Hanson Fanatic

He guessed that it wouldn’t get completely dark here tonight, what with the carnival lights and all. That’s ok. He didn’t like the dark all that much. That, he supposed, was why he liked the train so well. They could turn off the lights on the train but light still came through the windows as they traveled from town to town.

He strolled through he carnival, careful not to touch anyone he passed. He also didn’t like to touch people and he really didn’t like to be touched. The sun was starting to go down, and the sky had it’s hazy, snow-threatening look. Soon it would be dark enough. Even though he didn’t like the dark much sometimes, despite himself, he yearned for it.

He moved between some of the carnival booths. A handful of children were trying to knock over a stack of milk bottles with a softball before their parents called them back to go home. Some teenagers passed laughing. A couple walked by, hand in hand. Soon, they would respect him, love him, maybe even fear him - just like Taylor Hanson would. After all, he was so talented that he had raised his avocation to the level of an art.

He pulled the piece of paper from his pocket. It was worn from the near constant folding and re-folding. His lips moved as he read the now-familiar words again. I know what you did. Meet me at the carnival tonight - Taylor.

He swelled with pride. Taylor Hanson knew! Somehow Taylor Hanson knew! He wanted to rush right into the middle of the crowd, screaming and waving his arms. He’d tell all of them about his art. He wanted to see the look on their faces, the fear and respect in their eyes. He wanted to tell them all, but he didn’t. He fought down that urge to gloat. Being in control is part of the art, you see. There was more important work to be done - a higher purpose. A true artist wouldn’t let anything get in the way of his purpose. A true artist is never appreciated in his lifetime.

Zac surveyed the small-town, winter carnival. The rides were old fashioned ones with loud motors, flashing light bulbs, and tinny background music. Most of them were enclosed, taking into account the snowfall. There was a smallish rollercoaster that wound into a tunnel and back, a merry-go round, a closed down tunnel of love, and the obligatory ferris wheel, among other rides. Zac hoped someone had tightened the screws on everything recently.

“Someone could get killed on one of those rickety things,” he thought.

Toby’s voice broke him from his reverie.

“I can’t believe you would leave a note like that. It’s almost inviting trouble!” Toby said.

“Aww come on, Tobe. Give me a little credit,” Zac said. “It’s a pretty public place. No one’s going to try anything here.”

“Yes, by why use Taylor’s name on the note?” Toby asked.

“That’s easy. While the bad guy’s watching Tay, we’ll be watching him. When he least expects it....WHAM! We’ll nab him. That’s why I told Tay to meet us here in a half hour. It’ll give you and me time to pick a good hiding place to watch from.”

Zac looked at the dwindling crowd. It had stopped snowing the night before, but it was growing colder. Most of the people seemed to be leaving.

“Tay better get here soon,” Zac said, “You know how he is! Probably running late, smooching with Jax no doubt. He’s going to ruin all my plans. Let’s start looking for our stalker now, Tobe. Maybe we can have this wrapped up by the time he gets here.”

Toby looked around and said, “Where do you suppose we look first?”

“I vote unanimously that we start at the funnelcake place,” Zac answered rubbing his stomach.

Zac took a huge bite of funnel cake, sending a shower of powdered sugar down in front of his shirt.

“Yum,” he said, between bites. “Here, Tobe, take a bite.”

Toby leaned over and did just that. He chewed happily while making plans for tonight and the future.

Zac strolled around the fairgrounds, looking at everyone. He asked Toby to pass him the soda they both shared. He took a drink of his drink then screamed as loudly as he could.

“What?” Toby asked with a start. His eyes grew large.

“Nothing,” Zac said, his voice muffled again by a mouthful of funnelcake. “Just practicing. I’m going on every ride and I’m going to scream and scream and scream.”

Toby relaxed again and looked at the ramshackled rides of the carnival, including the rickety rollercoaster racing around it’s tracks on its way into a tiny, metal tunnel.

“Come on, Zac,” Toby said, “Let’s go on the carousel.”

Zac rolled his eyes at Toby. “What is this? You don’t want to go on any fast, scary rides, only the baby ones?”

“Oh, be quiet,” Toby said, “You know you want to go on it too. Besides, the line isn’t that long.”

“Ok, but we better be careful,” Zac shouted as we got into line. “I think some of the horses look rabid! And...and I think I saw a scary clown get on!”

Zac climbed onto a green horse, and Toby a white one. Zac made a point of looking over at Toby just before the ride began and rolled his eyes, but when it started up, Toby could tell from the smile on Zac’s face that he really enjoyed it.

Zac had an incredible smile on his face, so sweet and gentle looking that he looked for an instant to be even younger than he was. A real little-boy. Toby couldn’t take his eyes off of him.

As he rode the stupid merry-go-round horses with Toby beside him, Zac couldn’t help from smiling. It was the same, dumb smile that Taylor gets on his face every time Jaxsper’s name comes up.

“If this is the way Taylor feels all the time, I really was dumb it for so long,” Zac thought.

Zac looked over at Toby, then over his friend’s shoulder to the crowd as they circled around. Still no Taylor. Still no suspicious characters.

As the ride came to an end, Zac resumed his less introspective self.

“Well, the thrill of that is over. Are you ok after all that excitement, Tobe, or do you want to sit down for awhile and recover?”

“Oh, be quiet,” Toby shouted, socking Zac in the shoulder.

As he rubbed the sore spot on his shoulder, Zac’s eyes lingered on Toby’s for a second longer than he anticipated. He was reminded of his own rule for this relationship, “No Mushy Love Stuff.”

“Hey,” Zac said, breaking the stare, “Let’s go on the roller coaster!”

“Oh no, not me. You go ahead,” Toby said, sitting on the bench and waving his hands in protest.

Toby glanced at the constricting cars of the rollercoaster that locked the people inside and then dragged the screaming people into the even smaller tunnel. He wrinkled his forehead and bit his lower lip.

“Aww, you’re no fun,” Zac whined. “Come on. This is suppose to be our date. I rode the merry-go-round with you. Now you gotta go on this one. Will you do it? Will you come with me? Please?”

“Well...” he said, looking at Zac almost helplessly. “Alright...”

They climbed the rickety stairs to the ride, the whole time they waited for their turn, Toby wrung his hand nervously, wincing as he listened to the other passenger’s screams.

Finally, it was their turn. Zac chose a car near the front so ‘they could keep an eye out for you-know-who’. Toby leaned back against the seat and closed his eyes. His knuckles were white where he gripped the safety bar, and his face was slowly losing color.

Zac took notice of this. He thought back to Toby’s fear of being in an airplane and the panic Toby showed when he was shoved into the tiny closet earlier. He started to realize Toby’s unspoken fear of being confined in tight places.

“Are you gonna be ok?” Zac asked softly.

“Sure,” Toby said, slowly lifting his head and smiling bravely. “I’ll be fine.”

Remembering the calming words he said to Toby earlier in the closet, Zac said, “Close your eyes. Don’t think about where you are, think about who you’re with. I’m right

here.”

Just then the cars lurched and shot out up the steep hill. At the top, Toby took a deep breath and flashed Zac a frightened glance. A heartbeat later, they were hurtling down the hill at breakneck speed. Instead of yelling, Toby grabbed hold of Zac’s arm with both his hands and buried his face in his shoulder. He stayed like that for the rest of the ride. Not that Zac minded one bit. Eventually the train slowed, and chugged it’s way into the entry point.

“It’s over now.” Zac murmured into Toby’s ear. “Are you alright?”

Keeping ahold of Zac’s arm, Toby raised his head and looked around. His hair was blown back and his cheeks were flushed pink.

“Hey. That wasn’t half bad.” he said

His pulse was racing, Zac’s was as well.

“Thanks,” Toby said softly

“No problem. I would never let anything happen to you.”

He had yet to see Taylor Hanson. Maybe Taylor Hanson was waiting to see some of his work first. That’s it. He would impress Taylor Hanson with some more of his artwork.

Choosing the right victim is part of the art, you see. Art is perfection. Art is being able to make all the pieces come together. Art is the window to the soul of the creator. He wanted to show them, especially Taylor Hanson, his soul. How his soul, like the body-canvases he used, is beautiful beneath the slick and seemingly disjointed mess. Art is capable of transfiguring you - and he was capable of transfiguring others.

He remembered a quote Hanson once made when asked how they created their art “One of the coolest things is to see an idea that's in your head materialize.” He planned on making one of his ideas materialize again tonight. He wanted to be the ray of light among a bland, boring world.

“There is one,” he mumbled to himself. “A fine canvas upon which to create art. A blank canvas waiting for the touch of a master artist.”

The ferris wheel stopped with Toby and Zac in the top bucket.

“We’re so lucky to be together like this,” Toby said, still savoring the kiss Zac gave him.

“Yeah, I’m happy being both of us,” Zac replied before resuming his ‘king of the world’ chant.

“Hold still,” said Toby.

“Maybe we’ll even see Tay from up here,” Zac said.

Below the ferris wheel, the few people remaining at the fair moved in all directions, eating, talking or generally packing up. Many of the people headed towards the parking lot, and drove off in their cars.

“Tobe! Look!” Zac said as he started to stand up and pointed over the edge of the bucket.

Toby grabbed Zac’s shirt and yanked him back down. He wasn’t as bothered by the slow-moving, open-air ride of the ferris wheel but Zac’s hyperactive jumping did give him a start.

“I saw a guy grab some other guy and pull him behind the booths. Oh my God! I saw him. Look! There he goes!,” Zac shouted as he tried to stand again.

Details, Zac reminded himself. Good detectives notice specific details. He tried to make out the guy, but was too far away.

Toby was used to Zac telling wild stories - and behaving even more wild - but something in Zac’s voice told him that this was the real thing.

The ferris wheel began to turn but it stopped again with Zac and Toby still in the 3 o’clock position. Zac still hung over the basket.

“He’s getting away! He’s way over there now,” he said pointing to behind the candy apple stand. He shouted to no one in particular, “Hurry up! We have to get off!”

Zac waved both of his hands over his head and tried to get the man running the wheel to bring them down.

The wheel finally swung around again and Zac yelled at the operator, “Hurry! We have to catch a murderer!”

The basket finally stopped at the bottom and the attendant pulled back the bar so that Zac and Toby could get out.

