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Tangled

Page 35

by Uc Amalu, Jr

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  Everything in his body was screaming that something was

  wrong. Danni had said that she would be at Bluey’s

  tonight, and according to Tadpole she had even asked for

  the night off. Jay slipped his cruiser into overdrive and

  pressed his foot down a little harder. The needle on the

  speedometer rose. With the phone clamped between his

  ear and his shoulder, dialling out, he made another turn

  and hit the accelerator again. The adrenalin was pumping

  through his veins and his heart was thudding against his

  chest.

  Answer the damn phone, Danni, ‛ he cried into his mobile.

  It rang out and the call ended. Jay slipped it back into

  his breast pocket and gripped the steering wheel with

  both hands. Thoughts of Kylie-Anne and Marla were

  running through his head. He envisioned their naked,

  ravaged bodies lying still on one of Augie’s metal

  gurneys. The visions frightened him almost to the point

  of madness. He made one last turn onto Cloverdale Street

  and slowed the cruiser to a snails pace. Jay rolled to a

  stop in front of Danni’s house, the lights were all off apart

  from a dull glow emulating from her bedroom window at

  the side of the house. He scanned the yard for signs of

  anything out of the ordinary, apart from the fact that the

  spare pavers she had sitting next to the steps were gone,

  all appeared to be as it should be. His hand pulled the

  phone from his pocket and he dialled her number again.

  He let it completely ring out before hitting the end button.

  His eyes kept a close watch on the glow in her bedroom

  window. It was still there. Maybe she had fallen asleep

  watching T.V in her bedroom, he didn’t even know if she

  had a television in there, but now wishes he did.

  It only took a few more seconds to make the decision to

  knock on her door. He figured it was far better to wake her

  and know she was alright, than to leave her and find out

  that she was not alright. Jay opened the cruiser door

  and stepped out onto the roadside. He turned and faced

  the house just in time to see the dim glow in Danni’s

  bedroom fade out completely. Alarm bells sounded in his

  head and tingles ran through him. Something was

  definitely not right, he could feel it. He reached back into

  the cruiser and hit the button on the glove box. It fell

  open and his gun lay inside. Jay grabbed it out, opened

  the chamber and checked the bullets. They were all

  loaded. With his gun in hand he wiggled back out of the

  cruiser and onto the road, leaving the driver’s side door

  open he made his way onto the footpath and into Danni’s

  yard.

  In the darkness, it was difficult to negotiate the unsteady

  pavers of the pathway beneath his feet. Once or twice he

  nearly stumbled and fell before he eventually managed to

  reach the steps. One step at a time he climbed up to the

  porch and stopped dead at the front door, his eyes

  peered through the tiny pane of bubble glass on the

  front. He could see nothing but darkness. His hands

  began to sweat around the body of the gun, he took turns

  at wiping each one on his jeans until they felt drier and

  sturdier around the weapon. With one ear pressed firmly

  up against the door, Jay listened intently for any sound

  but heard nothing but the chirping of summertime

  crickets and the wind howling through the camphor laurel

  tree around the side.

  His mind was fighting a battle of it’s own. Should he bang

  on the door and then look around or should he just look

  around? If he banged on the door it would wake Danni

  and she could let him in, no problems there. But if he

  went snooping around and peeking through windows he

  might frighten her and that could end up causing her to

  panic and do something rash. In her condition, he

  certainly didn’t want to frighten her, but he didn’t want to

  simply walk away and dismiss her absence as nothing

  either. He decided on the first option, bang on the door

  and see what happens.

  His fist thumped loudly against the timber of her front

  door, three times. There was still nothing, not so much as

  a stumbling sound of her tripping over anything in the

  darkness, fumbling for a light switch. Again his fist beat

  down hard on the door, he called out her name.

  “Danni, it’s Jay.” He listened and still heard nothing. “Are

  you in there? Are you okay?”

  Something was really off, his thumps on the door were

  enough to wake the dead and if she was in there, surely

  she would have woken and answered the door.

  “I’m coming in,” he yelled through the door. “Hold on,

  Danni.”

  Just as he was bracing himself to charge at her door, Jay

  heard a faint thump and then the sound of glass

  smashing. He peered through the bubble glass again and

  saw a dark figure moving toward the back of the house. It

  appeared to be slumped over or doubled up because it

  was too short to be Danni. She must be injured. Jay

  tightened his grip around his revolver and turned side on.

  He took a couple of steps back from the door and then

  pushed off his back foot and ran shoulder first, directly at

  it.

  Jay found himself laying face down on the hallway floor,

  splinters of timber and glass below him and all around

  him, the door barely hanging on the frame by it’s hinges.

  His revolver was lying on the floor in front of him, just

  inches away, his phone not far from it, smashed to pieces.

  Shaking his head, he rose up onto his hands and knees

  and began crawling like a baby in the direction of his gun.

  Within seconds he gripped the butt and wrapped his

  fingers around the trigger. A sharp, searing pain pierced

  his hand. He looked up and saw a foot crushing his hand

  back to the ground. His fingers spas-med under the

  pressure and he lost his grip on the gun. The foot then

  kicked the weapon away from him and moved behind

  him, coming to rest in the middle of his back and pinning

  him to the floor.

 

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