He’s At Your Door

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He’s At Your Door Page 6

by Sinclair, Alex


  "Did he see you?" she asks.

  "I don't know. I could hear him coming for me. He was scoping out the backyard. Probably trying to find another way in."

  "You think?"

  "Had to be. He realizes we won't run," I say as I conclude in my head.

  "What makes you think that?" Beth asks as her hands steady.

  "Simple. He knows we've spotted him out there. He's not trying to hide his presence from us if he’s walked around the back of the house without a care in the world."

  "Great. This guy has confidence on his side. Should make killing us a whole lot easier."

  I look down at the box. "I won’t let that happen, Beth," I say. I squat and tilt the cardboard over to the correct way up. "I've been running from Zach for too long to let him keep doing this to me. I won't let him ruin another young life."

  Beth steps back from me as I pry the box open with both hands. She must feel my sincerity as I bare my soul in front of her unlike I've been able to for so long. If only I could explain myself in full and give her the absolute truth. I decide in the moment if I can save Beth from whatever this is and survive Zach's control, I will tell her everything about my past. All of it.

  "Did you at least find the cable?" Beth asks.

  "I think so," I say. "I know I shoved it in here a few years ago as a backup. I never thought it would be for something so crazy as this." Old tech falls from the box in the form of items that will never be demanded again. Dusty oversize hard drives and their power adapters impede the Ethernet cable I need more than anything else in this house.

  "Here we go." I find one end of the cord and tug it through and out of the carton. From memory, the cable is too long. I don't know why I thought I'd need so much.

  "It's a mile long," Beth jokes.

  "I know,” I chuckle. "Almost got the damn thing out. Just have to locate the—" I stop myself short when I find the end of the cable. "Perfect. Okay, Beth, take this and run it out to the modem in the kitchen. Put it into one of the spare ports that has the word LAN above it. I'll plug the other end into my laptop."

  "And then we'll be back online?"

  "Simple as that." I say as I run the cable toward my laptop. Beth moves in the opposite direction to the kitchen. "There's no way in hell that guy out there can block a wired connection," I say. "Zach probably figured I wouldn't have the capability to work out such a thing. He guessed wrong."

  I reach my laptop and see it is still offline with multiple programs trying to bug me to access the web. What did we ever do on computers before the Internet came to be? I find the Ethernet port on my workstation and plug in the cable, giving the port a quick blow beforehand to remove any dust.

  "Okay, Beth. I'm in. How about you?" I pause, waiting in anticipation for her to confirm she's done her part. I look back to my screen and see I'm still disconnected from the rest of the world.

  "Karen. We may have a problem."

  "What?" I ask. "Don't tell me you're too young to work out where to plug it in. This is just gold." I rush to her and move toward the modem, seeing Beth standing over the device like she's stumbled upon some ancient ruins. "Kids today," I tut. I feel so old suddenly despite my age.

  "It's not that," Beth says, almost at a whisper.

  The pit of my stomach turns into knots when I realize something is wrong. I stand beside Beth and spot her holding a section of the cable near the end by the plug. A great big chunk of insulation around the wiring is missing. Half of the wiring below has been severed. How did I miss this before?

  Beth turns to me with tears in her eyes. "Can you fix this?"

  I think the damage is most likely caused by rats and shake my head. "No."

  "You must be able to. We could try to twist the wires back into place. There's probably something inside this carton that—"

  Beth stops talking when she picks up the box and sees the same thing as me. Several holes exist in the corners where the vermin have chewed their way in. My eyes transition to the damaged Ethernet cord. There's no way in hell I can use this long useless cable to connect to the Internet now.

  Beth and I stare at one another in silence as I realize how trapped we truly are.

  Chapter 18

  "What do we do?" Beth rattles at me for the third time in a row as I search through my room for an Ethernet cable. My laptop now sits on my desk, still disconnected from the web. I still can't believe the cord I risked my life to retrieve is broken. It's like someone knew I would need it and destroyed it. That, or the more likely explanation being vermin had gotten into the shed and chewed their way into the unprotected box. The truth didn't matter. Without the cord, we can't get online and call for help, be it the police or Dustin.

  "Seriously, Karen, what the hell are we going to do? We can't keep searching for this damn thing. We need to act and take charge and—"

  "And what?" I yell, interrupting as I face her. "We both know that guy out there has to be armed. Criminals don't exactly show up to places without some sort of weapon. Plus, the second he catches one of us, he'll pit us against each other. I've seen it before."

  Beth frowns. "What is that supposed to mean?"

  "Nothing," I say, twisting back to a box of junk under my desk. I shouldn't tell her about the techniques Zach and his team used to lure bank managers out from their secured offices.

  "Karen? Please don't ignore me. It doesn't take a genius to realize Zach was up to no good for him to be put away for life. I also know that he must have pulled you along for the ride in order for you to testify against him, so why can't you tell me more?"

  "I already told you that the less—"

  "Enough," she spits out. "I've been patient for too long. Not only that, I've risked my life staying here with you. Don't you think it's time you let me in on even just a slither of the truth?"

