by Blake Croft
Ashley gave her a sideways glance. “He sounds like a memorable figure, which is why I’m shocked I don’t recall him.”
“Really?” Linda returned Ashley’s shocked gaze.
Ashley shrugged. “Really.”
Ashley’s phone rang sharp and clear. “Oh, thank God! The service back at that house was atrocious.”
“You were expecting a call?” Linda asked.
“Nope. But at least I’m getting them finally.”
She answered the call.
The road curved and disappeared around a thick expanse of wood. Ashley sped up as they came to the curve.
“Hello? Morning Dax,” Ashley smiled, her entire body language relaxing. Linda figured Dax was a girl Ashley had recently met. “I was going to call you after breakfast… hello? Hello! God damn it, not again!”
Linda was about to tell Ashley to pull over if she wanted to talk when she noticed a police cruiser behind them in the side mirror. Linda’s eyes widened, but her attention was caught by something more harrowing and immediate.
A small van came roaring towards them around the bend. Linda could see the man behind the wheel, his head drawing back stiffly in surprise, eyes wide and dark with fear.
“Ashley! Look out!” Linda screamed.
Ashley swerved just in time to avoid a collision.
The car screeched, the wheels slipped on the asphalt.
Ashley had lost control of the car and it went careering into the woods where it struck a tree head on. Linda was bolted forward, her hands outstretched to break her fall. Her skull hit the windshield, but didn’t break it. Her neck and shoulders were badly jarred from the collision.
“Ash?” Linda’s throat hurt. Her voice grazed against her throat like it was being dragged over gravel. “Ashley!”
“I’m okay.” Ashley’s voice was worse than hers. Linda searched her frantically for any signs of injury but Ashley looked fine. “What about you?”
“I’m fine,” Linda didn’t feel fine, but physically she felt unharmed.
Ashley groaned and stepped out of the car. Linda joined her. She felt her limbs, and ran a hand through her hair to make sure she wasn’t bleeding anywhere she couldn’t see. Her fingers came back slick with blood.
She looked up to see that the van was nowhere to be seen. The driver had hightailed it out of there. The police cruiser sped up as if to follow, but then swerved to the curb where it came to a stop. The siren barked twice before it went silent. The lights started whirling like a dervish.
The truck was a wreck. Steam was billowing out of the engine. The bumper had crumpled into a heap of twisted metal.
Ashley kicked a tire and cursed at the top of her lungs. “Great! That’s damage I can’t afford.”
Linda felt faint. The flash of red light, the opening doors and the police officers coming their way faded as old memories resurfaced of other officers, smartly dressed, telling her not to waste their time with her bullshit. The men in uniform testifying against her in court, their blank stares, their strong jaws clenched in hate and disapproval, narrowed eyes questioning, accusing…
Linda was far away, falling down the rabbit hole of her memories. She was back in the brownstone house, her back against the kitchen counter, her hands flailed to grab something, anything to loosen Jackson’s grip on her neck. His face was so close to hers, she could count the open pores on his cheeks and nose, and the small frown lines developing between his brow and the varying shades of onyx in his dark hell-hole eyes.
Her hand struck something hard. It flitted away across the smooth marble surface Linda had polished the other day. Linda reached, her head spinning, stars bursting at the margins of her blurring vision.
One last lunge and she had it in her hand; the smooth, heavy handle of a knife. She slashed at Jackson’s face, not caring to hit him any place in particular, just wanting his bloody hands off of her.
He had jerked back, a spray of blood drenching her face. Blood ran down his cheek where the blade had sliced the flesh apart.
Jackson had stood in shock, staring down at his hands, in remorse Linda had hoped. Maybe he had finally come to his senses, but no. He had roared like a raging bull and charged. Linda had screamed in terror and thrust the knife forward.
It had sunk through his abdomen like a hot blade through butter. Blood had gushed over her hand, drenching it in warm iron-scented liquid. Jackson had stared at the hilt, his eyes disbelieving in Linda’s ability to harm him, still shining the smug dominance he had over her even though he had a knife inside him.
Rage unlike anything she had known had reared its head and she pulled the blade back, the wound making a wet sucking noise and she had stabbed him again, and again…
“Linda? You’re bleeding,” Ashley touched her arm, jerking her out of her reverie. “We should get you to a hospital.”
She stumbled back, wrenching her arm out of Ashley’s hand. The acrid smell of petrol and burning rubber assaulted her nose.
“Lin?” Ashley was pale, all color had drained out of her face leaving her usually pink lips white. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Linda shook her head. She felt disoriented.
Sirens wailed a little way off. Light filtered grainy yellow beneath the tree they had struck, heightening how surreal the whole situation was for Linda.
