenty-first birthday dinner and Mark managed had to get himself assigned as their waiter. He had done an incredible job, despite pushing the cork into the bottle of Chablis, and they were both planning to leave him a big tip. In Angela's dream, Mark was just bringing their dessert, Cappio's famous cannoli, when he suddenly dropped the tray. Wait, that didn't happen ...

... Angela awoke to the sound of clanging metal and crashing glass. She struggled to shake off the haze and stumbled towards the door. Outside she could hear yelling.

"Where is she you bastard? What have you done to her?"

"You? How can it be you?"

"I'm a ghost, come back to haunt you. Now where is she? If you've done anything to her I'll kill you. I swear it!"

Angela peered from her room to see Dr. Hammond, cut and bleeding, backed up against his lab table. All around him on the floor were scattered metal trays and tables, smashed pieces of equipment and glass fragments. Standing in front of him, silhouetted in the lights of the lab table, was a menacing figure wielding a piece of pipe in one hand. His back was to Angela, but something seemed familiar. That voice, that stance, that physical shape...

The joy of recognition swelled in Angela's heart.

"Mark..." she whispered to herself, stunned. "Dear God, it's Mark!"

Her lover, however he had survived, raised his pipe and brought it down on another batch of test tubes and beakers. It sent a spray of glass over both of them. Hammond cringed, but Mark didn't seem to care.

"Where is she?!" screamed Mark.

"She's here! She's safe! Please, just stop destroying my equipment! Those samples are all I have left!"

Angela's hand went to her belly.

"Show me where she is," Mark ordered the doctor. "Now!"

Hammond started to move towards the patient room, but then he saw her standing in its doorway. Mark turned with him and stopped dead as he saw her. She was looking ruffled, her hair a mess, the bruise still on her forehead from the accident in the van, her robe about to fall off.

"Angela! Are you all right?" he asked.

She nodded in assent, feeling too stunned at his miraculous resurrection to speak. At the same time, though, she took in his condition. Mark was looking worse than Hammond for bruises and cuts, not to mention a sling for his left arm and a pronounced limp in his left leg. His black sweats were torn and the exposed areas of skin were scraped and bloody. It was a wonder he could stand at all.

"Miss Smith, you shouldn't be up. You need a lot of rest after a procedure like this," said the doctor.

Mark's eyes blazed. "Procedure? What did you do to her?" He raised the pipe.

Hammond refused to be cowed. "She agreed to it. It was my research, my work. I had to do it. No one can take that from me, not even you!"

"What did you do to her?!" screamed Mark and cracked the pipe between the doctor's shoulders, winding him and sending him toppling forward into another equipment trolley. Angela stifled a gasp with her hand. She had never seen Mark like this before.

After a few moments Dr. Hammond rolled off the cart and fell onto his back. Blood was pouring out of his nose and mouth. Mark raised the pipe again. He was breathing heavily, and with apparent difficulty, as he tried to catch his wind and speak.

"You killed ... four good people ... tried to kill me ... and then you performed some perverted operation on Angela. How could you do this? How could you be so evil?"

The doctor's eyes filled, first with sadness, then with determination.

"Yes, Mr. Petri, I am evil. I killed your friends to protect myself. I cared nothing for their lives. Ending them was no more difficult to me then performing an appendectomy. You should have heard that Asian bitch beg for her life before I slit her throat, and I felt nothing after her heart stopped beating in my hand -- "

"You fucking pig!" Mark exploded and lifted the pipe high over his head, ready to smite the doctor's skull.

"Mark, no!" cried Angela. "Don't do it! Don't make yourself like him. You're not like that. He needs to live the rest of his life in prison remembering what he did. You don't. If you kill him you'll never be able to live with yourself!"

Mark slowly brought the pipe down and let it drop to the floor. As he did so, they heard voices from the door leading into the house and several state troopers rushed into the room, fanning out. One found the lights and turned them on. When they saw that the situation was safe, they put there guns away and preceded to pick up Hammond and cuff him. One of the troopers approached Mark and Angela.

