Odyssey Fiction

What Comes After – Part One

MapleInk62

Summary:

In the days following the upsetting events that unfolded in Whit’s End, police search for the man who pulled a gun on the ice cream shop and discovery emporium’s two employees. With help from both Connie and Eugene, their attacker is soon brought to justice. But, physical harm wasn’t the only thing the wicked man inflicted in his robbery-gone-wrong. Now, prayers for peace and healing to follow for the resulting trauma and pain that may well stay with them for the years to come.

(If this were an actual Odyssey episode, Paul McCusker would come on to give a pre-episode content/parental warning.)

*Quick note, this is the direct sequel of HOLD UP! Haven’t read it yet? Then don’t read this!*

  The silence felt a bit heavy, only broken up by Connie’s sniffles, and the scribbling of the sketch artist’s pencil as he drew up the last bit of information she’d just given about the robber’s facial features. With the sketch nearly done, Officer Tanner jotted one more thing down on his small notepad. The artist stopped sketching, and looked over his work. Then, he gave Officer Tanner a nod. 

  “Okay, Connie, is this the man?” Connie looked at the sketch pad as it was slid over to her. She carefully looked over the hyper realistic pencil sketch that looked almost like the man who had robbed the shop some nights ago now. A hand came up to rub at her eye at the same time that she nodded. “Yeah, that um… looks almost like him.” She confirmed. Officer Tanner hummed. “‘Almost’?”

  “Well, his uh, nose is a little different… I think…” Connie sighed in a discouraged manner. “I-I’m sorry… I d-don’t remember…” Taking note of the still prevalent distress in her tone, Officer Tanner gave her a sympathetic look. “That’s okay, Connie,” He assured her. “You ought to be proud you could recall as much as you did.” If not, be proud that she had the courage to finally come to the station to give her witness statement to the police, to begin with. Connie so briefly half smirked, before her gaze dropped to her lap—folding and unfolding the used tissue in her grip.

  Officer Tanner clicked his pen a few times, looking over his notes as the artist slid the sketchpad back to himself. The two exchanged a nod, and with that, the forensic artist left the small room. “We’re almost done for the moment.” Connie looked at him curiously. “Um, w-will I… need to come back in again after this?” Officer Tanner looked up from his notes. “Only if we have anything else we need to ask of you,” He began. “And then of course, once Eugene has recovered, we’re also going to get his statement.”

  “Oh…” Officer Tanner pressed his lips into a thin line, considering his next words. He slightly shook his head. “And, once this man is caught, you may need to testify at the trial.” That bit of information seemed to have an undesirable effect of stress on Connie. Officer Tanner lightly waved the idea off. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I mentioned that now. That’s still a bit away, so don’t think about it.” He said to her, even adding with, “Anyways, if you rather not be there, you can testify without being physically present in the courtroom.”

  “… Okay.” Connie hummed. Officer Tanner inwardly kicked himself, as usually, this wasn’t the right time to bring this topic up. But, he continued skimming his notes to see if there was anything more he needed to ask his witness. Ideally, it would be in her best interest if they didn’t keep calling her back in numerous times. Clicking his pen one more time, to open it, Officer Tanner spoke up. “Just another question.”

﹝•••﹞

  Turning the page of his book, Mr. Whittaker quietly cleared his throat and adjusted his glasses which rested on the bridge of his nose as he continued reading. He had since been ignoring the constant beep of the medical monitors in the room to concentrate on the words he was reading, or so he thought he had been, anyhow. Whit was near instantly distracted from his reading when he heard a slight change in the pattern at which one of the monitors had been rhythmically beeping. With a hum, Whit looked up to the hospital bed in time to see Eugene beginning to stir.