“Why didn’t you bring us down sooner?” Zac demanded as he shot out of the bucket,

“Couldn’t you hear me yelling?”

“Yeah you and thirty others,” the ride operator said.

“Kids!” he mumbled as they ran off. “They can’t wait to get on the ride then can’t wait to get off.”

___________________________

Tay and I walked along the road, on our way to whatever destination Zac had picked for tonight. He was pretty vague with the details. He simply gave us the direction to head in, the address, and told us to give him a half hour’s head start so he could ‘get everything ready.’

The snow was still present in some patches, and from the looks of things it more was going to be coming down tonight. I was glad that I brought my gloves along when I left home to find Taylor. They sure came in handy now. I put one of the gloves on, Tay had the other. We held our bare hands to keep them warm as we walked. I was careful to look for passing cars, and was ready to let go in case I saw one.

We walked by a pretty thick patch of snow. Taylor pushed me into it, and then joined me - soaking both of us. We laid on our backs, making snow angels together. Then we sat down together on a rock, catching our breath and admiring the snow angels we made.

“You know, you’ve got a pretty nice ass.... for an angel,” Tay said, pointing down to the figure I made in the snow.

As we sat there, close together, sharing our warmth. Even so, I couldn’t help but shiver.

“What’s wrong?” Taylor asked, “Are you cold?”

“No, not really.”

“You’re not? You’re shaking a bit.” Tay said, as he hugged me close. “Hey! you’re right. You’re all toasty.”

Taylor grabbed me close absorbing my body heat.

We looked up at the stars together as we sat there.

“You know,” Tay said, “When we were on that Indian reservation, I heard them say that their ancestors believed that stars were just holes, poked in the blanked circling the earth by humming birds.”

We sat there for a moment, and even though Tay was so close I couldn’t help but shiver again.

“Maybe it was just someone walking over your grave,” he said, jokingly.

A car drove by and I instinctively pushed Taylor away. The headlights of the car illuminated a patch of red in the snow.

Blood.

I shrieked.

When I yelled, Taylor jumped and grabbed me.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, very concerned.

The car hadn’t fully passed, so I backed away again from Taylor. I pointed down. “Blood.” I managed to say.

Taylor bent down and looked at the gruesome spot in the snow.

“Looks like some poor bird bought it. A fox probably got it.”

“A-a-a fox?” I asked.

“Yep, you can see a couple of footprints here, and some feathers. Look.” he said, pointing.

“Thanks,” I replied, “but I’ll take your word for it.”

As we walked further, I couldn’t help but look back and see the wind blowing away our footprints. And the blood in the snow.

Taylor reached for my hand again, but another car came by and I stopped myself before grabbing it.

“What are you so afraid of?” he asked, with a hint of anger in his voice.

I was sure he meant why was I so freaked out by that blood in the snow. I told him that I was still having that dumb dream. That dream that something horrible was going to happen.

“I know it’s dumb, but I’m scared. I’m scared that I’m going to die, and that’s not even the scariest part. I’m scared too that it would be too late, and there’s so much more in my life that I need to get straight. I’m sorry. I’m not doing this out of selfishness or some weird need to always protect you.”

“Yes you are. You’ve always done that,” he answered. Again I was amazed at how he could read my mind, even when I didn’t want him to.

We walked in silence for a brief moment.

“Look, if you don’t want to talk about it, I will," Taylor said, growing angrier. "You always do this. You always go out of your way to protect me from some unseen danger, Jax. You did this to me when we were filming The Real World. You were going to leave me, just to save me from being sued. When that was over, you didn’t contact me for months, because you thought I wasn’t allowed to talk to you anymore. You think that I’m just this fragile, sheltered person. You think that I’m this china doll and if you don’t protect me, I’m going to shatter into 10,000 pieces. I’m not. I’m strong and I’m not going to break apart.”

“It’s just that...if anything were to happen. If I were to lose you. The world would be a much sadder place,” I said, looking to see if another car was coming, then reaching for his hand.

This time, it was Taylor who pulled away again.

“That’s another thing!” Taylor said, letting out even more anger, “Why do you always look around before you touch me? When you’re in trouble, I reach out to protect you. Your first instinct when you think I’m in trouble is to leave me. Do you have any idea how much it hurt me when you were going to leave me to ‘protect me’? When I first tried to kiss you, you backed away! Even now, with this stupid dream of yours, you continue to try to keep it from me.”

I didn’t know what to say. My first instinct always was to protect Taylor. I thought that’s what I had done. I thought that was what I was still trying to do.

“Maybe you’re not trying to protect me,” Taylor said. “Maybe you’re embarrassed to be with me, and that’s why you’re constantly trying to find a way out.”

“You know that’s not true,” I said.

“You’re not?! I’ve told my parents about us. I told my Dad almost immediately, and even though my Mom isn’t thrilled with it, I told her anyway. Have you told your Mom about us yet? No. I’m supposed to be the most important thing in your life, and you haven’t even told her. What can't you just stop being afraid of everything?”

He was really letting me have it now. The pent up frustration he must have been keeping in each time he asked me if I told my Mom about us. I thought back to all the times I dropped his hand in public, like back at the train station, and how embarrassed I was with our somewhat public marriage ceremony.

“Back when we were filming the Real World, and you tried to leave... Maybe.... Maybe I would have been happier....”

“What?” I asked him, growing more upset.

“Nothing. I take it back.”

“Take what back?” I asked, knowing the answer, “You really mean that?”

“No, I didn’t mean it. If I meant it I wouldn’t have said I take it back.”

“No, if you didn’t mean it you wouldn’t have said it at all,” I answered, quietly.

“Look, Jax. I need to be alone for a little while. Let me go and get Zac. It’s time we went home. All of us.”

Taylor stomped off towards our destination. I stood there dumbfounded, the melted snow dripping from my jacket. I turned and headed back towards our motel.

“Stupid dream,” Tay said, under his breath.

_________________________________

“This can’t be happening!” Toby said, “It’s like a bad dream.”

“Tell you what, Tobe. I’ll pinch you if you think you’re dreaming.... if you promise to return the favor. I think he dragged him over here.”

The boys headed to where Zac thought he saw the man dragging the other smaller man. Toby asked him what he thought the man looked like. Zac tried to remember. We was sure he would recognize the man again if he saw him, but it was hard to describe.

“Kinda average looking,” he said finally. “He was wearing pants. And a shirt. They were both dark colored.”

He knew the description was too vague to tell a security guard, even if they could find one. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t’ recall anything unusual about the man.

“Keep your eye out,” Zac said, “We may see him again.”

“I didn’t see him the first time,” said Toby.

The boys rounded the corner of the candy apple booth and headed toward the parking lot. Then they both saw the body. The boys ran toward it.

“He’s still breathing!” Toby said. “You really saw someone. You did it. We must have interrupted him in the middle of.... Before he could.......”

Toby couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence. The body of the man below them coughed and the man slowly regained consciousness.

Zac reached for the note stuck to the body, the calling card supposedly left behind at the two previous killings as well. He read its words carefully - Won’t you say you love me? I’ll make you so proud of me. We’ll make them turn their heads every place we go.

Zac stood up and said, “This isn’t a game anymore. We’ve gotta get help. Stay here, Toby. I’ll be right back.”

He hadn’t walked more than ten feet before he was caught in the headlights.

The car came out of nowhere.

It was headed towards him, picking up speed as it approached. It was a huge car.

Zac froze. He put his hands out as if it would stop the car from running over him.

“This is it,” he thought. “This is a nightmare. I’m going to die.”

He screamed and closed his eyes, waiting for the car to hit him. He even had time to wonder if it would hurt.

The driver must have breaked at the last minute. Zac heard screeching tires as it swerved. He opened his eyes as it hurtled past, inches away. He felt the wind brush his hands as the car sped by. He turned to watch it go. It careened crazily down the street and around the corner with another screech of tires.

Zac realized that he was standing in the middle of the parking lot with his hands stuck out in front of him. He lowered them as Toby rushed over to join him. Zac’s scream, and the squealing car led the few remaining people at the fair to come as well.

“I’m fine. I’m fine,” Zac said as Toby rushed over.

Then, the thought hit him, worse than the car would have.

He’s headed to Taylor.

______________________

He swerved the car at the last minute. It was ruined. All ruined! Taylor Hanson’s brother interrupted him before he could finish his present. He was so mad, that it was all he could do to not hit him with the car. But, that would have delayed him. That might have let them catch him. And, he couldn’t let anything stand in his way now. Not when he had Taylor Hanson’s attention now. Not when he had Taylor Hanson's respect.

He reached in his pocket to stroke the purple-paper note with Taylor Hanson’s writing on it.

He thought about how things would be the way he wanted soon. The way he always dreamed of, if he let himself dream. He didn’t though. It was part of his art. You know what happens when you prevent yourself from dreaming? Your dreams build up inside of you until they burst out while you’re awake. This let him see things not the way they are, but artistically. The way he wanted them to be.

As his car sped down the street, away from the clatter and lights of the fair, he saw him. TAYLOR HANSON! Alone. Taylor Hanson was headed right for him, probably to meet him just as the note said.

It was a dream come true.

_________________________________

I was almost back to the motel, when I saw that stupid blood in the snow again.

I could feel myself get woozy, like I was losing my balance. I remembered the words the shaman spoke when she married me and Tay, how we were connected by something that reached beyond touch.

I must have lost my balance. I dropped to my knees and, for a moment, my head felt like it was swimming. I saw the dream again, only this time I was awake. There is a twilight area between dreams and conscousness. It’s the point which you begin to drift off, but you’re still here. Your mind starts to gather together the dis-patterned visions of your subconscious and you see the edges of your dreams.

In this dream, I am alone and walking through the colored lights. Then I see them. The shadowy figure who is not my dad. The shadowy figure who is trouble. He has Taylor. I run to him, trying to save Taylor, but the ground isn’t always solid under my feet. When it is solid, I can run quickly, but when it swirls around, it takes me forever.

Then, I hear noises. A loud BANG! and I whisper for him. When I try to scream, it’s a deep, gargling noise. My voice is coming from the floor. I still see the shiny lights, but they are now reflecting off some red, glassy, shiny shards of something. It takes me a moment to realize that they are the pieces of my broken heart.

