Final Destination 3, page 18
part #1 of Final Destination Series
The paramedic touched Wendy's wrist with her gloved hand.
"Here," she said. "Just let me…"
The paramedic put a bandage on Wendy's arm and smoothed it gently down.
"Okay," she said. "You're all ready to go."
"Thanks," said Wendy. "I'll be okay."
Kevin helped her to her feet and they started across the parking lot toward the street.
"Will we be okay?" Wendy asked, looking suddenly into Kevin's eyes.
He hesitated, then nodded assertively. "Yeah," he said. "Yeah, we're gonna be alright. We just gotta figure this thing out, is all."
Wendy pushed her bangs back off her forehead. "I really hope you're right," she said.
"Could you believe that sleazy cop coming on to you like that?" Kevin said. "'This is my private number.' What a scumbag."
"Whatever." Wendy shrugged. "It doesn't matter."
"Sure it matters," Kevin said. "If he wasn't a cop I would have…"
"Hey, come on," Wendy said, heading him off before he got all pissed off and worked up into some sort of boy fit. "We have more important things to think about right now."
"Yeah," he said as they continued on, starting up the hill toward her subdivision. "Still…"
"What's really been bothering me about all this," she said, "is how… how vicious it all seems. How Frank…" She shuddered and wrapped her arms around herself. "How he died. How Ashley and Ashlyn died –so brutal. It's not just like what we were talking about before, like death is some kind of accountant, just trying to balance the books. It's like Death is pissed off at us for escaping it the first time, and is punishing us for it now. Why couldn't Frank have died in his sleep? Why couldn't those girls have… have… I don't know, overdosed on Xanax or something?"
"Easy," Kevin said. "Easy. Let's back up. Let's try to get scientific about this. Besides being, well, vicious, what does Frank's death tell us?"
Wendy glanced up at him through her bangs. "You are so doing Mr. Parkington from freshman social studies right now," she said.
Kevin chuckled. "Am I?" He looked away. "I guess maybe I am. Well, whatever. What was I saying?" He looked down at the sidewalk beneath their feet. "All right. Frank's death tells us two things, I think. One, the theory about the survivors of the crash dying in order seems to be correct. Frank was behind Ashley and Ashlyn on the coaster, and he died after them. Two, the theory about the photos predicting the way the deaths are going to happen isn't really paying off."
"Maybe," Wendy said. "I'm still not so sure about that…"
Kevin continued, cutting her off. "Come on," he said. "We were looking at Frank's picture right before he died. Him on the Whacky ladder, right? Well, there was no rope involved in his death. No ladder. No plush toys. No SpongeBob Squarepants."
They turned the corner onto Wendy's quiet, well-groomed street.
"But I had such a strong feeling about the picture of Ashley and Ashlyn," she said. "I…"
She suddenly stopped, closed her eyes, head down, and turned away.
Kevin put a tentative hand on her arm. She could feel that he wanted to put his arms around her, but didn't. Wendy looked back up at him. They both stood stiffly apart and awkward.
"What?" Kevin asked. "What's wrong? Did you just think of something?"
Wendy shook her head. "No, no," she said. "Nothing. It just kinda hit me all of a sudden. Just… all of it, you know?" She sighed and continued walking, pulling away from Kevin's touch. "Sorry. I should have just left town right after the crash like I wanted to. It would have been better not to know all this."
"No," Kevin said with abrupt vehemence. "Never. That's a total cop out. It's never better staying ignorant. Wilful ignorance is just a deliberate surrender of control."
Wendy looked up at him. "Wilful ignorance is just a deliberate surrender of control, eh?" she smirked and looked away. "You hear that on one of those self-empowering video infomercials or something?"
Kevin frowned, looking genuinely stung. "Quit patronizing me, Wendy," he said. "You think I'm stupid just because I'm athletic, but you don't know anything about me. You have no idea what it's like to live with a father who calls you a fag if you use a word with more than two syllables, or a bunch of so-called friends who would put Cryogel in your jock if they ever found out that you actually like to read. You learn to keep your head down, to keep shit to yourself and only open up to people you trust. It's the only way to survive."