  Marking his place in his book, Whit set it aside and simply clasped his hands together—patiently waiting for Eugene to notice him. After a moment, groggy eyes behind uncombed hair lazily looked over at him. Whit smiled. “Hi, Eugene.” Looking slightly puzzled, Eugene yawned. He tried sitting himself up, even if a little bit, but immediately stopped as a dull, numbed pain flared in his shoulder. He visibly winced, sucking in a breath through clenched teeth. Whit outstretched a hand in reaction. “Easy now,”

  “… Mr. Whittaker?” Eugene quietly asked, as he settled again. Whit picked up the pair of round glasses that had been set aside while Eugene had been resting, and gave them to him. “Here you are.” Eugene hummed a ‘thank you’, and slowly put them on. “How’d you sleep?” With his uninjured shoulder, Eugene lightly shrugged. “Not well… I experienced a great deal of discomfort during my bout of slumbering.” He answered, yawning at the end of his reply. “I can imagine so, with how badly you were injured.”

  For a moment, while still looking puzzled, Eugene seemed to be pondering something. He first glanced about the room, then looked at the IV line in the bend of his arm, before lastly looking back at Whit. “Mr. Whittaker, how long have I been here?” Whit hummed, and shrugged. “Oh, a couple days now.” He answered. “This is the most coherent you’ve been since you were brought to the hospital.” That observation simply brought more confusion to Eugene. “… It is?” Whit nodded. “You had lost a lot of blood when the surgeons removed the bullet from your shoulder. They hadn’t realized that it had been keeping you from bleeding out until after they removed it.”

  “A bullet?” Eugene’s eyes widened. “Yes. Er, don’t you remember what happened?” Whit asked him, only now realizing that his memory might not be clear. Eugene quietly sighed, and shook his head ‘no’. “You don’t remember the shop being robbed?” Whit wondered. At that, something seemed to don on Eugene. “Yes… I do remember. The man who robbed us was our final customer of the evening, and was unable to pay for his sundae… he instead pulled out a firearm, and demanded the money inside the cash register.” Whit nodded, confirming Eugene’s account. “Do you remember what happened after the robbery?”

  “Why we… or rather- I…er…” Eugene hummed. “I’m unsure…” He confessed. Wanting to help his memory a little, Whit then asked, “Do you remember when we brought you out to the stretcher? Or when I was kneeling behind the counter beside you, telling you to not go to sleep?” Eugene’s eyes narrowed, obviously trying to essentially comb through his memory. “No, no… but I… do recall a gunshot…” He gave Whit an inquisitive look, connecting some dots together with what the older man had mentioned about his being injured. “Am I to presume the man shot me?” He asked. Whit gave another nod in confirmation. “He did…” Whit answered. Then, he paused a moment before continuing—a hand coming up to scratch his chin in a subconscious motion. “… That bullet wound nearly cost you your life, Eugene.” Eugene’s gaze fell a little, brow knitting together, unsure how to answer that. Whit continued. “Thankfully, the surgeons were able to save you. Now, however, you do have a partially shattered shoulder blade.”

  “I see… That certainly explains the pain I am currently experiencing.” Eugene said, though sounding partly distracted as he made his comment. “How bad is the pain?” Whit wondered. In a delayed reaction, Eugene looked over at him. “Hmm-?” He caught himself. “P-Pardon?” Whit gestured vaguely to his shoulder. “Are you in terrible pain? From what I was told, the doctors administered pain medicine in the IV, but if your shoulder is still bothering you…” Eugene shook his head a little. “Though it does feel numbed, so long as I remain laying down, it doesn’t appear to hurt as much.”

  “Alright, if you say so.” Whit replied. “All the same, don’t hesitate to say something if it begins bothering you.” Eugene nodded. “Not to worry. I will do so, if I deem it necessary.” He told him. 

  The conversation lulled briefly, with Whit simply allowing Eugene a few minutes to process all they’d spoken about thus far. Obviously, with the information he’d just shared, it would be a lot to take in. Whit was scooting his chair a bit closer to the bed when Eugene suddenly gasped. He looked back at him. “What is it?” There was an alarmed look on the college student’s face. “Mr. Whittaker, during the robbery, the man shot Officer Kern! A-And Connie! Did he harm her as well?!” Whit gestured for Eugene to calm down. “Woah, take a breath, Eugene!”

