Choices

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Ashley throws on a sweater, grabs her pocketbook and keys.
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Exhausted from moving all day, she just wants a cigarette
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before bet. She steps outside, turns towards her car, and
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here's a rumble. A blue pickup backs into a space.
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Must be a neighbor, she thinks. Hopping into her car,
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the engine sputters to life. Piece of junk, she mutters.
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Staring at the blinking radio clock. She checks her phone.
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It's two am. She drives to a quick trip, buys cigarettes,
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and heads home. As she pulls up the short hill
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before her apartment, she sees the blue truck again, except
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it's in a different spot. While she was gone, it
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moved to the spot directly behind her parking spot. She
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slows down, trying to see who is in the truck.
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As she entes towards her assigned spot, the headlights bounce
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off the other cars. For a split second, she sees
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a shape, the shape of a man sitting in the truck.
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Ashley breaks into a cold sweat. Something just doesn't feel right.
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She hesitates, unsure whether to drive off, but she has
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nowhere to go. Gauging the distance, she decides to run
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for her apartment door. She pulls into her space and
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turns off the car. Key's ready in her hand. She
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steps out Immediately she hears the truck door close. She
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walks quietly, clutching her pocketbook and holding her key. She
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glances back. Out of the corner of her eye. She
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sees the man walking towards her, his footsteps growing closer.
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She hurried to the door, slides in the key, turns
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the knob and opens. Then he was on her. Welcome
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to Sword and Scale Nightmares, True Crime for Bedtime where
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nightmare begins now. Ashley screams. He grabs her by the
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arm and tells her to shut up through clenched teeth.
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Stop screaming, and I won't hurt you. Her thoughts shift
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to her daughter. She wants to say goodbye. The man
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wraps his arms around her and drags her through the door.
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A gun digs into her side. He lets go and
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Ashley slumps to the floor, backing against the wall. His
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cap is low and she notices a second gun in
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a shoe. Why did you scream? He asks. Ashley doesn't answer.
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She begs. Her mind is on her daughter. Please don't
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do this, don't hurt me, my little girl. Doesn't have
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a daddy, and if you kill me, she won't have
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a mommy either. He assures her that if she listens
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and doesn't scream, he won't hurt her. She's shaking so
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hard she can barely breathe. He orders her to the bathroom.
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She thinks it's the perfect place to kill her. As
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she starts walking through the small apartment, she wishes she
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had listened to her stepdad. Hours earlier. At nine forty
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five pm, she was finishing cleaning out her old apartment.
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It was on the second floor, and as she carried
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a couple of bags of trash down the stairs, her
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phone rang. It was her stepdad. He asked her what
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she was doing, you know, basic chit chat. She explained
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she was moving the rest of her stuff. His demeanor changed.
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There's a man on the loose and you're out. Haven't
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you been watching the news? Ashley rolled her eyes. This
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wasn't the first time her stepdad mentioned the guy on
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the news. He woke her up that morning talking about
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the shooting at the courthouse. A man on trial at
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Fulton County had escaped custody. He shot his way out
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of the courtroom. Three people were already dead, including the judge,
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but Ashley didn't see the danger. She lived about half
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an hour away from downtown Atlanta. She got more details
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at the restaurant where she worked as a waitress. A
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group of police officers eating dinner had said not to worry.
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He was probably in Alabama by now. She tried to
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reassure her stepdad. Look, this guy's not gonna come after me.
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I mean, he could be anywhere. In a hurry to
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finish moving, she promises her stepdad she'll grab a few
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more things and be at her new place in just
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a few minutes. Well, okay, he says. Just get home
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and get inside and don't leave. Ashley reaches the bathroom.
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She feels for the wall and turns on the light
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as she walks inside. She walks in as far as
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she can go, then turns around. She's facing the man.
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The gun is aimed at her chest. He's tall, several
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inches taller than her. He was wearing a thick jacket,
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black slacks, and a ball cap pulled down low. He
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keeps stepping back into the hallway, listening for sirens. Then
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he turns towards her and steps into the bathroom. Do
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you know who I am, he says in an angry voice.
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His large body fills the doorframe. No, she says, trying
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to see his face better. You've been watching the news,
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he asks, tilting his head and staring her in the eyes,
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waiting for her to recognize him. A little, she admits.
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The courthouse. Brian Nichols, he pronounces slowly. Ashley's eyes grow wide. Yes,
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she stammers. He's supposed to be in Alabama, not in
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her apartment. He rips off his hat and gets right
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in her face. Do you know me now? His hair
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is closely sh sh and his eyes are small and
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set back, but opened wide. Yes, she nods, I know
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who you are. Her mind races with the facts from
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the news. Three dead at the Fulton County Courthouse. As
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the realization comes crashing down on Ashley, Brian steps back
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into the hallway and into the shadows. When Brian comes back,
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he warns the police could be there any second. Get
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in the tub now. Ashley pulls the curtain aside and
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steps inside. Sit down, he demands. She sits down and
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crosses her legs. Her back is to the wall, and
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Brian stands between her and the only way out look
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She says, I can't leave my five year old little
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girl without a mommy. Her father died four years ago.