A police car came to a sudden stop near the shoulder of the road. Ashley glared at them. Linda wanted to lie down.
She sat on the grass, head resting on knees trying to blot out the nausea and dizziness.
“Hey, Miss?”
The voice was appeasing. Through the gap in her knees, Linda saw navy blue pants kneeling down in front of her. The shoes were highly polished. The man held his own hands, resting his elbows on his thighs. The nails were neatly trimmed.
“Your sister says you were injured in the wreck.” His calm, soothing tones helped alleviate her anxiety a little. “It’s a good thing we were patrolling the area. Can I have a look? I have a first aid kit in the patrol car.”
Linda lifted her head slowly and blinked.
He looked younger than she had expected. His face was oval topped by reddish brown hair. His eyes were clear blue and squinted at her in curiosity. His skin was pale and delicate, the kind that flushed readily and was prone to sunburns. His mouth was his most arresting feature after his frank eyes, small but full and surprisingly pink.
A small tag on his police uniform read S. Wilson.
“Doesn’t look too bad,” he said. “Can you walk?”
Linda nodded. Pain throbbed in her temples.
She got up with some difficulty. Officer Wilson held her arm to steady her. He smelled of peppermint. He walked her past Ashley who was explaining what had happened to another officer.
Officer Wilson sat her down on the shoulder of the road next to the patrol car, then left to rummage in the back of the vehicle. Linda’s head felt like it was stuffed with cotton.
“Here we are.” Officer Wilson sat on his haunches in front of her. Linda could see his biceps flexing under his sleeves. He removed an alcohol swab from its package and lifted up her hair on one side of her head. “Do you mind removing your glasses?”
Linda did as she was told.
“It’s a miracle you didn’t fly through the windshield,” Officer Wilson said. The pads of his fingers were rough but he used them gently as he coaxed her hair back and found the wound. “Ah,” he exclaimed finally. “It looks shallow but we’ll soon find out.”
Linda hissed. Stinging pain bloomed across her forehead.
“Oops, sorry.” Officer Wilson leaned back. “Should have warned you it would sting.”
“No, I didn’t get a look at his license plate. I was too busy trying not to die.” Ashley’s sarcastic remarks reached through Linda’s deafening haze.
“You two are new around here, right?”
He seemed nice and was friendly, but Linda found his uniform triggering her worst instincts.
“You don�
�t talk much,” he observed, his clear blue eyes quizzical.
Ashley’s conversation must have come to an end because suddenly she was by her side. “Is it bad, Lin? Do you need to go to the hospital?”
“I’ve had worse,” Linda croaked. Tears stung her eyes, but she made an effort not to cry. She stuck her glasses back on her nose to hide her eyes better.
“Oh, honey.” Ashley hugged her. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.” Linda gave a watery smile.
Ashley didn’t smile back. Her face was a stiff mask of worry.
“I’ve called the local mechanic, Earl.” The other officer was much older, with a greying handlebar mustache dominating his face. His nametag read M. Carter. “He should be here soon with the tow truck.”
“Thanks,” Ashley said. “Is there any way we can get my sister home? She looks dead on her feet.”
“Scott can drop her in the patrol car,” Officer Carter offered. “I’ll wait with you for the tow truck. Make sure you’re well taken care of. Earl tends to cheat the new comers.”
Linda wasn’t listening. All she knew was that she didn’t want to go anywhere alone with a police officer. She hardly knew him, and she didn’t trust him.
“Ashley.” She clawed at her sister’s hand. “Please, I can’t.”
Ashley sighed. “Please, Lin. I need to know you’re home safe before I can go and get this fixed. Otherwise I’ll worry.”
Ashley’s smile was strained. Linda could tell how shaken she was. She didn’t argue. She let herself be led to the patrol car and sat in the back. Her heart was racing a mile a minute but she was helpless, like a drowning man fighting against the tide.
Chapter 6
Officer Wilson kept glancing back at her through the rearview mirror.
She wished he would stop. It was grating on her already raw nerves. His uniform made her skin crawl.
“So you’re staying at the Blackburn place?” he asked.
Linda closed her eyes, and rested them against the window pretending to be asleep.
Intermittent sunlight pulsed red behind her closed eyelids like the strobe lights of some insane disco.
She had a strong urge to jump out of the moving vehicle and run into the woods. The car swerved around a turn. Linda had no sense of its direction. He could be driving her to a clearing in the woods for all she knew.
Her eyes flew open.
She saw the house looming up ahead.
One of the knots in her stomach unclenched. The cat lady sat on her porch opposite.