  “B-But, Mr. Whittaker-!”

  “Eugene, calm down, you’re only getting worked up!” Whit’s words didn’t seem to do much to help, as Eugene’s sudden bout of panic seemed to grow. Placing a steadying hand on his forearm, Whit then said, “Just like this, breathe in,” He breathed in to demonstrate. Eugene did the same. “And out,” Both breathed out at the same time. “Good…!” Whit said in encouragement, patting Eugene’s arm in a reassuring gesture. “Now, Connie wasn’t shot.”

  “O-Oh… I’m glad!” Whit went on. “And Officer Kern was discharged yesterday. The bullet went clean through, in and out. Miraculously, it didn’t strike any major organs or blood vessels.” Eugene finally seemed to be relaxing, all thanks to the relief upon hearing Whit’s response to his question. “Thank goodness…” He quietly said. Though he sighed, Whit gave Eugene a reassuring smile. “All you need to worry about now is resting, and regaining your strength.” Eugene nodded. “Of course, though… er…” Whit raised a brow. “Though ‘what’?”

  “Won’t I need to give an account of the robbery…? T-To the police, I mean.” Eugene wondered. Whit shook his head a little. “Not until you’re discharged from the hospital.” Eugene seemed dissatisfied by this answer. Whit was quick to fill him in further. “Connie’s already given her own statement, plus a description of the man who robbed the shop.” Eugene hummed. “Ah, I see. Then… I suppose I am able to rest a little easier, in… that case.” He said, yawning just after finishing his sentence. Whit nodded. “Speaking of, maybe you should do that.”

  “Gladly…” Eugene quietly said, blinking tiredly. He took off his glasses, folded the arms, and handed them back to Whit—who set them aside. “I’ll be here a little while longer, so don’t mind me.” Whit told. “Very well.” Eugene replied, settling back down again. “Sleep well, Eugene.” Whit said to him. A sentiment was mumbled in return, as sleep came over Eugene again. 

﹝•••﹞

  The sky was bright and blue that afternoon. All the rain from the past few days had finally ceased, allowing for more pleasant, sunshine filled days to follow. Hardly a cloud could be found, and what could be, was small, fluffy and a pure white. Though, this bright sky wasn’t the only thing June was greeted to when she opened the front door of her home that day. Mr. Whittaker gave the woman a smile. “Afternoon, June.”

  “Hi, Whit.” June greeted in return, stepping aside to open the door wider. “Come in.” Whit thanked her, and entered the home. As June closed the door, she was asked, “How’s Connie?” She shrugged, and shook her head a little. “She’s… Well, still very upset, is all I can really say.” Whit sighed, giving June a sympathetic look. “I’ll let her know you’re here.”

  “Thank you.” June gestured to the living room. “Please, make yourself at home.” She offered, before heading off elsewhere in the house. Whit went over into the other room to wait patiently for Connie. He had been by to visit her just the day before, and she was still distraught then. The two had taken some time to pray together, praying mainly for Connie to be given peace and comfort. Whit hoped that she would be doing even just a little better, but ultimately, he knew the process would take time.

  “Hi, Whit.” Connie greeted, pulling the man from his thoughts. Looking over, he spotted June now standing in the room’s threshold with her teenage daughter. Whit also noticed how tired Connie appeared to be. No doubt thanks to the toll of all that had happened. Her usual ponytail was a bit messily done, and her posture was visibly crouched. Whit offered her a bit of a smile. “Hi, Connie.” He greeted in return. Connie went over to him, and slowly wrapped her arms around Whit in a hug—which he reciprocated, along with a gentle pat on the back. “How’re you doing today?”

  “Same as yesterday… I guess.” Came Connie’s response, as she stepped back from the hug. Crossing her arms, she then went to sit on the couch. Whit joined her. 