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She starts to cry, I can't leave her now, she
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needs me. He sits for a while, rubbing his head
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as if he's deep in thought. Then suddenly he blurts out,
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what is your name? Ashley? Well, Ashley, I don't feel
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comfortable with you. Sit there and don't move. He moves
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for the open door, because if you move, I'll have
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to hurt you, and I don't want to do that.
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I just want to relax. He leaves the room, walks
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through the apartment, gets familiar with every window, every exit.
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Ashley strains her neck trying to see him in the
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reflection of the mirror. She hears him opening and closing
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drawers in the kitchen. When he returns, his thick jacket
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is missing under the blazer that matches a slacks. He
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isn't wearing a shirt. She notices his true size, his chest,
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his arms for the first time, and knows she wouldn't
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stand a chance in a fight. He sets down a
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roll of masking tape, a long brown extension cord, and
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a single window curtain. Ashley can't take her eyes off
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the cord. Here's the deal, he says, as he gets
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the gun on the bathroom counter. I want to relax,
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so I have to tie you up Internally, Ashley starts
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to pray. She straightens up. This is bad. He could
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tie me up, he could kill me. She can't just
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sit there and let it happen. She looks up at him,
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confusion on her face, and asks why. Moments later, she
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was tied up. Her hands were taped from wrist to fingertip.
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Her legs were taped from mid thigh to mid calf.
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The extension cord was thankfully tied around her legs rather
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than around her neck. The curtain was cinched around her body.
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Ashley watched as he looked her up and down. He
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was satisfied she wasn't going anywhere. Lert's out. Do you
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have any pot? I don't, sorry, but I have something
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else I have meth. Ashley regretted it as soon as
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the words left her mouth. The last thing she wanted
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was Brian getting paranoid and acting crazier. She didn't want
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him to do it. She didn't even want to do it.
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That'll work, he says, But I want to take a
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shower and relax. First, Brian bent down and lifted Ashley
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in both arms. She could feel his muscles tightened through
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the curtain. He placed her on a little stool in
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the bathroom. He walked to the closet, grabbed a towel
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and placed it over her head. So you don't have
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to watch, he said. She could still see him from
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the knees down. The shower turns on with a spurt
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before settling into a steady stream. Steam starts to form.
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She has no choice but to watch. The gun in
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his shit shoe is placed next to the other. His
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clothes hit the floor. The rings slide across the rod, then,
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one at a time, his legs disappear into the shower.
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She raises her voice so that he can hear. Do
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you have any kids? She was desperate to distract him
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from the meth. My son was just born. Congratulations, what's
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his name? There was a long pause before he answered.
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The water muffled his voice. It doesn't matter. I'm going
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to prison. You never know. Do you believe in miracles?
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Another long pause. Yeah, you could have died out there today.
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You're alive. You can still see your son. The shower
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turns off. The water gurgles down the drain. The shower
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curtain slides, and his feet reappear into view. She can
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hear him pull his pants up over each leg. A
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few seconds later, he was dressed and demanding she stand up.
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Ashley hops to the bedroom, her legs still tied. She
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sits at the end of the bed like he orders
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her to. Brian untied the curtain and the cord. He
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started cutting the tape with the scissor she didn't know
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he had. When he was done, he stood up, towering
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over her turn around. Nervous but hopeful, Ashley turned around.
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She told herself she could overcome anything as long as
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she lived. She knew she could. The blades of the
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scissors were cold on her arms. Seconds later, the tape
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was off. She stretched as she turned to face him,
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prepared for whatever was next. Now get that stuff. Ashley
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walks to the bedroom and pulls out a small pouch. Here,
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she says, holding it out. Brian looks at it. You're
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gonna do it with me, Ashley speaks, without even thinking. No,
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that stuff ruined my life, she surprises herself. She steps
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back from the counter. She always had the urge, but
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now with everything happening, she doesn't. I'm a drug addict.
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That's why I don't have my daughter. That's the consequence
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of my choices. She points to a photo of her
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daughter on the counter. I'm supposed to see her in
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the morning. Brian watches as Ashley shakes her head. I
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shouldn't have offered it to you, She looks him in
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the eye. It's not worth it. That's how I lost everything.
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But it's your choice. I can't stop you. She turns around.
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She doesn't want to watch. The bathroom behind her is silent,
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then a sharp in hail. Ashley remembers all the battles
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she had with her addiction. She remembers all the back
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and forth arguments in her head, all the struggles to
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do better for her daughter. Brian, do you mind if
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I read? She asks? It felt strange saying his name. Okay,
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he replies. Ashley starts to walk towards her bedroom. Brian follows.
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She grabs a book off her dresser. It's called The
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Purpose Driven Life. It's like a daily devotional, she explains.
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She sits at the edge of her bed. Brian sits
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next to her as she opens the book to day
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thirty two, using what God gave you. Do you want
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to hear it? She asks, sure, he replies. Ashley starts
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to read out loud, first a passage from the Bible,
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then a proverb. As she starts reading the first paragraph,
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Brian listens closely. It's all about finding your purpose in
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life because God deserves your best. Suddenly, Brian says, stop
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read that again. Ashley thinks she might be reaching him,
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teaching him that there is another way, but she can't
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be sure. She finishes the paragraph and looks at Brian.