"I didn't know you like to read," Wendy said softly.
"You never asked, did you?" Kevin said. "You always just wrote me off as Jay's dumb jock friend. I'm not the total meathead that you think I am, Wendy."
"I don't think you're a meathead," Wendy said.
Before she realized what she was doing, she reached out and touched the prickly angle of his jaw, just beneath that three-inch gash held closed by a neat little row of transparent tape segments. He looked down at her with those hurt blue eyes and she knew that he was right. She had been treating him like a dumb jock. She had never really given him a chance. Jason had tried to tell her that there was more to Kevin than she imagined, that there was intelligence and depth beneath the dirty jokes and goofy slapstick routines, but she didn't believe him.
But thinking about Jason while stroking his best friend's warm, unshaven cheek, looking into those blue eyes and fighting to suppress the undeniable attraction she felt twisting and growing out of control inside her belly, filled her with hot, anxious conflict.
"Um…" he said, eyes cutting down and away. "We better…"
She pulled her hand away and clenched her fingers into a fist. "Okay," she replied.
Then suddenly they were in front of her house. She stood, half turned away from him.
"Can you just humor me and come in and look at the photos one more time?" she asked. "We can look at that one I didn't print out. It'll help us remember where everybody was sitting."
"Sure," Kevin replied, shrugging. "It couldn't hurt. Let's have a look."
-----
A few minutes later Wendy and Kevin sat in front of her computer in her room, clicking through the photos Wendy had taken on Red River grad night. It was kind of strange having Kevin there in her room, her inner sanctum, her own private little world. She had been dating Jason for three months before she had felt comfortable enough to invite him into her room. She had pulled up the padded white bench from her vanity to stand beside her sleek modern desk chair. Kevin sat awkwardly on the too-short bench, long legs bent and knees up near his armpits as he watched the screen of Wendy's computer.
Wendy dragged the picture she had shot from the last car on the ride to the front of the open files. It wasn't very good. The attendant who had scolded her about her camera had put his arm up right as she took the photo. The wide plaid blur of his sleeve blocked the middle of the shot.
"Okay," she said. "Here's the other one that shows the whole car. It sucks, but it's all we have to go on right now." She studied it carefully with Kevin frowning over her shoulder. "I'm pretty sure we got the seating order right before." She pointed to the screen. "There's Ashley and Ashlyn's little empty blonde heads with Frank behind them, holding up his camera."
She pointed to the compact video camera held high above the row of heads. That bossy jerk attendant didn't say anything to Frank about his camera. She moved her finger to a single dark head in the next car back.
"Behind him is Lewis," Wendy continued, "and behind him are the gothsy twins Ian and Erin. See Erin's hair here." She pointed to a tangle of blue and black dreadlocks sticking up behind the attendant's hairy wrist. "And then us, right?"
Kevin leaned in closer, squinting at the screen. "Wait a minute. I think there's a couple of kids there in front of us, but the guy's arm is blocking them. I can't make out who they are. All I can see is a little slice of sweatshirt and an arm."
Wendy looked closer, squinting. "Weren't they thrown off?" Wendy asked. "Remember, they were just kids. They were too short and the attendant made them get off."
"I'm not so sure about that," said Kevin, leaning back and shifting his weight on the girly little bench. "I'm pretty sure those kids got tossed off before… Well… you know… Before your vision. Two more kids got on at the last minute."
"So maybe they stayed on and died in the crash," Wendy suggested, shrugging.
Kevin shook his head.
"No," he said. "Maybe you don't remember, but when me and Lewis started going at it, the guy who was running the ride opened cars seven through twelve. The train had two sections, one through six, and seven through twelve. All the seats in the back section were full and he made everyone get off."
Wendy frowned, concentrating hard. "Oookay," she said.
"Okay," Kevin continued, holding up six fingers. "So one more time. Ashley and Ashlyn were in seat seven." He put down one finger. "Frank was in seat eight, 'cause he took our original seat in order to try and film the girls."
"Right," said Wendy.
