The Christmas Darling

Chapter 8

The paramedic's tall lanky frame entered the room fully and presented itself as a light in the darkness. The savior that was urgently needed so many times but never showed his face. With a nervous grin and a goofy smile, "It's good to see you again. How are you feeling?"

Jennifer was cautious at this point to ensure she was safe in this person's company, "Well, I'd feel much better if you hadn't told the police about my intoxicated babbling last night."

Shuffling his feet like a child, "Oh, gorgeous, that wasn't me. That was Ed. He drives the rig; I work the patients."

Convinced but not enough to risk her life on it, "Well, that's good to know. Lift up your shirt, drop your pants and empty your pockets."

A weak attempt at a rebuttal was made but failed, "What? You want..."

Barking, "Now! Or get the hell out!"

Jennifer had never seen someone disrobe so fast in her life. As he lifted his shirt, the fluorescents bounced off his name tag, 'Derrick'. Derrick the Paramedic had seven condoms, two rolls of breath mints, six and a half bucks in loose change, and a bottle of Vicodin that did not belong to him in his pockets. All that along with his wallet that read, 'Stud Found' on it in black gothic letters on a light brown leather backdrop.

His stomach stuck out more than his chest but not by a significant margin. Derrick looked at Jennifer with wondering eyes, waiting patiently for permission to dress again and continue with the proposition.

With a swirl of her finger, he was allowed to dress, "Why are you helping me? What's in it for you?"

Derrick let off a wild squeaky laugh, "Shit, for one I'll stay off your list. Two, I'm a fan. And 'C', you're hot."

No need to argue over semantics, Jennifer was hot, in a female serial killer sort of way. Her face was symmetrical and smooth; it was attached to a body that was toned and powerful. Hot was the infantile description given and, in this moment, it would have to remain.

Keeping her face from distorting with laughter, "Here's how this is going to work Derrick the Paramedic, you present your plan to me, even though I am not who you think I am. If I approve of said plan, we will wait until the most opportune time to execute it which will be determined by me. You will remain within my range of vision until the plan has been fully executed and then you may leave. If the plan fails, you will die...slowly."

Paramedic Derrick did not know that Jennifer had morals and a code. He was ignorant to the fact that she killed for balance, not for sport.

With each word, the goof ball shook his head like one of those dashboard hula dancer novelties, which Jennifer was sure he had more than one and waited his turn to deliver the plan of the century for our Christmas Darling. Jennifer had stopped talking minutes ago but kept her face stern and authoritative, like how one would tell a dog to stay and slowly walking away backwards to see how long the little puppy will obey.

Derrick pinned his head sideways, "How do you feel about playing dead? You cool with that?" He smacked on a piece of gum annoyingly.

With a shrug of her shoulders, "I'm game for just about anything; just don't try to take advantage of my delicate body while I'm faking my dirt nap. Clear?"

Showing his crooked yellowed teeth, "Deal. I'll be back." Derrick practically sprinted from the hospital room, some of that speed had to be motivated by fear but most of it was the ability to help someone he was a fan of.

All fell silent, no police, no security; the beeping monitor had relaxed as the day drifted into the night. The only sound in the room was the constant buzzing of the overhead lights. They were hypnotizing and chronically horrid.

An hour had passed and there was no sign of Derrick the paramedic. Jennifer was beginning to feel she would have to make her escape solo. She had no clothes, less this horrible hospital gown and she was not terribly thrilled about having to pull out her own I.V. Desperate times call for desperate measures and this situation was agonizingly inching towards desperate.

Minutes had passed since Jennifer started plotting her escape. Outside her door she could now hear whispers and planning. This is exceptionally worrying as she was still trapped with no way out. The whispered floated closer, a conversation of some urgency was taking place right outside.

Suddenly, the door to her room burst open and a nurse appeared leading a gurney. Followed close behind was Derrick with an even goofier look on his face, "Darling, this is going to happen fast. Just go with the flow and stay as fake dead as possible."

In a matter of seconds, the nurse had stripped the itchy hospital bedding and removed the wildly long I.V. from Jennifer's arm. With a heave, Jennifer was tossed onto a gurney and covered with a thick warm blanket. All of her was hidden under the smothering covering except for her feet.

"Hope you're not ticklish honey." The nurse grabbed her foot and put something on her toe.

In a frantic state, "Alright, all good Maddie? Toe tag in place? Clear a path and I'll do the rest."

The gurney jerked and entered a level of speed that seemed unnecessary and reckless. Jennifer spoke out, "I'm dead, not dying. Calm down."

Derrick slowed himself down and proceeded down the hallway. The elevator was queued and waiting with the door open alarm intermittently blaring out. As Derrick pushed the gurney closer and closer to the open doors, he passed the detectives who had taken up camp in the waiting room.

They appeared to be discussing a way forward, a way to break Jennifer down into a confession and a subsequent apprehension. The two did not even bat an eye at the covered gurney.

Entering the elevator, "Take this blanket off my face. I can't breathe." For the ride down, the blanket was pulled down just enough to clear Jennifer's nose and allow some free-flowing oxygen to enter her lungs.

"Just hang in there; I've got our ride waiting outside. Worry not, your prince has arrived." Derrick cringed after he blurted this out, it was astonishingly nerdy.

The elevator jolted to a stop and the blanket was flipped back over Jennifer's head. It was cold out, but the blanket saved her from that except for her exposed feet. The cold nipped at her, dying to take a bite out of the exposed flesh.

Sirens and lights filled the air, making everythi

ng that was happening more confusing and worrisome. Another heavy jolt to the gurney and some elevation changes meant she was being loaded inside. They were almost home free.

As soon as the doors closed, Jennifer pulled the blanket off and sat straight up. Derrick hopped into the driver seat and casually rolled out, no lights, no sirens, just a steady ride to the city morgue or so it appeared to John Q public.

Derrick talked over his shoulder, "Christmas Darling, we are home free. Here's to hoping I never make it on your list."

Jennifer fixed her hair the best she could, "Well, do not do fucked up shit and you will never have to worry about me hiding in the darkness waiting to open your throat with a single swipe of my blade."

With an anxious chuckle, "Define fucked up shit please. I kid, I kid."

Jennifer lifted herself right behind Derrick and got to his ear, "Why are you helping me? You don't disapprove of my...hobby?"

Startled by the proximity of the Christmas Darling, "Holy! I mean, I am a fan. I get it. I understand why you do what you do. I have been following the murders since they started linking them about five years ago. It is impressive. What can I say?"

A tender hand patted his shoulder, "I appreciate that Derrick. Where are we going to go now?"

Stopping on the side of the road with an accidental curb smack, "I figured we would go to your place, get your things, and you'd come stay with me. What do you think?"

Jennifer took a long breath in, filling her lungs with recycled air and the smell of peppermint hard candy. She did not reply as Derrick started to drive again, only providing her address so they could complete the escape and hide her in plain sight.

She now had an ally in her battle against the injustices of the world. The game had officially changed for the better. Now, she still had some serious thinking to do when it came to her father and his declining health. Abort the mission for this Christmas which would make her look even guiltier in the eyes of the San Diego Police or stay put, kill Dobbins, and continue the tradition of all traditions?