I snap back to reality and become aware of my real surroundings again.

Taylor’s outside, alone, away from my protection.

How could I be so stupid. How could I let this dream come true?

Taylor slowly opened his eyes. Man, his head hurt.

Wrrrrzzzz, click!

“Where in the world am I?” he asked himself.

Wrrrzzzz, click!

“S-s-s-someone grabbed me. That much I know. But who? Why?”

Wrrrzzz, click!

“If that noise would only stop. That grinding and scraping and humming....”

Wrrrrzzzz, click!

Taylor reached his hand to his head, and was thought that it felt slick. He looked around the room, trying to get his bearings. He wasn’t sure where he was, or how he got here. The last thing he remembered was the car driving by him as he walked to meet Zac. The car radio blasting.

As if on cue, the same music started up again.

Bum-bah-dum-BUM. Bum-bah-dum-BUM. The night we met I knew I needed you so. And if I had the chance, I’d never let you go. So, won’t you say you love me. I’ll make you so proud of me. We’ll make them turn their heads every place we go. So, won’t you please be my little baby. Baby, my darling. Be my baby now. whoa-ho-ho-ho.

“I... I know this song,” Taylor rasped.

“That’s what I like to hear,” he said as he walked into the darkened room.

He laughed. His laughter was an ugly, guttural-rumble in his throat.

He walked toward his hostage, who was trying to pull himself up from the floor to his knees. He studied Taylor Hanson in silence for a long moment.

“Who are you?” Taylor asked, trying to make out his captor in the low light.

He gave his name. Garon Levitt. But, it didn’t matter. To him, all that mattered was Taylor Hanson.

He told Taylor about how he loved him. How he watched his every appearance on TV. How he was sure that when Taylor sang, it was to him. How he had followed Taylor’s exploits during “The Real World” and how he knew, from the way Taylor looked at Jaxsper, exactly what he was thinking.

Taylor, tried to concentrate, but he was having trouble focusing his eyes. His captor apologized. When he pulled up beside Taylor Hanson with his car, he had to hit him over the head and drag him in, unfortunatly.

“Even given your note, I wasn’t sure you’d come with me. And I needed your full attention to brag,” he said.

“Note? What note?” Taylor asked.

“Don’t be embarrassed. I know you’ve noticed my works. Noticed my killings. I did them for you, Taylor. Only for you.”

Taylor wondered if the bump on his head was harder than he thought. Did this guy actually say “killings”?

“I did them all for you.” he continued. “I listened to your music. I saw you on television. When I read about you on the internet, and how you were going to get married, I knew then that it was my last chance to win you over.”

Taylor was having a very difficult time making sense out his reality now. The ground felt like taffy. He could only pull himself up as far as his knees before his eyes crossed. And this guy....what was his name... Garon..... kept talking about things that didn’t make sense. His words mixed with the Ronnie Spector song that continued in the background.

“I see you’ve noticed the song. That’s our song. I made sure to leave pieces of it behind each time I made the art for you. I know you like Motown, and you have a song with that Jaxsper-loser. We needed a song. This one is ours.”

“Jaxsper,” Taylor thought, through his muddled thoughts, “He knew! Jaxsper knew. The visions he had, those dreams. I thought we was nuts, but if he was then now so am I.”

“Please, stop this,” Taylor said, “Before you make things worse.”

“Oh, I’ve been through the worst already. The worst was reading about how you loved someone not worthy of you. How you married some idiot like that Jaxsper-loser. I've been reading alot about you. Studying you, if you will. I'm going to re-create all the things that made you think you were in love with that Jaxsper-loser, only this time, you'll make the right choice. The song is one part. Do you know where you are, Taylor Hanson? We're in a carnival. All the things that you love to much, and now I'm here as well. It's all going to work out perfectly.”

“What are you going to do?” Taylor asked.

“For starters, I’m going to kill that Jaxsper-loser when he tries to come and rescue you. That way, you'll make the right choice this time. That way there will be no one to take you away from me.”

Hearing that, Taylor summoned all his strength. He had to get up. He had to get away. He had to warn Jaxsper.

Only, he must have stood up too fast. His world spun around him and he dropped back to the floor, starting to black out again.

Even through the mists he could hear his abductor say, “That’s it you rest. I’ll take care of things while you’re out. Stay here.”

He hovered there for a moment, allowing his icy laughter to rain down on Taylor.

“I don’t know what he sees in that loser. Tell me, please. What is it with him? Is he the boy who makes your dreams come true?”

He turned and walked out of the room, barricading the door behind him.

He didn’t turn around.

He should have.

In a voice so faint, it was just above the slightest whisper, Taylor answered.

“Yes.”

Wrrrrzzzz, click!

________________________________

_________________________________

I knew there was trouble even before I saw Zac running up to me. He was panting, out of breath. With his first gasp, he asked me where Taylor was. With his second, he told me of an attempted murder he saw tonight. With the third, he asked me again where his brother was. And with the fourth, he told me that he thought that whoever was behind this might be staying at our hotel.

I think Zac was too freaked out to wonder why I believed him so readily, and I think I was too sure of the fact that my dreams were right to take the time to explain it to Zac.

We went to the room Zac pointed out as the one rented to the guy behind this. I don’t know how he did it, but Zac produced a pass key and we were inside. There was nothing there. Whoever this room was rented too must have checked out. A dead end.

We returned to my room and went straight to the phone to call Inspector Piper. I still wasn't sure anything was wrong, but I was tired of playing it safe.

The phone rang.

I pulled the phone to my ear, hoping it was Taylor telling me nothing was wrong, and he was looking for Zac.

“Hello?”

At first nothing. Then a voice.

“Jaxsper Finn?”

My eyes narrowed and I pressed the phone so tightly to my ear, I thought it would bleed.

The voice sounded distorted, like something from a horror movie.

“Come and get him, if you want him. Bring the cops and it’s all over.”

“Where?” I begged, needing no explanation of what the caller was talking about.

“You’ll know the place. Where it all began,” the voice said, before it was cut off leaving me with a dial tone.

I desperately turned to Zac, asking him for any answer. I asked him where he was tonight. He told me it was a local carnival.

Carnival. The site of our first date. Carnival. The flashing, colored lights in my dreams. Carnival. The fun house mirror in my dream where I saw.... I can’t bring myself to even think it.

I pulled my jacket on tighter and took off down the road, running so hard I thought my lungs would burst.

_______________________________

There’s one thing I want right now, more than anything I’ve ever wanted. Ok, I want Taylor back...maybe that makes it two things. But right now, what I really want is to be brave.

I’m not brave, I’m just afraid. Maybe that’s a good thing. You can’t have bravery without fear. People with the most to fear have the greatest opportunity to be brave.

I keep thinking about my Dad. He was the bravest man I’ve ever known. He was very claustrophobic. After he died, my mom told me that he would have hated the coffin. Coffins.... the carnival... my dreams.... the gurgling sound..... No. I won’t think about it. I’ve gotta be brave, like my dad.

My dad was claustrophobic, like I said. Most of all, he hated tunnels. I think it was something left over from when he was a kid. When I was seven, and told him I wanted to be an actor. I begged and pleaded with him to take me to acting classes. He said no at first, but I wouldn’t shut up about it. It turned out that to get to the class you had to drive though a pretty long tunnel. His hands were dripping wet on the steering wheel and his skin was whitish gray, the day he finally took me to class. When we got out of the tunnel, he pulled over to the side of the road and rested his head on the steering wheel for a second. Every Saturday, for almost two years, he drove me to acting class.

When I think about it now, I’m filled with a horrible guilt. I wish so much that I hadn’t been so stupid and self-centered when he was alive.

I can’t change the past, but I’m hoping to change the future. I just wish for one single moment, I could be as brave as my dad. He was the bravest man I’ve ever known.

____________________________

“Jax! Jaxsper, wait!” Zac yelled as he ran just behind me.

I slowed for a second, letting him catch up. He had already run this road once, when he came to get me, now he had to travel the same way back again. I needed Zac. I needed him to show me the way.

“What’ll we do?” Toby asked trailing a close third.

“I don’t know. All I know is that I’ve got to get there. Stay together,” I ordered. “If you get separated, yell and yell loudly.

The dried leaves rustled overhead, the picturesque puddles of melted snow reflected the now almost set sunlight back up into the sky. There wasn’t a soul in sight. A storm had just started and snow was falling everywhere. I could feel it seeping in and melting, mixing with my sweat as I ran full force again, making my clothes wet.

We were almost there. I could see the carnival parking lot, just over the hill. It was deserted. Zac had told me that someone was attacked at the carnival tonight. The police must have cleared the place out already. Too bad they cleared out too. Then, I was reminded of what I heard on the phone, “Bring the cops and it’s all over.”

I scanned the area from the top of a hill. Trees were all around us. At the bottom of the hill was a bridge accross a dried out stream bed. It was one of those man made streams, for affect to make the carnival more inviting during the summer months I guess. In the winter all there was was cold, hard ground and a stormdrain below. Over the bridge was the carnival - and Taylor. Other than that, there was nothing but shadows. But, when I looked again, I realized that something was out there. Right at the bottom of a bunch of snow covered birch trees, stuck in a chunk of shadow was...something. Maybe someone.

The all-over sickness I had been feeling started to turn into something more. Zac must have seen the same thing, because he took a small step toward the shape in the shadows.

I squinted my eyes until they watered. Was someone really there? I couldn’t be sure. Zac took another step. It was so hard to see. The shape in the shadows could be a crouching person, or it could be a shrub or a trash can.

Then the shape moved.

The shape was up and running before we had a chance to move ourselves. Out of the swirling whiteness of the snow, a dark form hurtled toward us. It shouted something that I couldn’t make out.

He came closer, raving wildly, stopping about ten feet from us.

Then I saw that he had a gun.

His eyes flickered, seeming to not really focus on any of us.

We stood there frozen, but it seemed as though this man was equally startled by his behavior. For as second all motion hung there, suspended in time. I took it in like a bad play; the maniac facing down the heroes. His lips parted with words he's about to utter. The fairy-tale scene of trees and snow and a carnival behind him.

For only an instant, the action of 'the stage' paused - then the silence was shattered.

“Taylor Hanson’s better half. The love of his life,” he giggled as if it was the punchline to a joke.