  “Oh,” June began. “Would you like anything to drink?” Whit gave the woman a small, intrigued look. “Coffee? Lemonade?” Whit shrugged, answering, “Lemonade, thank you.” June nodded. “Don’t mention it.” She replied, leaving the two be while she went to the kitchen for the lemonade.

  Connie was still staring in the direction of the living room threshold, even after her mom had walked off. Her arms were still crossed over her chest, as she leaned heavily against the backrest of the couch. Whit leaned forward a little to try and catch her eye. “I heard you went to the station today.” Connie briefly glanced up at him, before then glancing down to her lap. She quietly sighed. “Yeah, I did.” She confirmed. “And, how did that go? If you’re allowed to tell me, of course.”

  “I mean… it went.” Whit tutted. Rolling her eyes, more in a way to avoid becoming teary-eyed, Connie continued. “I had to give the police a description of the guy… and I also had to… retell what happened…” Whit placed a hand on Connie’s shoulder, trying to comfort her. He’d witnessed how the robbery had traumatized and effected her, and he could only imagine how unpleasant retelling the events—most likely in great detail—would be.  “It sounds like you almost had to relive this, in a way… And so soon after, as well.” Connie shrugged. “Kinda…” She shook her head a little. “Um… Can we… Can we talk about something else right now?”

  “Of course.” Whit answered, respectfully dropping the topic for the moment. Connie looked up again, a worried look in her eyes. “How’s… How’s Eugene?” At that question, Whit smiled a bit. “Well, I went to see him this morning. He woke up, and was talking with me just fine.” The worry slowly changed into something of hope. “Really?” Whit nodded. “He was still very tired, but I’m glad he was able to carry a conversation.” Connie briefly smirked, before her gaze fell again. “Yeah, that’s great.”

  “It is.” Connie could feel Whit giving her shoulder a light squeeze. There was a question on his mind, something he wanted to ask her about. However, Whit was unsure if his assumption was even founded or not. He didn’t want to possibly stress Connie more, on top of what all she was dealing with, after all. 

  “… How long’s he going to be in the hospital?” Came Connie’s next question. “That sort of depends, but if I had to guess, a few more days at the least.” Whit replied. “But, very likely his shoulder will still be healing.” Connie hummed. “The doctors said it was shattered, right?” Whit nodded. “Partially, anyhow.” He added. “Sounds painful…” Connie commented. “I can well imagine it would be.” 

 Silence nearly fell over the conversation. Whit’s thoughts came back to his unworded assumption, seeing how Connie seemed to have a faint expression of pity. Though, what that pity was directed towards, he couldn’t be sure. “You know,” Whit began. “For as worried as you were about Eugene, I think he was just as worried about you—not knowing if you’d also been hurt.” Connie glanced back at Whit again. “I told him that you’re okay, but it wouldn’t hurt if you stopped by to see him.” He suggested. Connie half shrugged. “Yeah… Yeah, I guess it wouldn’t.”

   June finally returned from the kitchen with the glass of lemonade. She’d purposefully lingered in the kitchen a little longer than it would have truly taken her to go about getting the pitcher of lemonade and pouring the beverage into a cup, as she simply wanted to give Whit and Connie a moment to talk with one another uninterrupted. But, she’d overheard the conversation coming to a lull, and decided to return to the living room. 

  “Here’s your lemonade, Whit.” The man smiled and nodded, taking the glass from her. “Thank you, June.” Whit answered with a smile. “Um…” Connie quietly cleared her throat, finding her next words. “When would be a good time..?” Whit seemed briefly puzzled. Connie nodded in emphasis of what they’d just been talking about. “Y’know… to visit Eugene.” He hummed. “I think afternoon would be a good time. He’d probably still be resting in the morning.” Connie nodded again. June gave her daughter a curious look, before suggesting, “We can even go tomorrow.”

  “Okay, yeah.” Connie agreed. Her mother smiled. “Tomorrow it is, then.” Whit, still smiling, took a drink of his lemonade.

