Outpatient - A Story of Horror and Madness by Clifford Beck - HTML preview

Chapter 11

Still facing the side of the road where only moments ago, Catherine was confronted with what seemed like an overwhelming evil, she slowly backed away toward her car. She moved with knees bent and in a slightly crouched position, as though prepared to fight should the men suddenly return. But, paying little attention to where her steps were taking her, she strayed near the white line that lay along the side of the highway. Catherine, still remaining with her mind frozen in terror, became startled into a scream as a passing car blared its horn. It passed close enough to her that its speeding steel bulk calls her hair to fly in its windy wake. She covered her eyes and quickly turned her back to the road as if preparing for the impact that would surely end her life. The faceless driver continued blaring their horn, even after passing her in all though still caught in a frenzy of fear, Catherine's sudden hyper-alertness detected every blast diminish in tone as the car increased its distance from her.

When all seemed quiet again, she uncovered her eyes and glanced around, as though trying to confirm any absence of the maliciousness that had previously crept into her thoughts. Catherine suddenly bolted to her car, started the engine, and quickly continued her panicked return home. She became lost in her frenzied obsession to be home, to be safe with Ivan curled up at her side. This obsession was so consuming that Catherine had become completely unaware that her speed was rapidly approaching 80 miles an hour. Easing up on the gas, she spent the next 15 minutes in absolute focus on the road ahead of her, while quietly whispering to herself about the men she saw on the road.

“They're not getting near me. I know what they want… I know what they all want. They just want to fuck me, don't you?!” Catherine muttered to herself. “God dammit, if you fucking touch me, I'm going to kill all of you! You got that?! So stay the fuck away from me, you assholes!”

Her fear easily transformed itself into rage, and Catherine became easily consumed by it. She continued her flight of fury down the hot summer pavement, toward the security of home when, perhaps by force of habit, she glanced up into the rearview mirror. But, instead of seeing the road behind her receding into the distance, she was horrified to see a face glaring back at her from the back seat. She didn't recognize the face at a glance, but it spoke to her.

“Cat, don't you want to come back and play with us?” the voice said. Its tone was both teasing as well as menacing, and Catherine heard it coming from directly behind her head. She stomped her foot on the brake and fishtailed the car to a stop, leaving an eighty-foot stretch of rubber down the asphalt. Catherine leaped out of her car and stared into the backseat as she slowly backed away. The car was empty, but this was not enough to convince her that what she saw was the product of her rapidly crumbling mental state. She suddenly feared, not for her sanity, but for her very life, and became completely immersed in things that her psychosis now forced upon her.

Leaving her car still running, Catherine quickly turned and ran, fearing that whoever had been in her car would be close by, watching her – waiting for the chance to do what her mind could not even invent. She continued running and, wanting to stop for a much-needed rest, retreated into the tree line to hide from her unseen tormentor. At the sound of an approaching vehicle, Catherine would dart into the woods like a nervous deer. Not knowing who was coming terrified her just as much as the voice that came from the backseat of her car. Catherine traveled the highway on foot for roughly 30 minutes when she noticed that the sky was quickly darkening. A roll of thunder wandered its way through the valley, and a narrow curtain of rain materialized in the distant southern sky. It wasn't long before she began to notice an occasional raindrop striking her head, as well as the sharp smell of the oncoming storm. Catherine quickly retreated to the tree line at the first loud crack of thunder that brought with it a brilliant bolt of lightning that seemed to split the darkened sky. She tried to remember the skills she learned from Nancy during their frequent hikes into the Bigelow Range, but the impact of her sudden relapse left her unable to organize her thoughts.

Catherine continued to walk the highway, glancing back every few minutes, looking for the shadowy figure that spoke to her from the backseat of her car. She tried to move quietly, believing that any noise might draw its attention. Within a few minutes, the storm arrived with the ferocity of an angry God, sending rain down in sheets and cutting visibility to know more than arm's length. And as steam rose from the sun-baked pavement, the wind whipped it into eddies and whirls that gave the landscape a somewhat otherworldly appearance. The cold rain soaked Catherine to the bone as she walked with her arms tightly folded against her chest, trying to fend off the chill that by this time started her teeth chattering and her body stiff.