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He's rubbing his hands on his knees back and forth.
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What do you think my purpose is? He asks, Actually
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couldn't believe what she was about to say, but she
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had to. Maybe you should minister in prison. Brian didn't reply.
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He just stared at the floor distantly, Then quietly he asks,
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what do you think I should do? Ashley puts the
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book down and turns to him. You've got to stop running,
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turn yourself in and pay for what you did. Everyone
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has to pay for their choices, just like I'm paying
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for mine. I don't have my daughter. Lying and doing
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drugs is no different than killing people. In the eyes
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of God, sin is sin. But God can forgive both
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of us. Brian stared at the floor. Ashley couldn't tell
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if he was in thought or about to erupt in anger.
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He stood up and just stared at the dresser before
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walking out of the room. Ashley waited, wondering if he
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was going for the guns in the bathroom. Come in here,
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he says from another room. She gets up from the
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bed and walks into the hall. I'm still in charge here,
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he says. Okay, that's fine, Ashley responds. Brian turns on
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the news. The sound of his name filled the apartment.
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You know, Ashley says. If you don't turn yourself in,
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you will kill more people or be killed yourself. Brian
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slowly turns his head from the TV. Look at my eyes.
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I'm already dead. Ashley knows that. Feeling no, she says,
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you're alive. Think about it. You escaped custody, you got
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out of the court house, you weren't killed, you weren't
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even hurt, and you made it all the way here
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to the apartment that I just moved into two days ago.
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What are the odds? And you don't think that's a sign.
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You have to see that, you have to man up
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and make it for your son. Brian just stares at
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the TV. Ashley gets up and walks into the kitchen.
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Are you hungry? She asks? Brian says yes, so she
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starts to make pancakes, watching him the entire time. She
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remembers how she and her husband had pancakes every Saturday
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morning before he died, before she lost herself in drugs.
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Brian joins her at the bar. He sets something down.
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It's a wallet with a badge. Where'd you get that?
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Ashley asks? I didn't want to kill him. I just
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wanted his truck, but he kept fighting, so I had
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to kill him. Ashley's pulse quickens. She didn't know anything
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about the fourth person dead. Her eyes sticked to the wallet.
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She sees his license. Look at this guy, she says,
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pointing to the picture on the license. He was pretty young.
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That means if you killed someone's husband, someone's father, Do
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you know what that's like, because I do. My husband
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got into a fight, he was outnumbered. When the crowd scattered,
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he was just lying on the ground. Then he got
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up and walked to his truck. He opened the door,
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but he couldn't pull himself inside. I ran to him
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and he collapsed in my arms. The paramedics showed up
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and told me he was gone. Later I learned he
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was stabbed in the heart and died in my arms.
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My daughter will never know her father, and no one
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ever paid. Brian looks up at Ashley as she flips
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a pancake. For a second, she doesn't know what he's
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going to do. Do you mind if I stay here
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for a few days, he asks, and then I'll turn
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myself in. Sure, she replies, you can stay here. Ashley
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hands her captor a plate of pancakes with butter and syrup.
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He eats in minutes. When he finishes, he stands up
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and walks to the bathroom. Ashley hears the sound of
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metal of guns and tenses up. Then Brian reappears, turns
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on the TV and sits on the couch. She lets
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out a sigh of relief. At least he seems relaxed.
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You're going to be on the news, he says. When
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I turn myself in, they'll want to know everything. What
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are you going to say? I'll tell them what happened
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and about the person you are. She watches Brian's head
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nod in agreement. Ashley hesitates for a second. My daughter,
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I'm supposed to see her soon. What time do you
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have to leave to see your daughter? Brian asks, nine fifteen.
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She replies, after more than seven hours in her apartment
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with Brian Nicholls. He said she could go. She doesn't
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believe him. Ashley opens the door and light flits in.
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She steps outside and shuts the door behind her. After
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everything that happened, she is physically and emotionally exhausted. She
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feels as if her legs might give out. She makes
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it to her car, starts it, and drives away. She
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keeps checking the mirror, expecting him to come after her.
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Her hands are shaking so badly she can barely hold
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the phone as she dials nine one one. Brian Nicholls
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would be apprehended without incident. Ashley watched as he was
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led away in cuffs. She was awarded seventy thousand dollars
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for leading authorities to Brian. It was enough to get
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her life on track. It was enough for her to
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provide for her daughter. In the months that followed. The
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police would finally identify the men responsible for her husband's death.
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But that's not what changed her life, not really. It
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was instead her decision made in the middle of the
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worst night of her life, to stop running, to be
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there for her daughter, and to finally face the consequences
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of her own choices. If you enjoyed the show, please
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consider joining plus at Sword and Scale dot com slash plus,
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00:23:31.640 --> 00:23:34.839
but if you can't, consider leaving us a positive review
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on your preferred listening platform. Sweet Dreams and good Night