﹝•••﹞

  It had been only a day since the Odyssey Police had released the sketch of the man wanted for the hold up on Whit’s End. Just about everyone in the county had seen this sketch, whether by newspaper or TV news report. Of course, now the image was slowly becoming ingrained in folks’ minds, and some were already keeping an eye out for any man who looked familiar in any way. Many found themselves doing a double take whenever they saw a man who shared even the slightest feature with the wanted one. Everyone in town was just as eager for this man to be caught. They all agreed that this man was very dangerous simply by the fact he’d decided to hold up Whit’s End of all places.

  A young man walked out from inside the gas station he was employed at to go pump a customer’s gas. On a normal day, he would likely be whistling a tune to himself happily while going about taking the nozzle from its slot. But not today. He was guarded, feeling uneasy about possibly encountering the wanted man. Coming up next to the black Acura, Rob noticed that the driver had already popped open the gas door. Wordlessly, he unscrewed the cap and went to grab the gas nozzle. Sliding it into the hole, Rob pressed the trigger and the gas began flowing into the vehicle.

  A bit anxiously, Rob tucked his empty hand into his pocket, and began slowly rocking back and forth on his feet. He looked about himself, watching  for any shady people who happened to be around. It had been also mentioned by the police that likely, their man was no longer in Odyssey. Hence why they released the sketch to the whole of Campbell County. This of course meant he could possibly be laying low in Connellsville before moving on again.

  The nozzle clicked, pulling Rob from his worried thoughts. The gas tank was filled. The young man took the nozzle from the car, and screwed the cap back on before closing the small door. As Rob replaced the nozzle, the driver’s window of the Acura was rolled down. “Hey, kid,” A man’s voice began. Rob looked to the driver. He blinked, even leaning down slightly to look at this guy while he pulled cash from his wallet. Rob could feel his anxiety slowly climbing. The man looked scarily familiar.

  The man glanced up at the young man again, beginning to hold out the bill. But he noticed the look he was being given. “Kid, you all good there?” Blinking several times, Rob straightened up and nodded. The man eyed him up and down, but ultimately gave him the cash. “Keep the change.” Rob took the money from the man. “Th… Thank you.” The man grumbled something in return as he turned the engine on and pulled out of the gas station. Rob watched him leave, reading the numbers on the vehicle’s license plate. “… YYP 627.” Stuffing the cash in his pocket for the moment, Rob quickly turned to go back inside the gas station to find his manager. “YYP 627! Mr. Manson!”

﹝•••﹞

 Coming up to one of the smaller patient rooms, the kind nurse’s stride came to a slow halt as she turned to look at the mother and daughter following her. With a small hand motion, she said, “He’s just in here.” June gave the other woman an appreciative smile. “Thank you.” The nurse nodded. “You’re welcome.” She replied, before heading off down the hall—returning to her duties. June gave Connie a brief glance, before bringing a fist up to gently knock on the frame of the open hospital room door. 

  After knocking the first time, June peered into the room and over to the bed. She was about to assume Eugene to be resting, but he turned his head to looked in her direction. A small smile appeared on his face. A smile, which June returned. “Salutations, Mrs. Kendall.” Eugene greeted. “Hello, Eugene. May we come in?” Nodding, Eugene answered, “Yes, of course. Please do!” June walked through the threshold of the door, with Connie following behind her—though her gait was a bit slower than her mother’s. Eugene’s expression lit up. Connie mustered a smile. “… Hi, Eugene.”

  “Connie!” Eugene exclaimed, his small smile growing. “I am so glad to see you’re alright!” Connie blinked. “W-Well, of course, I knew you were—as Mr. Whittaker had informed me—but truly, seeing that you are, indeed, unharmed is most relieving!” Connie exchanged a look with her mom as Eugene nearly rambled off in his bout of excitement. Quietly, a small laugh came from Connie in response. “I guess that… y’know, I’m happy you’re… okay, too, sorta? Um…” Eugene shook his head a little, though was still smiling. “Yes, in the least, I am okay, Miss Kendall.”