Kevin put down another finger.
"Lewis was in seat nine," he said, closing another finger. "Ian and Erin were in ten." Another finger down. "And we were in the last seat. That's seat twelve, right?"
He closed his right hand into a fist, leaving only the single finger on his left hand remaining.
"So those two kids, whoever they are, were in seat eleven," he said, "which means they were kicked off the train with the rest of us. The second section went our empty." (note - my spell checker flagged that sentence and I don’t know what it means or how to fix it, maybe you can figure it out)
"So who are they?" asked Wendy.
Kevin shrugged. "That's what I'm asking," he said. "Maybe we could ask Lewis if he remembers."
Wendy snorted derisively. "Yeah right," she said. "I don't think Lewis could remember what side of his body his ass was on."
"What is it with your prejudice against us jocks?" Kevin asked, suppressing a laugh.
"Kevin, please," Wendy said. "Lewis Romero is so dumb he thought 'Destiny' was Jason's new girlfriend."
Kevin smirked and shrugged. "Yeah, you're right," he said. "Lewis may be a hell of a fullback, but he won't be inventing a cure for cancer any time soon. But, hey, what about Ian and Erin? They may be weirdos but they aren't stupid. They might remember something."
"Well, whoever those kids were," Wendy said, "why haven't they come forward to talk to us? All the survivors seemed to gravitate together out of some strange, post-traumatic physics, but only the ones we already know. Why not those two?"
"Hmmm," said Kevin, thinking. "I don't know. Maybe they weren't McKinley students at all. Maybe they were visiting from out of town or something and then went back after the accident." He gestured to the screen. "Whoever they are, I think it's more important to try to figure out who's going to be next. How it's going to happen and how we can stop it."
"Right," Wendy said, frowning at the arm blocking the two mystery passengers. She had no idea why that was bugging her so intensely. It was like she couldn't let it go. "But I don't remember anyone else dying in my vision." She closed her eyes, fighting to remember. "I remember Erin and Ian falling, being crushed against the ground." She squeezed her eyes closed even more tightly, nauseous. "Then…"
She opened her eyes and looked at Kevin. "Then you," she said softly.
Kevin put his hand on her shoulder. "Okay," he said. "It's okay."
"No it's not fucking okay," Wendy spat, hitting herself in the temple with a balled up fist. "Why can't I remember? Did I block it out somehow? Everything else is so clear." She paused and looked down. "Too clear."
"Don't beat yourself up about this, Wendy," Kevin said gently. "Right now we need to stay focused on figuring out who is next."
Wendy nodded. "You're right, I know," she said, fighting to calm herself, to focus on the task at hand "Okay, Lewis was behind Frank, so it follows that he would be the next in line."
"Do you have any pictures of him?" Kevin asked.
"Yeah, I think so." Wendy leaned forward and pushed the mouse around. "One of these…"
She clicked off the picture of the whole train and froze. She felt Kevin go stiff and tense beside her. The photo that had been revealed behind the one of the whole train was a picture of Carrie, smiling and looking saucy and happy, waving at the camera.
"Oh man," said Kevin quietly.
Wendy quickly clicked the picture closed and looked at him apologetically.
"Sorry," she said. "I should have taken that one out."
"No," Kevin replied with a terse shake of his head. "That's okay. Just… just kind of a shock for a second. Wasn't expecting it."
He was trying to be casual about it, but Wendy could see how hard it was for him, just like it was for her every time she saw a photo or even just something that reminded her of Jason.
"I know how you feel," Wendy said. "All these little reminders are like traps everywhere. Just when I think I've got it all under control I see some goofy commercial on TV that me and Jay used to make fun of together and I want to throw up. I guess that kind of thing is going to happen to us for the rest of our lives, huh?"
"Yeah," said Kevin, bitterly. "However long that is."
Wendy grimaced, a skittery chill running over the surface of her skin.
"Don't say that," she said. "I thought you said we were going to get through this."
"Yeah, we will," Kevin replied, distracted. "We will."
He looked off through Wendy's window, a million miles away. Wendy turned back to the screen when he spoke suddenly, words rushing out like a long held breath.