The heavy-breathing, perspiring, young man pointing the gun at me. He couldn’t be more than nineteen or twenty. Young looking and thin. Dark hair, dark clothes, glasses. He steadied the gun with both hands breathing in deeply.

I didn't know what to do. I could only come up with two things. Attack him first and get shot or stand still and get shot.

Oh God. This was bad.

I eased my foot along the snowy ground of the walkway.

“Don’t move. Any of you,” he bellowed.

I froze, cringing with fear. A surge of anger ripped through my body, but as badly as I wanted to beat this idiot up, I knew that in this position I was stuck.

“You’re all here, aren’t you. Almost the whole ‘Real World’ gang. Oh you were big heroes weren’t you? You were all on television, you bragged about your wedding on the internet. You thought you had everyone fooled into thinking it was a made up piece of fan fiction but I knew. You were famous. Well now with my artwork, and the what the newspapers will write, so am I.”

“Artwork? You mean the killings!” Zac said, defiantly.

He moved the gun around, pointing it at each one of us,

He replied, “As someone famous said, ‘look upon my works ye mighty and despair.”

“You’re sick!” Zac shouted back.

I wished that Zac would shut up. I didn’t want to antagonize this freak more than he already was.

“What do any of you know of art? Who are you to judge? Don’t you know that an artist, a true artist like me and Taylor Hanson, are above the petty rules of a drudging society? Don’t you realize that a true artist cannot be held responsible for inspiration from a higher plane? If none of you know, at least your brother knows. He wrote and told me so. He’s proud of what I’ve done for him. He’s going to love me and we’ll make them turn their heads, every place we go.”

Zac suddenly looked sick. He didn’t say another word after that.

I decided that maybe Zac had the right idea. I had to keep this nut talking long enough to think of something else to do.

“Did killing those people make you a better person? Will killing us now make you more desirable to Taylor? You don’t want to do this. You have your whole life ahead of you.”

He waved the gun again, and took a step closer. “Everyone has their whole life ahead of them before they die, stupid. It’s not how long you stretch it out, it’s what you do with it. All I ever wanted to do was show people my art. Take them on a trip inside of my head. Hubris will be the downfall of you loser-Jaxsper. True art will win out.”

His hand was poised on the trigger. He was going to do it. He was going to kill me right here, right now. And, if I moved, he would kill me even sooner. It was ineveitable, like the ending of a bad play. It was the thing I knew was coming, the climatic finality of terror which I had known for some time would come. But, this wasn't some clumsy, clownish villian of fiction. This was a crazy man. He couldn't be reasoned with. There was no break for intermission, no carefully contrived happy ending.

Was this truly it? Was what the end felt like?

The wind ceased. It seemed there was no one alive on the planet. The night was so silent, I could hear my teeth grinding...or were they his?

I didn't know it at the time, but Toby dug into his pocket and pulled out a rock. He had gotten into the habit of picking one up at every opportunity, hoping to add them to his memory stones. The nut with the gun was so intent on me, he wasn't paying any attention to Toby. He chucked the rock at the dark figure.

The rock hit him on the side of the head, knocking him backwards. The gun fell from his hand, lost in the snow, going off as it hit the ground. He reeled back and fell, looking truly deranged.

The pistol shot lent power and strength to me.

I looked around desperately.

I yelled, “Run!”

We all scattered in different directions. I dove behind a mound of snowy dirt on the hill. In that moment of confusion I lost track of where everyone was.

The guy must have thought I was talking to him, because he took off in a run, too. He ran straight toward Toby. He knocked Toby back like a football player, and sent him flying down the hill.

I peeked over the hill, to see if everyone was safe, and saw the killer run off away from us.

“Zac?” I called out. “Zac! Are you ok?”

I saw him emerge from behind the tree and finally answered me. His eyes were wide. His teeth were chattering from more than just the cold.

“My fault. All my fault,” Zac repeated over and over.

“Toby?” I asked, trying to snap him out of it. “Zac, where’s Toby?”

"There," he whispered pointing down the hill.

I looked down the hill, but I couldn't see him. Below us was the cold, frozed dirt of the stream bed, and the dark, stormdrain tunnel.

“Toby?” I called out despeartaly.

He must have fallen through the drain. He wasn't answereing, and I didn't know how to get him out. I didn't know if he was alright.

I was at a loss on how to deal with any of this. Taylor was kidnapped, Toby might be hurt or worse, Zac was fighting mild shock, and I stood there wishing more and more that I was brave.

“Toby? Toby?!” I screamed.

The night was cold, but it was a still, windless cold. The moonlight sent down and eeire, silver glow on hte ice-encrusted stream bed. It gave this whole situation a feeling of unreality.

I slowly picked my way down the the hill making my way toward the storm drain, fearing what I’d find.

“Toby!” I yelled again, my voice echoing on the metal sides of the drain.

“J-j-jax?” Toby’s small voice croaked.

“Toby! Thank God you’re ok. Are you hurt, Toby?” I yelled back.

I could hear rustling below, and the sounds of gravel and water. Toby’s voice spoke again, “N-n-no. I don’t think so,” he said quietly. That was followed by a sharp gasp then a slightly louder “Ouch!”

Toby croaked back, “My leg. I think I hurt my leg, or my ankle or something. It’s so dark. Zac? Jaxsper, is Zac there with you? Is he ok?”

Zac had joined me during this. I almost didn’t hear him, and I almost couldn’t recognize him. The exuberant, playful, loud boy was replaced by this child who rocked back and forth, unsteady. His face was as white as a ghost.

I told Toby that Zac was with me. When Toby called out to him, Zac moved toward the drain. It looked as if he was going to jump down after Toby. It was a bad idea. We didn’t know how far down the drain went, or how rough the bottom was. Toby’s voice seemed to be coming from very far away.

I noticed another storm drain grating. This one across the dried bed, but on the side of the bed rather than at the bottom like this one.

“Toby,” I yelled down, “is there a tunnel there? If there is, I think it leads back up. Can you see one?”

Toby’s eyes adjusted to the dim surroundings. He could see the moon way up over head, some of the snow drifting down into the tunnel. He could see the mud and murky inch or two of water surrounding him. And, he thought he could make out a passageway, and more light at the end of it.

“I think I see it. It’s right behind me,” he called back.

“I’m going to get you out of there,” I called down.

Zac and I ran to the other end of the dried bed.

I swept away the layers of snow and small stones, then cursed silently. It was really small. He was so close but so far. What could I do? What should I do? Determined, I started to squeeze my way in to retrieve my friend. I felt Zac tug on my shirt as I tried to work my way though the small grating.

“Let me go. I’ve got to get him. I thought it was a game. All my fault. It’s all my fault,” Zac said, his eyes slightly glazed over.

I held Zac back, determined to crawl in alone. He wasn't thinking clearly, and I wasn’t even sure if I could get through myself. I told Zac that he was to wait outside. If I got stuck too, he was to run for help.

I slithered in like a caterpillar down the drain. It didn’t have the sudden drop, like the other one. Once in I got past some of the rocks, I found that the opening was too small. A heavy layer of dirt blocked it.

I climbed back out and ran to the larger opening, the one with the sheer drop and Toby at the bottom.

“Toby,” I yelled down. “Can you hear me? Try to crawl towards the tunnel. Can you do it? I need your help to get to you.”

“T-the tunnel?” Toby yelled back.

“Yeah, it’s the only way. Come on, I’ll go in and we’ll have to meet in the middle.”

Zac shook his head and seemed to begin to come out of the haze he was in.

“Jax,” Zac said, “You don’t understand. Claustrophobia. Toby has claustrophobia. He can’t do it.”

I didn’t know what to do, but I knew what not to do. I knew not to panic. I knew that they were all depending on me. Zac. Toby. Taylor. All of them.

Toby’s voice helped me with my decision. He said, “I can make it. It’s just a little climb up, and it’s more like a ramp. I’m starting now.”

I yelled back down that I’d help him move away the dirt, ran back and squeezed my way through the grate on the other side.

__________________________________

My heart started beating so fast..... it feels like it’s going to explode. My throat is closing up. I can’t breath. I’m starting to choke.

Toby crawled toward the tunnel. He could see the thin stream of light at the end. His only way out.

He started climbing.

As he went the tunnel slanted gradually upward. He lifted his head desperately wishing he could walk instead of crawl. He shuddered and pressed his lips tightly together trying not to cry out.

I want to run, but I don’t know where. I want to be free.

Toby continued up. It wasn’t more than a twenty foot crawl, at a slight incline, but to Toby it felt like miles. The walls got closer and closer together. He stopped for a second, scraping his shoulders against the rough rock wedged between the floor and the ceiling.

My hands are sweating. I’m getting so dizzy. I have to hold to stop from falling or fainting.

Toby clutched at the dirt, feeling it scratch between his fingers. He wanted to give up. His knees were bruised and scraped, every muscle cramped. His left ankle hurt every time he put weight on it.

The walls. They’re all around me, even in front of me now. This way is blocked by dirt. I can’t turn around. I can’t go back. I can’t go forward. I’m going to die.

Toby bumped his head, not expecting the ceiling to drop as low as it did. He ducked, keeping his chin low to his chest and went on. He could hear someone scraping away at the dirt blocking his exit from this horrible tunnel. He could hear Jaxsper’s voice.

“Toby, I’ll get you out. You’ve gotta help me. You can do it, Toby. Zac’s waiting for you on the other side.”

Toby tried to help. He pulled away at the dirt blockading his freedom. But each small scrap brought fear. Fear that the ceiling would cave in. Fear that the walls would close up on him. Fear that he would never be able to breathe again.

“Toby.”

It was Zac’s voice.

“Toby, you’re ok. Don’t think of where you are. Think of who you’re with. I’m right here.”

I’ll be able to breathe fresh air once I’m out of this. I’ll be ok. I have to be. Just a little bit more.

The last of the dirt scraped away, and Toby saw Jaxsper’s hand. Jaxsper helped Toby back up and out into the open air.

It was just as Jaxsper had promised. Zac was waiting for him on the other side.

I sent Zac off to call for help. He was starting to come back around to reality, and I thought giving him a project to focus on like calling the police would help snap him back completely. Toby was in no shape to move. His knees were scraped and bloody, his ankle swollen and maybe sprained.