"Are you all right Mr. Petri?" he asked.

Mark nodded. "Yes, lieutenant."

The trooper turned to Angela. "What about you, miss?"

She leaned on Mark and nodded her head. "I'll-I'll be all right. I just want to go home."

Mark wasn't so sure. "Angela, you really should have a doctor look you over. After what he did to you --"

"Mark, I'll do that later. After we've had a chance to talk."

He put his arm around her and walked her to the door. She turned and, for just a moment, stared at the impregnating machine. Then she turned back and left with Mark.

On the way through the basement Mark found where Hammond had stashed Angela's belongings, including her track suit and underwear, which she quickly put on, making her feel one hundred percent better. Then they went to the second floor to retrieve their items, as well as their friends' (knowing their families would want them). The sheriff's department and the coroner's people were already there picking up the pieces. Fortunately Robert and Carl's bodies were covered up when they walked in. That made it easier for both of them. Unfortunately the officers wouldn't let them take any of the packs or other items out until after everything had been photographed and cataloged. It looked like they would have to stay in the area for a few days. Not a pleasant prospect.

As they walked on the mezzanine towards the stairs, Angela glanced down the West Wing hallway and saw the window where Mark had fallen out the night before. She finally felt up to asking about it.

"Mark, how did you survive that fall?"

He chuckled in response. "I almost didn't. I broke my left arm, cracked my left leg, fractured several ribs. It hurts like hell. I was unconscious until long after the sun was up. I crawled to the gate and managed to find a branch to use for a crutch. After that I dragged myself to the highway and found a state trooper looking for us. He'd found the note I left at the van. When I told him what happened he called for back-up, but I said you were still up here and I could show him around the place. He was reluctant to risk me, but I insisted we look for you. I told him I would come back up here by myself if he didn't want to go. You more or less can figure it out from there."

She put her arms around his back and lay her head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. It was such a safe and reassuring sound.

"Just in case I didn't say it yesterday? I love you."

He kissed her, though it hurt, and started down the steps with her help.

"Just for the record, you did say it, but it's always good to hear it again. I woke up from that fall thinking it had all been a dream."

She let go of her smile for just a moment. "I wish some of it had been."

They walked silently out of the house.

The sun was beginning to go down when they emerged. The darkening driveway of Hammond House was filled with state police and sheriff's cars, ambulances and the coroner's wagon. People were everywhere, photographing this, measuring that. Many of them had been in the house and were now bringing out numerous items, including Hammond's black overcoat costume and the crossbow he'd used to murder Lisa, Carl and Robert. They also had the knife that ended Brenda's life. Then they started wheeling out their friends' bodies. Angela let the tears flow, no point in stopping them any longer. She needed to get it out, and it was comforting to look up and see that Mark, too, was crying.

Several officers wanted to talk with them. They tried their best to tell the story of the killings and of the fight with Hammond. Angela wasn't ready to discuss what had been done to her in the lab and the officer wouldn't press her right then.

After finishing the extensive interviews, they walked around a little bit. An EMT wanted to look at Mark's injuries, since some of the wounds were still bleeding. With reluctance, but at Angela's insistence, Mark complied. They sat there, holding hands, while the technician did his work. Occasionally Angela helped out, since the EMT's partner was looking at the damage Mark had done to Hammond. Watching him across the driveway, Angela began to wonder about the things he had said just before Mark tried to kill him. Had he really meant that about not caring about what he had done?

Hammond was bustled into a car to wait out the investigation. More questions were asked of the couple, but much of Angela's time was spent holding her abdomen and thinking about what she had been through. She looked up at the house and wondered if she could ever forget the place. Its stone edifice seemed to remain in her vision, even when she closed her eyes. It was going to be a long time before the pain would even begin to fade.

Suddenly there was a commotion. Angela opened her eyes and saw officers scrambling around the yard.

"He's escaped! Hammond knocked out one of the deputies and got his handcuffs off!"

"Where is he?"

"Check the house. Keep looking!"