  I tilt my head to the side. The random piece of junk I hold in one hand falls back into the box I'm searching through. I shake my head, knowing she's somewhat right. Pushing myself from the floor, I pull out my cell and check the signal again, praying that my smartphone picks up a nearby tower so I can avoid telling Beth more. But no matter how desperate I am for the jammer to stop working, it's obvious that we're still cut off by the man lurking about our property.

  "Karen?" Beth reiterates.

  I let a sigh escape my parted lips as I face her. "Zach was a bank robber. I knew that about him when we first properly met. He didn't force me to be a part of his world; I let myself fall into it. I thought about going to the police to have him arrested many times, but I fell victim to his charm and allowed my brain to tell me we weren't doing anything wrong. Zach and his crew were ripping off large chain store banks that were richer than they deserved to be. Each outlet had insurance to cover what got stolen. No personnel in the banks were ever harmed. At least not until one night when things grew out of control." I glance up to Beth's horrified face. "I had no choice but to have him put away for life by testifying against him in court. I'll never forget that look in his eyes when he knew I had turned against him."

  Beth stares at me, her mouth half open and arms crossed. "No way. A bank robber? I didn't know people still did that."

  "It's not an easy career. I remember Zach always said he had to go for the big banks only. The smaller ones weren't worth the time. But the bigger the bank, the greater the risk. I swore I'd see him gunned down in the street on the news one day, but it never happened."

  Beth walks further into my room and takes a seat in a spare office chair I have tucked in the corner. Her arms remain crossed over her chest as she shakes her head. Without looking at me, she asks an obvious question. "Did you ever rob any of the banks?"

  "Not exactly. I was like a willing observer who waited in the car. Occasionally, I posed as a customer and whispered into a hidden radio to let them know if any of the staff were about to panic. Deep down I knew what we were doing was terrible and that I was just as bad as them. I chose to be part of his outfit until it was too late."


  Beth leans down. I already know what she will ask me next, but I wait to hear it. "What happened? What did he do to cause you to turn against him the way you did?"

  My eyes drop to the box of junk. I try to hold back the tears building up, but they fall from my face to the floor, each weighing a thousand pounds. "There's not much to tell you other than I deserve what's happening right now. But you sure as hell don't. I wish I could make that man out there understand and let you go."

  Beth doesn't say a word. She no longer presses me for more. I've stunned her into silence with my pathetic existence and the terrible things I'd become a part of. Her life is at risk because I allowed her to rent a room from me. What was I thinking?

  "What was his full name?" she asks me suddenly.

  "Why?" I ask, not looking up.

  "Maybe I've heard of him before. Like I said , maybe there's something about Zach I could use to stop this. I recognize it's a long shot, but—"

  "I can't say his full name. I swore I would never talk about my past, and I've already revealed too much." I squeeze my eyes closed and hit the side of my head with my palm. No matter how hard I hit though, it doesn't erase the pain.

  "It's just a name," Beth says. "Nothing else. Maybe it will do you good to say it."

  I stare up at her and say what I'm thinking. I can't help myself. "His name will never sound like anything other than poison."

  Chapter 19

  For the moment, we sit tight. The man in the suit hasn't made a move on us, and we haven't come up with anything worth doing in return. Beth stays close by in my room, sitting on my office chair while I finish turning the space upside down. I keep searching for a working Ethernet cable to distract myself from the painful things I revealed to Beth. I know I shouldn't have said a word to her about Zach, but I couldn't help myself. What must she think of me?

  I've been on my own for too long. Even when I had other renters in, I never spoke to them beyond what was necessary. We didn't get to know one another the way I have with Beth. She attempted to be friendly with me from day one despite me giving her nothing in return. She wore me down over a short time to the point where I was happy to see her arrive home. Now I've told her too much. I kept things business-as-usual with any tenants for a reason, but she found a path in, and I have to say, it felt good to let some of my cold past out even if I didn't reveal all. Not yet anyway.

  Beth has stopped asking for a solution to our impossible problem. Instead she sits on my office chair, spinning it around ninety degrees left and right. Her face remains blank and helpless. Has she given up? Surely not. We may be trapped in here, but we can't let the darkness in until we are truly screwed. There's still time to do something. It's not over.

  What are you afraid of? Beth's question now seems to hit home harder than it ever has before. And not only to me, but to her own self too. She is close to breaking point and we haven't yet begun to be challenged. I know Zach. There's more on the way. More hell to be paid. This petty man doesn't let go of his grudges so easily. Unfortunately, he also has a flair for the dramatic.

  "We have to get out of here," Beth mutters. "We have to."

  "I know," I say as I walk out of my room and through the hallway.

  A moment later, I reach the front window and slide the curtain across without care. The man is back in his old spot, now sitting inside his large SUV, staring straight at me. This man's glare is so intense it goes beyond professional. He seems determined to complete what Zach has paid him to do. How much did Zach pay him for that little extra? How much is my life worth? Will he get a bonus too for dealing with Beth? Or is she not important enough to bother with?

  "I'm serious," Beth calls out. "If we don't, he'll come for us. And that'll be it. We'll be forgotten about and fade away into nothing."