Toby thanked me for saving him. All of a sudden, I lost it. All the fear and pain I was holding back, came exploding out.

“Don’t thank me. I didn’t do anything. I knew you’d be ok. It’s not you I dreamed about. I don’t know.... I feel as though all the pieces of my life are coming together, but I don’t know what for. Any instant now there will be fatalities, and there is no way to turn back,” I stammered, knowing that I didn’t make any sense.

“Jaxsper, get a grip!” Toby answered, assuredly. “You can’t afford to lose it now!”

“You don’t understand! It’s all happening just the way I dreamed. Damn it. I should have told him. I should have told Taylor everything.”

“What? What are you talking about?”

“My dreams. It’s weird, but I know when the things I dream are going to come true. I told Taylor that I dreamed that I was going to die, but I don’t care about that. You see, all the things I kept doing they weren’t to protect me. My fate is sealed, my dreams usually come true. The things I did, they were to save Taylor. I dreamed that after I was killed, he was next! I could have told him. I could have warned him. Don’t you see? In my arrogance, I was sure I could stop it before it started.”

“Jax, you’re scaring me. I think you’re losing it.”

“I’ve lost it already, Toby,” I said sagging lower, “I’ve lost everything. Can’t you see? Every choice I’ve made, every thought I’ve had since Taylor and I were married was to prevent this. And, so far all I've done is bring us here. The last thing Taylor said to me was that I was a coward! Everything I’ve done has been wrong. I....I don’t know what do to. I never have! I’ve been making this up all along. I don’t know a damn thing about what I’m doing.”

Toby looked at me, his eyes so focused. Even despite his injuries, he helped me get a grip back on reality.

“Jax, no one does. Look at what you’ve done. You’ve conquered your fear of never finding someone. You’ve admitted to yourself how deeply you love another guy. You’ve married Taylor for God’s sake. You're my inspiration, and you've helped me find myself and my love for Zac. We’re all making this up as we go along. We don’t have scripts in front of us. It’s all improv, and if you ask me, you’re the best improv actor I know.”

Toby’s words got to the heart of me. I knew what to do. I... I can handle this, no matter what the cost. I know I can. It’s ok. I’m gonna show that bastard that no one ever loved Taylor more than I do. No one!

I could see Zac running back, and quickly straightened up, wiping the tear away from my eye.

"Just gotta pretend to be brave. That's all," I told myself.

Zac said that he couldn’t find a phone without going toward the carnival. The place where this kidnapper was. The place where I think Taylor is being held. It was dangerous. I told Zac to head back up to the road to try to call for help there. Then, I asked Toby if he would be alright left alone for a minute or two while Zac was away.

“Jax! Jax, my brother.....” Zac called out as I headed toward the fairgrounds. Towards that killer. Towards Taylor.

“I’ll get him,” I answered back. “You’ve got to stay here. Call the police and help Toby. I can do this. Don’t worry.

“But.. but Jax...” Zac said.

“Zac,” Toby said, pointing towards the road and hopefully the phones and help. “Go call the police. I’ll be right here when you get back. It’ll be alright. Jaxsper said he can handle it. He told us not to worry.”

At first, that seemed to be true. Taylor was locked in a room. Somewhere. By some stranger. Someone who claimed to love him. A killer. This was it.

“No,” he decided, “there has to be some way out of here.”

The effects of the bump on his head still rattled Taylor. His body shook slightly, and he tried to focus his eyes as he pulled himself upright. On unsteady feet, he walked along the confines of what looked like a storage room. First, he tested the door. It was locked, but then again he knew it would be.

He spun his head around the room, looking for another exit, hoping that as he moved his head back and forth it would match the room which seemed to spin around as well.

He saw it. A window. It ran along the length of one wall, and appeared to be blacked in somehow, since no light came through.

He needed to be up higher to get out of the window. Taylor moved a wooden crate towards his chance at freedom. The crate was too heavy, and Taylor still too groggy to lift it. So, he tilted the box back and forth, resting his weight on it to stop himself from tumbling and using his weight as a counterbalance, until he moved the massive block the foot or so he needed.

Taylor climbed up onto the crate and scraped the dirty film off the window. He could also see what bad shape the window was in. There were cracks in both the glass and the leading holding it in place. It was obvious that this window was not properly insulated as an exterior window might be, and for a brief, unfocused moment Taylor wondered what type of place he was trapped in.

It didn’t lead outside, as he had hoped. Instead, it led to what looked like a hallway. Closer examination proved that the whole window was about to fall apart. Luckily for him, he guessed, it wouldn’t take much to push this thing out.

He wasn’t sure how much time he had before... what was his name... Garon came back. Taylor pulled off his shirt and wrapped it around his left arm to protect himself as much as possible from being cut by the glass. He picked up another piece of wood lying nearby and smashed the window out, clearing away the shards with his cloth covered arm. Then, he waited silently, listening to hear anyone who might be alerted by the shattering of his glass cage. It was quiet. That Garon guy didn’t seem to be here. The sound of the breaking glass would have alerted him of Taylor’s escape for sure.

The hallway on the other side was dark as the room had been behind him. The cold from the other side of the now-broken window came sweeping up to meet him as he jumped through the opening and landed on feet that felt like they were made of jelly.

The shock of the cold air helped steady him. Taylor was shakier on his feet than he thought. The bump on his head made his eyes spin, and the ground along with them. Taylor wasn’t sure how long his strength would stay with him, and he sure didn’t want to have to fight his way out.

It had been a long night. Taylor struggled to make sense of where he was. He could vaguely remember, in all of Garon’s ramblings, that he mentioned that he had taken Taylor to a carnival while he was unconscious. To Taylor, it seemed like forever since he first set out for the carnival. How ironic that, after everything, it’s exactly where he ended up. He was at the carnival, being held inside of one of the rides. The windowed room he was locked in before must have been a control room. This "hallway" looked more like part of one of the rides. From the looks of the tunnel he now stood in, he was in the Tunnel of Love.

It was so sick. So twisted that Taylor could scarcely believe it. Never in his wildest imaginings had he envisioned a kidnapping, being held by a maniac, and several people murdered.

“A killer,” he thought. “He’s actually killed people. He didn’t just hurt them. He killed them. And, he says he killed them for me. To get my attention, and I barely know who he is.”

It was like Jaxsper was trying to warn him. It was as though Jax’s craziest dreams had gone out of control and become life-sized.

“I’ve got to get out of here. I’ve got to find Jaxsper,” Taylor thought.

______________________

I had to find him. I had to get to Taylor. I had to find him before that nut got to him first. And, I had to get to Taylor before that nut followed through on his threat, “Bring the cops and it’s all over.”

There was no other way. We had to call for help. Toby was hurt. Zac wasn’t thinking clearly. The kidnapper was out there, and Taylor still wasn’t safe. I knew that we needed to call the police. It was my only choice.

Memories of my dream kept coming back to me, a dream that I’m afraid every second will come true. I am alone and walking through the colored lights. I see a shadowy figure who is trouble. He has Taylor. I run to save him, but the ground swirls under me. I hear a loud BANG! When I try to scream, it’s a deep, gargling noise. My voice is coming from the floor. I still see the shiny lights, but they are now reflecting off the red, glassy, shiny shards of my broken heart. Then, Taylor’s next. The shadowy figure in my dream goes after Taylor next, and I’m not there to stop him. I’m not there to save Taylor.

The gravity of this made me hope that this was a dream too. This wasn’t really happening. Any moment now I’ll open my eyes and find that I’m in bed at home, dreaming again. Taylor beside me. Everything will be ok.

This wasn’t a dream though. It was all coming true. Just like I had dreamed a million times before. The colored lights of the carnival. The shadowy figure. The gun. I knew this was one of my dreams that somehow foretold the future. But, I wasn’t going to let it happen. I hoped that I could change things enough to prevent it. The gun was no longer a threat. Toby saw to that.

The police were needed. Even though the sight of them might escalate things with this killer, I knew that if my dream came true..... If I was taken away from Taylor.... maybe the police could save him. Even if I couldn’t.

I just had to hold this nut off long enough and keep Taylor safe until help arrived for him. I had to get to Taylor before the nut could. I had to get to him before the police came, and made a crazy man crazier.

______________________

“That loser!” Garon exclaimed loudly as he ran back towards the Tunnel of Love.

“He got away. Now because of him, I've lost my gun! Now what? He’s gonna call the police. No, he won’t do that. I told him not to. No, he’ll call them! I know he will,” Garon continued his verbal argument with himself.

“Haven’t I earned this?! I’ve worked hard enough for it?” There was a bitterness in Garon’s voice. “All my life I’ve worked. That Jaxsper-loser doesn’t know what work is. He had it so easy. He just met Taylor first, that's all. He doesn’t know what it’s like to be laughed at or picked on or ignored. But, I've shown him. I've impressed Taylor Hanson. He appreciates me and my artwork.

Garon shoved his thoughts of his past and future from his mind.

He’d have to get Taylor out of here somehow. Now. Before anyone else showed up. Maybe he'll even help me. Maybe he’d be glad to be away from that Jaxsper-loser, and he could show Taylor Hanson how he was much better for him than that loser.

____________________

It was definitely the Tunnel of Love ride, Taylor decided. Complete with the boats that rode around in the water and the rediculous scary scenes designed to give would-be lovers an excuse to clutch each other. Only this time, the scene was really scary.

Any exits that may exist were hidden to give the surreal effect that this ride was real. Nice if you were planning to get lost in the moment, maddening if you were struggling to find a way out.

The “hall” that he thought he was in, led to a ledge that ran along the water path the boats followed. Taylor hoped that by following this path to the end, he would find the way out. The water reeked, and the snowy cold of outside came through, making the shirtless Taylor shiver. The ride was dark, but some of the carnival lights filtered in. Blue and red and yellow colored lights. It gave him enough illumination to see his way, he hoped, as he balanced his way on the ledge.

Taylor felt for the wall beside him and gingerly took a step, holding one hand in front of him to feel what might be there. His shoe slipped on the algae and as he tried to regain his balance, but he lost it and landed knee-deep in the water. It splashed up, soaking him.

He continued through the knee-deep water, sliding his feet forward as if he were skiing. He kept one hand on the wall and one hand outstretched in front of him. The tunnel was narrow, with barely enough room for him to move.