  “So, Eugene, how have you been holding up?” June wondered. She had been continually consoling her daughter ever since the hold up, and had a hunch that surely—in a similar way—Eugene would be just as affected by the events as Connie was. Eugene, though, seemed to have understood her question differently than she’d intended him to. “Hm… I still feel somewhat fatigued. Though, I very well suspect being laid up in a hospital bed is certainly a contributing factor.” He began, “And my shoulder is healing, er… slowly.”

  “Ah,” June tutted. “Does it hurt now?” Eugene shook his head ‘no’, but the action seemed very hesitant and uncertain. “The pain is not completely gone, and it feels as though the morphine has numbed it… but, it still lingers.” He replied, glancing off as he tried to find the right words to depict his answer. “You see, it- My apologies… I’m not certain how exactly to explain it.” June lightly waved the apology off. “It’s okay, don’t apologize.” Eugene smirked in thanks. “Well… The doctor has explained that it may take time to regain proper range of motion as the broken bone heals.”

  “It will?” Eugene nodded, confirming Connie’s question. Her gaze fell a little, as she quietly hummed an “oh”. Eugene didn’t take notice of the expression on her face, when June spoke again. “I’m sure that’s something a little physical therapy could help with.” She commented with an optimistic tone. “Yes, o-of course.” Eugene agreed, all the while slowly adjusting himself to be sat a bit more upright. But, he accidentally moved the wrong way, which resulted with a sharp pain shooting from his shoulder. He quietly hissed in reaction. 

  “Oh, hold on,” June went over to help make sure Eugene didn’t hurt himself more. She placed a hand behind his good shoulder, allowing him the support to scoot back a bit against the small stack of pillows. Connie had unwittingly taken a step back when Eugene had hissed in pain. She was watching worriedly as her mother helped him.“There you go.” Eugene partially relaxed again, his tense expression fading. “… Thank you, Mrs. Kendall.” June smiled. “You’re welcome.” She replied. Glancing past June, Eugene noticed how wide-eyed Connie looked. 

  “… Miss Kendall?” June also turned to look at her daughter. However, she also picked up on Connie’s expression—noticing the watery glint in her eyes. “Oh, honey-” Connie interrupted her, bringing a hand up to uselessly hide the emotion showing on her face. “I… I-I’m sorry,” She blurted, turning on her heel and hurriedly walking out into the hall. Eugene blinked. June took a step to go after her, but briefly turned back to Eugene. “Could you excuse us a moment?”

  “I believe she already has… O-Oh, I er—pardon—yes.” June gave a quick ‘thank you’, and hurried off after Connie. Eugene’s brow furrowed, a bit unsure as to what had happened.

﹝•••﹞

   Standing by herself a few doors away from the room, Connie had her arms wrapped around herself. She was visibly shaking, trying so hard not to burst into tears in the middle of the hospital’s hallway. June came up behind her, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Connie?” Not saying a word, the teenager turned around and hugged her mother—hiding her face in her shoulder. As though passers-by wouldn’t see her there. June instantly returned the hug, quietly shushing Connie. “Hey… What’s going on, honey?”

  “I…” Connie hesitated. “… don’t know.” She quietly confessed. June sighed sympathetically. “Okay… It’s okay.” Before speaking up again, Connie took a breath. “Can we… go home?” June shrugged. “We can.” She answered. Pulling back from the hug, she continued. “I just want to say goodbye to Eugene first.” June told her. Connie nodded. “… Okay.” She said. “Are you coming back with me?” To that, Connie shook her head ‘no’. “I’ll go wait for you… over in the waiting area, if it’s okay, mom.”

  “If you want to, you can do that.” June replied. She gave her daughter a light squeeze on the shoulder, before the two split up—June returning to Eugene’s hospital room, and Connie going out to the waiting area.

originally posted to AO3, here.