While everyone was running around, trying to figure out what was going on, a man wearing a sheriff's jacket approached Mark and Angela. With the sun going down behind the trees, they found it hard to see him clearly until he was within a few yards. By then it seemed too late. It was Hammond, and he was holding the crossbow in his hands, the point of the bolt aimed straight for Mark's head.

"No!" Angela shouted.

The sound of several guns being drawn out and a shotgun being cocked was heard.

"Drop the weapon, Dr. Hammond. Put it down nice and easy."

The doctor seemed to be wrestling with himself, a look of resignation finally came to his face.

"Good-bye, Angela," he said. Only she and Mark heard it.

Hammond started to lower the crossbow, but then he brought it up sharply and pulled the trigger. Three bullets and a shotgun blast ripped through the physician's body in an instant, making him twist and splatter blood as he fell. Angela's scream died away slowly. Then all was still.

Mark was unharmed.

Angela was the first to kneel beside the dying body of Dr. Olias Hammond. Amazingly, he was still breathing. His eyes looked searchingly into hers.

"Margaret, Margaret..." he croaked.

"Oh my God," she heard Mark say.

He lifted the crossbow from the ground where the doctor had dropped it. The arrow was loose. It had never been locked down. The crossbow hadn't been cocked when he held it on them.

"He-he did this on purpose," Mark stuttered.

It all began to make sense to Angela now. When he had told Mark those things in the lab about not caring, he was goading Mark into killing him. He wanted to die so he could be punished for what he had done.

"Margaret, Margaret..." cried the doctor once more.

Angela, against all reason, took his hand.

"I'm not your wife, Dr. Hammond."

"Please forgive me. Please forgive me for what I've done."

More tears began to come to Angela's eyes.

"I'm not the one to ask forgiveness from, Dr. Hammond. I can't do that. You need to ask your wife and daughter when you see them. You need to ask God. I can't give you absolution. My soul will never be the same after what you've done."

He nodded with a jerk. "I understand."

The EMT came over to help, but it was obvious the doctor wasn't going to last very long. He did what he could.

Angela released Dr. Hammond's hand and it fell to the ground. She started to stand, but he reached out and grabbed her wrist.

"Angela, wait, please." He coughed up some blood, which the EMT tried to clean away. "Please, promise me -- promise you won't let my Stacy die. Please. I beg you. Don't let her die."

She glanced at Mark, who gave her a quizzical look. Then she looked down at the ground. Finally she looked at Dr. Hammond.

"Doctor, whose egg did you use for the procedure?"

His eyes glazed over.

"Doctor! Whose egg did you use for the procedure?"

His mouth moved, but she could barely hear the word. She put her ear to his mouth.

"Brenda," he gasped.

She sat up and watched as his eyes fluttered and his body shook. In a moment he would be dead.

"All right, Dr. Hammond. I'll take care of Stacy."

She felt his hand tighten around her wrist. The doctor managed a smile in his last moments.

"Thank you," he croaked, then turned his gaze skyward. "Forgive me, Stacy..." he uttered, and then stopped breathing.

The EMT turned to the troopers. "He's gone," he said, and packed up his equipment, leaving the officers to sit around the body of their prime suspect.

Angela turned to Mark and helped him stand up. Together they walked to the ambulance and crawled inside. Sitting in the back she lay her head on his shoulder and they held hands. Twenty minutes later the EMT found them sound asleep.

Eventually Angela and Mark returned to Eastern Colorado State, where news of the murder of four students rocked the University and surrounding community. Prayers were said, candlelight vigils held, articles written and scholarships started. Some people drank to forget, others went to student counseling for help in dealing with the pain and a few even dropped out of the semester. Among those, not surprisingly, were Mark and Angela. Their lives were turned on end for weeks after the incident. Telling the story -- what they would tell -- over and over again was a great strain on them, especially Angela, who seemed to be ill quite a bit of the time. Exceptionally stressful were the funerals and talking to the families of their friends. Lots of time was spent in planes and trains trying to get everywhere. They flew to San Francisco for Brenda's funeral and stayed with the Xu family, then took a train to San Diego for Lisa's. Her parent's were particularly devastated as she had been their only child. The day after that they flew to New York and met with Robert's uncle, Louis. They were unable to make it to Carl's funeral in Kingston, but they did get to speak to his mother when she came to the school to collect his things. With all they had to do, it was several weeks before Mark and Angela really had a chance to grieve.