Slip, slide, slip, slide. BAM! He hit one of the boats in the water, his knee throbbed with the impact. There was no way around the boat that he could feel, the only was up and over. As he started to climb over the boat, it shifted and tipped back and forth in the water, throwing an already woozy Taylor more off balance.

His feet slid out from under him on the slippery wet floor and he fell backwards, knocking his head on the side of the boat. The last thing he saw was one of those dumb, neon hearts in the stupid Tunnel of Love ride. His eyes closed eyes and his limp body slithered downward towards the cold, black water.

______________________

BAM!

The door to the control room swung open loudly.

“Great way to make an entrance,” Garon thought. “Impressive. Powerful. All the things Taylor Hanson is looking for. All the things that Jaxsper-loser is not.”

But, Garon didn’t find Taylor waiting for him. What he found was an empty room and a broken window.

Taylor was somewhere on the other side. Away from him.

Garon screamed in anger.

Wrrrrzzzz, click!

The song, the song that Garon had picked out to be “their” song, started it’s auto-repeat play again.

The night we met I knew I needed you so, and if I had the chance I’d never let you go...”

Jaxsper! Jaxsper must have taken him! He did it again! That loser must have gotten to Taylor before he could. Again! He stole Taylor again!

Garon’s eyes saw red as he turned some of the knobs on the ride’s control panel, hoping to turn on some of the lights. He climbed through the shattered window and jumped down into the Tunnel of Love.

“I’ll get him back and eliminate any chance of Jaxsper stealing Taylor away from the right guy a third time!” he thought.

_____________________

My blood raced and my whole body was on alert - every muscle tensed and ready.

I wasn’t looking forward to this but all the signs were there. I was in the carnival. I knew this was where Taylor had to be, but where? It was a huge place. I had to find him somehow.

I thought back to what the Indian shaman told me when he married Taylor and me. "There is a bond between you two that goes deeper than physical attraction. Concentrate on that. It will calm the fears and doubts. Stay in touch with that bond. It will lead you down the right path.”

I can do this. I know I can.

I tried to calm myself and think only of the moment. Only of Taylor. It was similar to an acting exercise I’ve done before.

When you have no light to guide you, and no one to walk to walk beside you, I will come to you. Oh I will come to you. When the night is dark and stormy, you won't have to reach out for me. I will come to you. Oh I will come to you.

That song was stuck in my head. No matter how I tried to clear my thoughts, it stayed with me.

Have no fear when your tears are falling. I will hear your spirit calling. I swear I'll be there come what may

The Tunnel of Love.

I knew he was there. Somehow I knew that was where Taylor was being held.

It all made sense. The crazy guy who was going to force Taylor to love him. The irony of the Tunnel of Love. Even the colored lights and swirling ground in my dream. It had to be there.

I ran as quickly as I could towards the entrance. Towards where I knew Taylor would be.

I stepped into the opening of the ride. I walked past the row of boats into the dark, enclosed portion. I went behind the scenes, and saw what the public never saw. The steps back there were more like scaffolding than an actual stairway. The scaffolding led to a couple of other doors, that the maintenance people probably used.

I quickly climbed down the scaffolding to the first door. I put my hand on the door handle and pushed it. The dank, rotten odor drifted out into the darkness towards me. I blinked my eyes a few times trying to adjust to the low light, and put my hand over my nose and continued. I couldn’t see, and I sure didn’t want to smell.

Was Taylor somewhere out there looking for help? I closed the door behind me. No sense in losing some element of surprise. I continued onward.

It was dark and silent. Too silent. If Taylor was here, trapped, wouldn’t he be calling for help. Unless, he was unable to.... No! I won’t think that. That’s not how it happens in the dream.

I wanted to call out for him but I didn’t dare. That nut was still loose. Somewhere.

I took a step, then another then walked off into thin air. The path ended and I flailed my arms, grasping for something to break my fall. I plunged down, and into the cold water of the ride. I took the brunt of the fall with my hands and knees. I scrambled up, trying to get my footing on the slick ground below.

I stood in the water feeling behind me for the walkway. Although the fall scared me to death, I was not hurt.

If the killer was here, did he hear my fall? If he did, he would have no trouble finding me. I listened, turning my head but still I heard nothing.

I found I was shaking.

“Stop it,” I told myself firmly. “You can’t fall apart now. Everything’s going to work out. It has to. Don’t be scared.” Even as I said it, I knew what an idiotic command it was. “Try to be like your Dad,” I told myself.

That seemed to help more.

The concrete floor under the water was slick and that moldy smell was worse. I inched forward. Feeling my way along.

After I was a few feet in, I was about to stop. I’d decided I was on a wild goose-chase. I didn’t even know if this was the right place.

Before I could give up, I reached out and my hands touched flesh. Warm, human flesh.

I gasped. Someone was lying there, half in the water, half out. I jerked my hand away and, for one brief instant, swayed dizzily. It could be another victim of this killer. Maybe someone who works here.

It would have been a relief to faint. Instead, I took deep breath and reached out again. I touched a human arm. I moved my hands across it like a blind person reading Braille. It was Taylor!

I fell back in agonizing shock. It was Taylor, a thin trail of blood on his head. Relief followed by fear followed by relief washed over me.

I slid my hands along his naked chest, feeling for a heartbeat. Was he breathing? Tears of relief stung my eyes as I felt his heart throbbing beneath my fingers. He was alive. He was unconscious but alive.

I dipped my hands into the cold water and patted Taylor on the cheek, slapping him lightly to arouse him. He groaned but did not wake up. I put my arms around him and pulled him to his feet. He hung there like a rag-doll. I tried to carry him.

“Hang on,” I whispered. At least I think I whispered it, maybe I just thought it.

He weighed a ton. Thank goodness the door that I came through wasn’t that far away. mentally, I repeated “I think I can, I think I can, I think I can.” As I moved forward.

Splash! Someone jumped into the water behind us. The lights flickered ride started again, and in the brief flash of lights I saw someone coming towards us. Then the lights went out but some of the boats continued moving through the stinky water.

I could see the form of the person approaching us, stagger a bit as he tried to adjust to the lack of light. This is my chance. I heaved Taylor into one of the boats, hoping I wasn’t making his injuries worse. Then again, the alternative was drowning or facing a psycho.

The boat containing Taylor sailed past the nut. He didn’t even look for Taylor, he simply lumbered forward. I’m not sure he could see as well as I could.

I pressed myself against the wall and tried to hide among some of the scaffolding. I heard splashing as the psycho moved near me. He was coming closer. He stopped ever few feet, trying to see where Taylor or I could be.

For a brief moment I thought of trying to sail past the nut in a boat myself, but I decided against it. The best I could do was try to distract him. Move him toward me, because every step he took in my direction was one step away from the boat taking Taylor to safety. I crouched low to the ground, keeping my head above the thick, disgusting water. The thick algae squished between my fingers as I crawled away from the killer.

I can hear you now, Loser,” he yelled. “You were trying to take Taylor Hanson away from me again. You think you’ve got it all figured out, but ask yourself this question, ‘if this is the end of me...if I’m going to die what will become of him?” He said, mocking my voice. “The answer to that is simple. I promise you, I’ll take good care of him. Better than you.”

He was almost next to me now, but looking in the wrong direction. Frantically, I scooped a fistful of algae from he bottom and flung it over my shoulder at the psycho. The goop hit him between the eyes temporarily blinding him.

Then, I scrambled up and tried to move as quickly as I could between the moving boats and the near-total darkness.

“You had your chance. You had your chance to run. You could have left us alone, but you came back. You tried to ruin it for us,” the nut called out as he scooped the filth off of his face.

He looked around, trying to find either of us. For a second he looked in Taylor’s direction. I knew I had to pull his attention back to me.

“You really don’t get it do you? Taylor.... I.... I love him. I’d die for him, or with him. That’s what you do... That’s how you feel when you truly love someone. You don’t kill for him. You'd die for him. Haven’t you ever felt that way about someone? Hasn’t anyone ever felt that way about you?” I yelled.

That’s when he saw me. His eyes narrowed like a predator who found his prey. A smile formed on his mud-soaked face.

My eyes, on the other hand jumped back and forth from his face, to over his shoulder and the boat carrying Taylor to safety.

"There you are, Loser. I've got you."

“What are you going to do now?” I asked.

“Oh please!” he answered, now looking me straight in the eye. “That should be simple even for you, Loser. You die.”

The killer reached behind his back and pulled out a long knife. The silver blade was almost black in the dim light, but the sharp edge caught the glow from distant carnival lights and threw glittering sparks.

He loved that. The killer loved the whole vision of it. His powerful stance. The way he held the knife. This was his way. Not that noisy gun he had earlier. This was the way of a true artist. This was the way he created his previous works. The canvas was perfect, with that Jaxsper-loser cowering in the corner like the coward he was.

“You’re luckier than I would have guessed,” he said. “Lucky to have found us. Lucky enough to fool Taylor into thinking you’re better than I am, but your luck has run out.” He stretch out a hand and said, “Come on, I’ll make it painless.”

“No you won’t.” I answered.

The killer smiled and said, “You’re right. I won’t. This is going to hurt like hell.”

I forced myself to look at him, not the knife. I tried to use some of the methods I’d picked up in acting class to gauge what his thought process was, and what his next move would be. Watch your scene partner’s every move. But, I couldn’t help myself, I had to look past him at the boat. Taylor was almost out of sight.

That’s when he made his move. I took my eyes off his and he lunged at me, not with the knife but his free hand. He hissed like a venomous cat and lunged at me. He punched me. I’ve never been hit before. It’s not what it looks like in the movies. It was a wild, uncontrolled punch.

I tumbled backwards. He came at me with the knife, slashing it through the air in an over-dramatic fashion. As I fell onto my back in the muck, my leg knocked the knife out of his hand. It wasn’t planned. It wasn’t like it looks in the movies where the hero disarms the villain with a roundhouse kick. But, it worked just the same.

My head fell under the waterline and cracked against the concrete below. My kick knocked the killer in the opposite direction, and I heard the knife splash some distance away.

It wasn’t like the movies. I didn’t jump back up, seemingly unharmed. The knock on my head made me get dizzy. I struggled to pull myself up to my feet, but I found my arms and legs didn’t respond as quickly as I’d like.