"I was going to ask Carrie to marry me," he said. "Just after graduation. Bought a ring and everything. I still have it. That ring. It was white gold, you know, because she hated the yellow kind. I keep it in the drawer next to my bed. I…" He choked up a little, then swallowed and continued. "I hate looking at it, but I can't just… get rid of it."
Wendy looked up at him, remembering that Carrie had told Wendy she was going to break up with Kevin after graduation, and feeling the guilty weight of that knowledge like a stone in her belly. Should she tell him? No. Kevin didn't need to know the truth, she decided. At least not right now.
"I…" she began, wanting to return the confidence, to share something painful of her own with him, but it was difficult to force the words. "I was going to… you know… have sex with Jason that night. We were going to spend the night at his place." She looked away, face pulsing with liquid heat like lava beneath her skin. "It would have been my first time."
"Really?" Kevin said looking up at her. "Wow, he never mentioned it to me. I can't believe it. He had been dying to for so long, you know, I can't believe he didn't tell me." He laughed, a kind of defensive, uncomfortable little sound. "It's funny but the last week before, well, what happened, I was really starting to feel kind of jealous of you."
"Jealous?" Wendy smiled. "Of me? Kevin, no offense but that sounds a little gay."
"No, I'm serious," said Kevin, his face so earnest that she couldn't bring herself to joke about it again. "I mean, Jay and I have been best friends since the first grade. He was like a brother. Closer even. The summer before we started at McKinley, we cut our palms and made a blood brother pact that we would always stay together. No girls, no jobs, nothing would ever separate us."
He held up his meaty, calloused hand. There was the faint white line of a scar running across the thick place just below the thumb.
"Well, we were all set to go off to UNLV and everything, but in the last few days, Jay started acting all cagey about it. I could tell it was really about you, about being separated from you, but he wouldn't talk about it and I didn't want to push him. I was afraid that I was losing him. I saw what he had with you and, well, I guess that's part of what made me decide to ask Carrie to marry me. I felt like I needed to hold on to something. Saying it out loud now, it sounds so dumb."
He blushed, shoulders hunched down with awkward, self-conscious discomfort. Wendy felt suddenly terrible. She felt bad for Kevin, who had been about to lose his best friend and his girlfriend even before death took them away. And she felt bad for shortchanging her relationship with Jay, making light of it and acting like it was no big deal, when it had clearly been a very big deal to Jason. What was that old saying about 20/20 hindsight? Boy she was seeing way too clearly now.
"Kevin," Wendy said, but then trailed off. What could she possibly say in light of Kevin's revelations? "It's okay."
As soon as it was out of her mouth she cringed. What is it about seeing someone hurting that makes humans utter that meaningless and stupid phrase, like it was some primitive mojo to drive out pain and anguish. It's okay. He had said the same dumb thing to her and they both knew that things were about as far from okay as they could be.
"I wish it were okay," Kevin said, voice melancholy and defeated. "I really do. Sometimes I feel like nothing will ever be okay again."
"All we can do is try to figure this shit out," Wendy said, trying to sound stronger than she felt. "Find some way to stop it."
"You're right, I know," Kevin said. "Let's see the next picture."
She moved the mouse again and closed the picture of her sister giving her the finger with Perry in the background. Behind that was the photo Kevin had taken of Stacey Kobayashi's panties.
Kevin blushed and gave her a sheepish smile. "You can skip that one," he said.
Wendy moved to close it then stopped, a shiver running up her spine.
"Wait," she said. "Look."
She leaned forward, pointing behind the ruffled curve of Stacey's dress.
Kevin looked. There was someone walking by Stacey in the background, but the shot was taken from so low to the ground it was hard to make out people's faces. "Who's that?"
"Frank," she said. "It's Frank Cheek. And look…" Wendy pointed to the screen with a shaking finger.
Kevin looked where she was pointing. Frank was walking below the ceiling fans of the covered seating area, but in the picture, it looked like the fan was chopping through Frank's head. Kevin's eyes went wide.