  I sense the desperation in her voice and head back to my room. She has possibly never considered that one day she will die. One day, her heart will no longer pump blood, her brain will fail to carry thoughts, and her lungs will stop drawing in air. She will cease to exist. I guess it's a lot for any of us to fathom.

  "Why do you say that?" I ask as I reach the doorway. "You're a student in her prime. I'm confident you have more friends than I've ever had in my entire existence. People would notice if something happened to you. You wouldn't be forgotten."

  "Maybe, but for every minute that passes I feel less and less convinced we'll get through this. What if I die before I've lived my life? I can't die this young."

  I move into the room and walk over to Beth. Her question runs through me like a hot knife through butter, making my hands tremor. I sit on my bed and try to control the weakness overpowering me. I have nothing to quell such questions.

  "How did he find you?" Beth asks. "Do you wonder what happened, like what led to him locating you?"

  I hadn't thought about that until now. More damning things have been clouding my mind. I lean away from her. Why would I dwell on something so pointless? Zach knows where we are. He's got us zeroed in and surrounded by one man. Knowing the path taken to smoke me out from hiding doesn't seem all that appealing, but maybe I should know. Maybe it will reveal a mistake made or show me an assumption Zach has come to from his prison cell. I could discover the bad link in his chain by seeing what he had to do to find me.

  "I'll need to think about it," I say to Beth, sinking back into my bed. My brain races over my strict boring routine and the few people I've interacted with during the last few months and beyond that could have led to Zach finding me. Nothing comes to mind.

  I'm always careful and methodical in my ways. All I can imagine is that Zach hired some elite private investigator to spend months and months going from one slim lead to the next until he found me. Either that, or someone in the witness protection program got paid just the right amount of money to allow Zach to find my location. I shudder at the thought if the latter is true, but Dustin would never do such a thing.

  I look to Beth. "I honestly can't tell you. I haven't noticed anything out of the ordinary. The only way I stay hidden is by keeping to a strict routine. All I can guess is maybe he got to someone high up enough in the US Marshal’s department to get my address."

  "Surely not," Beth replies, shock registering in her eyes. "Those people take their job seriously. I doubt a splash of fast cash could sway them."

  Beth's words set me at ease. I even smile a little. "That's good to know. I'd hate to think my contact would ever place me in harm’s way for a few dollars. So, do you know someone in the Marshals?"

  "No, but my brother is a police officer. He's older than me. I know how incorruptible he is. He would never use his position like that, so I have to figure a US Marshal would have an even higher standard."

  I continue to smile at Beth. "I guess you're right, and it's nice to see how much you trust your brother."

  Beth pauses for a moment. "I have to. He's family. We grew up together. I have to believe I understand him better than anyone else I know."

  I think about my brother. He passed ten years ago of a brain aneurysm. There he was at the peak of his young adult life at twenty-five, training to qualify for the Olympic swimming team when he one day collapsed into a heap by the pool. The doctors informed us he died before his head hit the ground. Of course, to make my witness relocation work, my parents had to be told I was dead. The world had to believe I was killed in a car accident so I could go into hiding.

  My poor parents think they have no children left. What would it be like to go through the hardship of raising two kids from birth to adulthood only to see them die at the peak of their lives? I shudder at the thought.

  Some days I sit on Dad's Facebook page, seeing what he and Mom are up to, hovering my mouse over the message button. Would they accept what I'd done if I told them the truth about all of this? It's a lot to swallow at once, even on a good day.

  "Are you hungry?" Beth asks.

  My head shifts up. "Not overly, but I should eat something, I guess."

  "Let's go ma
ke some sandwiches. Who knows how long this guy wants to keep us locked up in here like this."

  Chapter 20

  I don't offer any suggestions to Beth’s rhetorical question. Zach seems to be trying to amplify my anxiety as much as he can by keeping us trapped inside. How long do we have left before the final order comes through? At this stage, I almost want Zach to get it over with. Then again, if I survive alongside Beth, it will be the greatest thing in the world to know I got away from Zach because he took too long toying with me. I have to hold on to some hope.

  We walk out from my bedroom to the living area. Beth gets to work on the sandwiches in the kitchen while I lean on the edge of the sofa. She's made food for me before and seems to be quite capable of whipping up a wide variety of flavorful meals. It's refreshing to see someone her age with that kind of knowledge and ability. I've had a few tenants come through who survive on nothing but microwaved meals and DoorDash. The latter seems to be the beginning of a generation that won't ever be able to take care of itself. Instead, hard-working individuals looking to supplement their income will be forced to solve their problems for them.

  I choose a seat on the sofa and place my head back. It's early in the afternoon and I still don't grasp why Zach has done this during the day. Is it to prove that no time is safe, that he doesn't have to wait for the cover of darkness to strike? I close my eyes and try to quiet down my thoughts. I don't need the constant noise asking questions that cannot be answered.

  "Here you go," Beth says to my side.

  I open my eyelids and roll over to take what appears to be a perfect sandwich. "Thank you," I say, not knowing what's in it. At this point, I don't care and would eat two slices of bread with dirt between them.

  "I had some leftover turkey," Beth says. "I hope it's okay."

 

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