Survival instinct helped me pull my head above water, though. Muck and filthy water blinded me for a second, but I could hear the sounds of breathing. A hand grasped my ankle then another closed on my knee. I could feel weight on me. The killer was climbing up my body. Slowly the killer dragged himself up my body.

I strained to fight him off, even though I knew I couldn’t. I’ve known since I had the dream that it would end like this. Not exactly like this, but it would end just the same. There was no way out of this. I hoped that I had done enough. I hoped that Taylor would be safe.

“I always knew that you were a loser,” the killer spat down on me as he closed his hands around my neck and pushed me back under the water.

My arms and legs moved, and my body struggled. I could hear my throat gagging as his hands tightened around it. I could see his face through the murky water.

“Thou shalt not kill. Thou shalt not kill. Thou shalt not kill,” he repeated over and over again.

When you die, they say your whole life flashes in front of you. Right now, I’m seven years old falling off my bike, spraining my wrist. Now, I’m ten years old and running to my dad to tell him about a bad dream I had. He’s telling me that it’s ok; that he’s got me. I'm twelve and I'm at my Dad's funeral, promising him that I'll make him proud of me. I’m fifteen and leaving home to be on TV. I’m going to be on ‘The Real World’. It’s my big break, and nothing could be better. Now, I’m looking up to see the sparkle in Taylor’s eyes for the first time, and I’m realizing that absolutely nothing ever could be better than that.

My past is catching up to me. I’m almost up to that horrible moment in my life when I realized that I’d run out of oxygen.

I hope that Taylor’s boat got him to safety.

Then, there was darkness.

Pitch-black darkness.

“Jaxsper, don’t leave me....” I could swear I heard Taylor say.

“It’s me, son. I’ve got you now. Don’t be afraid.” was the next voice I heard.

I’m dead.

I’m dead.

A heartbeat ago, I was choked to death. I watched my entire life flash before my eyes. You know, I’ve heard people say that sort of thing happens. I never really believed it. Live and learn. It happened. There was nothing I could do but watch the show.. and relive the finest life anyone ever had. Then, the show was over.

Rather than fade to black like a movie, it got brighter. The light was so bright.

A voice came from one side of the light.

“It’s me, Jaxsper. Don’t be afraid. Take my hand.”

I couldn’t believe it. It was a voice I hadn’t heard in years.

“Dad?! Dad is that you?”

It was him. My Dad. It’s hard to put into words what I felt. It was sort of like some virtual reality game cranked up by 100. Sounds and sights and feelings coming at me at lightspeed.

“That is is you, isn’t it, Dad?” I’ve found you? I...I’ve missed you so much!”

It was him. I was hugging him. My Dad. I thought I’d never see him again.

“And I’ve missed you too, son. When I found out you were coming, well, of course I was sad but I couldn’t wait to see you again.”

It was like the whole ‘life flashing before your eyes’ kinda thing. It was so cliche and predictable. I guess that’s what made it seem true, because it was so familiar.

I just stood there, hugging my Dad. It’s been years since I’ve seen or been able to talk to him, and I didn’t know what to say. I just pulled back, looked around and said the lamest thing I could think of.

“So... uh... this is Heaven?”

He told me that it was what I thought it should be. That what’s around us is so intense that our minds do us a favor by processing the information in familiar terms. My Dad was like that. A real meta-physical weirdo, just like the time he tried to explain to me where babies come from without describing sex. I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Now this, Jaxsper,” he said, “This is Heaven.”

I looked around again and the bright light was replaced by my old house. The house I lived in when I was a little kid, complete with the tree house in the back that dad made for me. Oh man, I remember that tree house. Other than my Mom’s chocolate chip cookies, or a Hanson CD, it’s my most favorite thing in the whole wide world. I was 12 when my Mom and I moved, and I thought I would never see it again.

“I’m glad you like it, Jaxsper,” Dad said as we walked to the treehouse. “I made it for you. It’s something that reminds me of you.”

I remember the day my Dad built the treehouse for me. I came home from the second grade and found it. I don’t know what surprised me more, the fact that he made it for me, or that my Dad could actually climb a tree.

We climbed up to the treehouse and through the trapdoor, just like we did when I was seven. The treehouse still had that creaky board on one spot of the floor and smelled that old-woody smell. We sat down on the old rugs Dad nailed up there.

“Dad, I did it. I was on TV. I was a star for a little while, just like I told you I would be.”

My Dad looked at me and smiled. He told me that he always knew I would be. That he knew that nothing could stop his little Jaxsper. I’d forgotten that he used to call me that. “His little Jaxsper.” When I got older, it used to drive me nuts, like he was treating me like a little kid. Of course I was a little kid, but I hated it just the same. Now, it was comforting. Familiar. As I talked to my Dad, I found myself acting sillier and sillier, like I was a little boy. I was his little Jaxsper.

I told him all about being on TV, filming The Real World Hanson, how it made me sort of famous at school, and how Mom was worried about me leaving home. I told him all about it. All but one thing. That one thing I saved until last.

“Dad. There’s something else. Something I couldn’t even tell Mom. I tried to really hard but... Dad, I... I found someone. His name is Taylor. Dad, he is the best thing in the world. I love him more than anything. We met when I was filming. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him.”

Before my Dad died, I promised him that I would make him proud of me. That I’d be on TV and famous and happy. I know it’s dumb, and I know that he loves me, but part of me was always afraid that I’d let him down. Because I wasn’t doing things the normal way. I wasn’t with a girl.

He just looked at me and smiled. There wasn’t some big, dramatic disappointment or acceptance or blow-up or anything I feared. It was simple. He even congratulated me when I told him that Tay and I got married. He’d known. There was never anything I could hide from my Dad.

That’s when I really opened the floodgates. If Dad thought I was animated and excited about being on TV, he’d seen nothing yet. I told him all about me and Tay. All of our adventures, our wedding, the things we’d done, the promises we’d made, how he made me feel. I told him how happy Taylor made me.

My Dad sat there and watched me. His eyes crinkled up in the corners like they always do when he smiles. It felt so good to tell him. So good to share my happiness with someone, and not be afraid or nervous about how they would react.

“It’s times like that... times when I’m really happy, like when I heard I was going to be on TV or when I first met Taylor... times like that when I’d forget, Dad. Forget that you weren’t there to hear about it. That was always the worst part. Every time I’d get so happy, I’d want to tell you. Then I’d remember, and you’d die away again.”

The funny thing is, as I told Dad about Taylor and me, and realized how silly a secret like ‘who I love’ is. Just telling someone made me happier and happier. I wanted to tell Taylor that he was right, and that the whole secret thing was no big deal. Then, I remembered. I wished I would have...

“Jaxsper, sometimes you can be so silly,” Dad said. “You talk about me like I’m really gone. I’m not. I’m in you. I’m there watching you, and sometimes you’re all I can think about. When I look at you and see the sparkle in your eyes, you remind me of me the day that I first met your mother. I want you to think of me, and I want you to talk to me whenever things get scary or confusing. Maybe it will help. There will always be a part of me here just for you. I love you, son, but someone needs your love now more than I do.”

Something about the way Dad said that. It was weird. Before, I was content and happy with Taylor, with only a nagging fear in the back of my mind that it would end. It did. Now, I was happy that I found my Dad, but there was still something missing. I felt incomplete. Now my Dad was talking weird too.

“That sounds scary, Dad. Like you’re going away from me again,” I said.

“I am. I’m sorry Jaxsper. I’m afraid it’s going to be awhile until I see you again. You are going back. This isn’t your time yet,” he said, smiling and shaking his head.

“I’m gonna lose you again? Dad, I can’t. My dreams. I dreamed this would happen. It had to come true, you used to tell me that. I... I never told you this but before you.... well before what happened to you... I dreamed about that too. I knew it would happen, Dad. It came true. They always come true. I love you, Dad.”

“It isn’t true, little Jaxsper. They don’t always come true. You’ve got to fight. I’m convinced that the reason you’re here is because I told you that your dreams always have to come true. It doesn’t have to be that way at all. Don’t think that you’re trapped because a dream told you that. For once I’m begging you not to listen to me. To forget what I told you. You have to trust me on this, son. No one knows the future, that’s the best part.”

“No! You’re my Daddy. I’ve got to stay with you. I won’t let you go again!”

I was getting really stupid and childish. I felt like my first day of kindergarten, when my Dad dropped me off. That day, I felt that I would never see him again. It was only for four hours, but it seemed like forever to a five year old. Suddenly, I feel the same way.

“Don’t be scared of tomorrow, Jaxsper. You don’t have to be. No matter what anyone says or thinks or tells you, I know that you are going to make all the right choices.”

“How come you’re so sure?” I asked, looking him in the eye. I tried to study his face and remember it forever.

“You’re my son. I know you, and I know your dreams. I promise you that if you stick with them... every dream you ever had will come true. Besides, I didn’t raise my son to be a quitter, and I know you would never walk away from anything you really wanted. I’m so happy that we had this time together. I think you needed to hear me tell you that again. I’m proud of your Jaxsper.”

The treehouse faded, and was replaced by that indescribable, bright-light thing. Rather than moving toward it, my Dad took me by the hand and led me away from it.

“Will you do your Dad a of favors, Jaxsper?,” he said. “First, tell Taylor that I said, ‘hello’ and tell him to take better care of my son. I don’t want to have to see you again for a long, long time.”

“I will, Dad. What’s the second thing,” I asked.

He tuned to me, and looked me straight in the eye.

“Have a great life,” he said smiling, his eyes doing that crinkley thing again.

I hugged my Dad goodbye, and then let go of my hand. I kept walking. He stayed behind, but this time I didn’t feel as though I was completely losing him.

I was choked up. Literally. I started coughing, and couldn’t stop myself.

“Are you alright, Jaxsper?” I heard him yell after me.

“It’s ok, Dad. Just a sore throat.”

I turned and said goodbye one final time, and the bright light faded. I could feel weight and gravity again.

I heard myself gasp.

I’m alive.

I thought of what my Dad told me. I thought of Taylor.

I’M ALIVE!

There is darkness around me.

As I try to sit up, I hear myself gasp with the pain. I touch the open wound near my mouth, and hold my trembling hand before me. In the dim light I see the blood drip from my fingers. It falls and then splashes as it hits the grimy water below me. I can taste more of the blood in my mouth.