Angela moved out of the apartment she had shared with Brenda and put her furniture in storage. It was too much too soon after her brutal death to remain in the place. Though Mark had asked her to move in with him she refused, telling him she needed time to herself. She wanted to go home to her family. Mark was inclined to do the same thing, but he was loathe to be away from Angela. She was often quiet and aloof and refused to talk about what had happened to her. Then there was the problem of her being sick much of the time. Mark was very concerned, but refused to pressure her into talking. Finally, a month after the tragedy, Angela told Mark what Dr. Hammond had done to her.

At first he was angry, swearing and shaking his fists in frustration, but then his anger gave way to tears. He apologized to Angela for being so selfish and wanted to know if he could to anything for her. She took his hand and asked him to promise to always be there when she needed him. He promised.

The next day they parted, Angela flying to Seattle and Mark to St. Louis. She spent several months at her sister Lucy's house near Mt. Rainier and he stayed with his mom and dad in their condo by the Mississippi. Both of them had their trouble talking to people. Angela couldn't talk to anyone but her sister. Her parents just wouldn't understand. Lucy was shocked at what had been done to her baby sister, but she managed to be understanding and reasonable in helping her come to a final decision about things. Mark could talk to his parents and they tried to understand. He was thankful they at least tried. Though they both missed each other greatly, Mark and Angela did benefit from their time away from school and the reminders of that night.

Mark returned to ECSU after a month in Missouri. He tried to pick up with his composing, but the inspiration just seemed to be gone. Maybe when Angela got back it would return. If she came back. Part of him felt he would never see her again.

A few months later, after a long night at work, Mark stumbled into his apartment and threw off his clothes, not even bothering to fold them or hang them over anything. He crawled into bed and fell soundly asleep. Sometime later he stirred when he felt someone crawling under the covers with him. He was still groggy, but he felt the warmth of bare, soft skin against his back. He turned over gradually and smiled as he recognized Angela's face. He put his arms around her, pulling her naked form against his, and kissed her tenderly. Her breasts rubbed against him and he let his hand wander down to them, caressing the firm balloons. She moaned, rolling onto her back. It was then that Mark realized something was different about her. Her abdomen had grown. He reached up and turned on the light.

"So you've decided?" he asked.

"Yeah," she whispered. "Lucy helped me work it out. I believe it's important for me to keep her."

Mark nodded absently as the debate in his mind continued. He thought he had made a decision, but his self-doubt couldn't seem to leave him alone. He had been wrestling with what he would do if Angela decided to keep the baby. He loved her and he had promised her would be there for her, but could he see the baby and not think about Hammond and his evil? He had come to the conclusion that he could accept it and would, if she decided not to abort it. Could he still keep to that choice? Yes, he had to.

"What have the doctors said?"

She smiled. "They did a lot of tests, which came out fine. I got an ultrasound done last week. Would you like to see the picture?"

"Yes. How clear is it?" he asked as she rolled over and grabbed her pocketbook off the floor.

"Pretty clear," she answered, rummaging through the folds of her purse. "Here she is."

Mark looked at the black and white photo. She watched his eyes light up at the sight. His gaze swept from the picture to her tummy and back. A huge smile, the kind she loved to see on his face, spread across his mouth. He propped the picture up on the nightstand and rolled over to put his head on her breast. Then he marveled at the beauty of Angela's swollen belly, running his hand down over the bulge in her tummy.

"It's so beautiful," he told her as he continued caressing her.

"I can't wait until you can hold her. I think she's going to be a darling."

He scooted up closer to her, laying his head on the pillow with hers. "Have you decided on a name?"

Angela cast her eyes down and began tracing her finger along Mark's hand. "I was thinking of Brenda. I thought that seemed appropriate, since it was her egg that Dr. Hammond used."