“I’m alive.” I whispered to myself. My voice is ragged and my throat is raw.

I should be scared. I’m not. It’s as though the simple act of speaking those words has released me from the panic that held me back before.

“I’m alive!”

My head steadied, and my whispered voice took on a note of determination.

Slowly, I pulled myself up from the cold, murky water. I was sore all over, but I ignored it. I knew what I had to do. I had to save Taylor. Nothing, and no one would stand in my way.

I could hear a voice coming from the darkness in front of me. It was him. The killer. My killer. He was calling out Taylor’s name. I wasn’t sure how long I had been out, but I knew that he hadn’t found Taylor yet. At least part of my plan worked. Hopefully the moving boat I put Taylor in had carried him to safety.

I think the sound of my movement drew the killer’s attention. In the dim light, I could see him turn and start back down the tunnel toward me.

I stood and turned, searching for a hiding place. I saw an alcove along of the walls, hidden in shadow. I moved toward it as quietly as I could. If the killer was coming, I wanted the element of surprise.

“I should be scared,” I whispered to myself.

I wasn’t. That... monster was coming closer and closer to me, but I wasn’t scared. I flattened my back against the shadowed wall, and realized I wasn’t even breathing hard. There was something new about me. I had a new energy, a sense of purpose. I knew I could do it now.

He was coming toward me. I had him now. But, when he was about 10 feet away from me, he turned. I’d lost him. Lost his focus. Another few feet and I would have had him. I stayed quiet and waited. I just had to keep this blood out of my eye.

Then I saw what caught his attention. The boats in the Tunnel of Love ride were still moving, and the one carrying Taylor had returned. It was returning, coming back. An unconscious Taylor was sailing straight to the killer.

“Gotcha!,” I heard him say. “I knew I’d win. There isn’t a person on Earth now who could stop me because anyone who could has been eliminated. Can you hear me, Taylor? I’ve done it. For you. All for you. I throttled the life from that loser’s throat with my bare hands just to prove to him that I was serious. He is dead. He is nothing. I’m on top now and that loser is six feet under.

I heard Taylor moan. He was still unconscious from whatever happened to him before, but it looked like he was starting to coming around.

I had to stop this manic. Here. Now. Before he could take another step toward Taylor. I stepped from my hiding place and into a pool of light.

“Get away from him,” I yelled, determinedly.

The killer stopped about three feet from Taylor. He was visibly shaken, hearing my voice.

“You loser!” he screamed. “Always you! Always in the way! I’ll kill you!”

“How can you do this?” I asked, inching toward him. I have to stop him before he reaches Taylor.

“How? Very easily,” he replied. “You took Taylor away from me. If it wasn’t for you, he’d be mine. You’re not what he needs. Not what he really wants. I am. All he has to do is find out, but you keep showing up at the right place at the right time to distract him. You deserve to be punished. I’m going to send you to Hell.”

“You’re insane. I won’t let you have Taylor. You’ve killed people, you maniac. You’re the one who’s going to go to Hell.”

The killer smiled, and turned fully toward me. I accomplished my mission. For the moment, he had forgotten about my unconscious Taylor. His thoughts were only of me.

“I don’t mind going to Hell, as long as I send you there first. Taylor is mine. He’s mine! You don’t deserve him, and the thought of my precious Taylor with some loser like you.... You think you’ve destroyed my plans? You think you can stop me? Nothing can stop true art. I should be furious but I’m not one for regrets. I haven’t given up so much to see my plans fail. You see, I have a new plan. You won’t be able to do a thing to save your own life. Your death is only the beginning. I’m going to make Taylor love me if it’s the last thing any of us do.”

His words chilled me to my very soul. There was no telling what this maniac would do. Just a few minutes more. I have to distract him for a few minutes more. If I can get him crazy enough, maybe I can get close enough to stop him.

“Taylor will never love you. I wouldn’t expect a creature like you to understand love.

I’m not hear to debate with you. I’m here for Taylor. You took him, you animal. And I want him back!” I yelled back, searching the tunnel for something to use as aweapon.

“Taylor Hanson appreciates my art and all that I’ve done for him. All you’ve brought him is confusion and pain. Taylor is mine. He understands me. He wrote me a note telling me so,” he said back.

“In the name of Heaven, wipe that stupid smile off your face,” I yelled. “How can you do this? Look at the horror you’ve caused! Listen to me, and listen harder than you ever have before. You can stop this. You understand? It’s not too late. Stop this.”

“We can’t stop now, loser!” he yelled back at me. “We can’t stop until you’re dead.”

He rushed toward me. This time, I didn’t crouch or hide. I went toward him too. I landed a punch in his face. Not the most poetic punch in the world, but one that sent him staggering back away from me. He ended up falling back into the mud.

It wasn’t over. We both knew it.

The killer dragged himself to his hands and knees. I knew he could taste the dirt of the tunnel as he began to crawl through the filth. I hoped that the hot taste of his own blood mixed the cold taste of his defeat.

The glint of the knife caught Garon’s eye. It was the knife he intended to use on me earlier. We both thought it was lost in our struggle. We both were wrong. Something happened. Garon smiled as he realized that the knife, his artist tool, was within his grasp. He was fully insane now. He moved like an animal, propelled by instinct alone.

“How many times do I have to kill you before you stay dead?” he croaked through a bloody lip I gave him.

Before I knew what happened, he grabbed the knife and sprang from the muck, knocking me onto my back. I could feel his weight on me. The fall must have knocked the wind out of me.

He pulled the knife high over his head. I raised my arms to block it, and saw his eyes squint like a predatory animal. His breath was foul like rotting meat.

“Let’s end this now, loser,” he yelled down at me.

“I will not die,” I told myself with vehemence. “No matter what he does to me. No matter how many times he stabs me. I will not die. I’ll keep going. I’ll save Taylor. I’ll not die. Not yet. There’s too many things I need to do, and my Dad didn’t raise a quitter.”

“True art will live on forever. I’m the best after all. I’m better than you. Taylor will love me more than he loves you.”

The knife came down towards me.

That’s when it happened.

The sound came quickly. Like a sledgehammer hitting the cement. A dull, hard thud. The killer tumbled off of me and I saw my angel, Taylor standing over me holding a piece of pipe, now stained by some blood on it.

“Garon, there’s no one in this world I love more than Jax,” Taylor said.

“I....,” said the killer. “You.....” A bloody foam spilled from his lips, and more blood trickled down the side of his head. He toppled over and fell to one side.

I laid there for several seconds trying to understand what had happened. I could see the light shinning from behind Taylor, illuminating him like an angel. Then, slowly I closed my eyes. __________________

“Jaxsper! Hey, Jaxsper. Wake up,”

Slowly I opened and began to focus my eyes. There was Taylor, standing above me, illuminated in the lights. Only this time, the light flashed red.

A paramedic gently moved Taylor aside and shined an even brighter light in my eyes.

“Hey, guess what Jax. There really was a killer after me,” Taylor said as the paramedic continued his examination.

I made a tired, gasping noise that might have been a laugh sat up, swaying for few seconds.

“Thanks for the update,” I told him.

“You look to be ok, but we’re going to take you both to the hospital and have you checked over. You’ve both suffered concussions,” the paramedic said.

“Yeah, they both should have their heads examined,” Zac proclaimed, moving into the light.

“I called the cops and paramedics and stuff,” Zac told me, stating the obvious

I asked him about Toby, and Zac told me he was fine. He told me if Toby was lucky he’d get a room in the hospital next to mine, and that it looked like the four of us were going to have a slumber party there.

“Here,” the paramedics said, handing me a blanket as he walked away to check with the police.

I shook a bit. Funny, I wasn’t really cold. I don’t know why I was shivering. Nervous reaction, the paramedic said. We were all very lucky, the four of us. We all survived.

Taylor gently hugged me, and asked quietly if I was ok. I swore to him that I was.

We could hear the paramedic returning. Taylor started to pull back from our hug.

“Don’t let go of me, Taylor.”

“Not for anything, Jaxsper. I promise,” he said still holding me.

We asked the paramedic for a moment or two more alone, which he. Zac took the hint as well.

“I’m sorry I didn’t believe you, Jaxsper,” Taylor whispered in my ear. “It was just so weird when you told me about those dreams...”

“Yeah well, maybe they were just dreams. Or maybe they were telling me about how one life would end and another would be starting. Taylor, I..... I think I died tonight. I crossed over into...something.”

“What did you see?” Taylor asked, still skeptical but generously allowing me more some more leeway after our ordeal.

“I’m not sure. I remember less with each passing second. It was so much, that I can’t even put into words what I saw.”

“Jaxsper, I don’t understand,” Taylor said. His suspension of disbelief only going so far, even tonight. “If you died. How’d you come back?”

“I came back because...because I love you.”

The paramedics returned and helped Taylor and I into an ambulance. Taylor said that since we were both diagnosed with concussions, we’d probably have to stay awake for at least 24 hours, so as not to slip into a coma. He quietly told me about his plans to make sure I wouldn’t fall asleep.

We were able to ride in the ambulance together. The paramedics said that we could call our parents once we were at the hospital. I told Taylor I was looking forward to telling my Mom everything. I could see the smile on his face when I emphasized everything.

As we rode along, holding hands under the blanket, I thought about how scared I was to tell my mom the truth about me, and how facing the fear of losing Taylor made any other fears look stupid. I think that’s what my dreams were trying to tell me. My father kept saying in my dreams that he would always be with me and that he never stopped loving me. I think that if he was here, he would accept me no matter what I did or who I loved. I think that’s what he was trying to tell me in my dreams. I’m glad I finally stopped to listen to him.

Thanks, Dad.

A second ambulance pulled away from the carnival.

Garon laid there, feigning unconsciousness.

“He said it," Garon thought, "He said my name. It’s really weird hearing him say my name. ‘Garon.’ It’s like I’ve made it. Taylor Hanson said my name,” he thought to himself. “It doesn’t matter if my plan didn’t work. There were too many things I didn’t anticipate. A true masterpiece can’t be made overnight; this was just a sketch. Maybe the song was just wrong. I’ll put this one down to experience. Next time they won’t even hear me coming.”

Garon smiled.