The cruiser came to a smooth halt outside. Linda tried the door but it was locked. Officer Wilson stepped out and opened it for her. “Sorry.” His grin was sheepish. “Police procedure.”
Linda shot out of the car so fast her head whirled.
“Whoa.” Officer Wilson steadied her. “Careful.”
“I’m fine, thank you,” Linda could only manage a whisper.
“This neighborhood’s going to the dogs!” The shrill cry came from across the road. The cat lady sat stroking a tabby in her lap. Her jowls quivered. “The Blackburns were a decent family, but now we have criminals living in respectable homes.”
“Now, Mrs. Grady,” Officer Wilson said. “It’s too early in the morning for talk like that. Why don’t you step inside where it’s cooler?” He shrugged apologetically and guided Linda up the porch stairs. “Grady’s old and crabby, but in the past she was one of the best history teachers in the district. Used to bring maps of the area and tell us about the mines under those hills.” He pointed towards the hills that crested along the road.
Linda stood on the front porch fumbling for her keys. Stewart had handed them to her the day before, and she’d stowed them in her purse. Her hands shook badly and things slipped out of her fingers. The bag fell on the porch with a crash vomiting its contents everywhere.
She bent down on all fours trying to scrabble things back in her bag. Officer Wilson helped. He retrieved the keys from where they had landed near Stewart’s welcome mat and unlocked the front door.
Linda rushed inside.
Officer Wilson stood in the doorframe. He looked unsure.
“Do you want me to stay with you?”
“No!” It came out louder than she had intended. “No, thank you. I’m fine.”
“Is there anyone else in the house who can sit with you until your sister gets back? I mean I know the wound isn’t very serious but…”
“You’ll only make it worse,” she blurted edging close to the kitchen, as far away from him as possible.
That gave him pause. His face stilled, his frank eyes appraised her. Linda felt like she was under a microscope and the man before her could peel off layers of her skin to observe things that sloshed inside.
“Okay.” He scratched his forehead. “Please lock the door behind you.”
He moved away slightly, turned back and faced her again as if about to say something, then thought better of it. He raised a hand in goodbye and left. Linda didn’t go any closer to the door but she heard his heavy boots scuffling down the porch steps.
She waited till the engine started again before she ran to the front door and slammed it shut, locking it with a decisive click. Her head spun and her eyes grew heavy. She went into the living room, closed the curtains, and sat down on the sofa to wait for Ashley’s return.
Water dripped somewhere in the dark. Linda shivered.
She was standing by the edge of the water. Shards of ice floated on its dark still surface.
She blinked a few times, but the light was too gloomy to make any sense of where she was. Water splashed up against her feet. Her ears thrummed with the sound of water dripping in a cavernous space.
Behind her there was upturned earth, ahead of her water. She stood where she was, cold and shivering.
Then the song began; a melodious lament that was at once fascinating and terrifying. Linda moved around in the gloom, trying to find the source of the noise, but all she saw were sheer rock walls and a hard slab of rock ceiling. Panic clapped its insane hands on her mind and she began to hyperventilate.
A shrieking bell cut through the song. The ground beneath her began to buck and shake. Losing its firm shape, it disintegrated into soft sand that sucked her toes, ankles, legs and thighs, pulling her in.
Linda screamed and struggled, but her torso, then her neck, went inside the maw of devouring earth. Dirt was in her mouth, her nose. She blinked the flecks out her eyes, screaming for help but she was completely devoured.
Her lungs were on fire. She couldn’t breathe!
The shrill bell continued.
Her thrashing feet finally found solid ground.
Linda gave a mighty push with her legs. She broke the surface and opened her eyes.
She was lying on the sofa in the living room. Her neck ached and her body was drenched in cold sweat. The telephone was ringing by her side.
Disoriented and a little groggy, Linda stared at the phone not sure what to do with it, her mind still stuck in the nasty dream. By the time she decided to pick it up, the call had gone to the answering machine.
At that moment, she was distracted by the sound of tires crunching on gravel. She rushed to the front window to see if Ashley had come home.
It was Stewart. He parked in his usual spot and got out with a briefcase in one hand. Linda stepped back into the shadows so he wouldn’t see her. The accident had jolted any desire to be sociable out of her system. She wished Ashley would hurry up.
The answering machine blinked red. She realized she hadn’t heard the message and played it.
The machine clicked.
Wind whistled, stuttering against a microphone so there was feedback and a low thumping. Linda’s back muscles knotted at the sound, like a spring being wound tight. A low gurgling took over the whipping wind like the sound of someone speaking under water.
Images of shards of ice on a cold black lake rose in her mind’s eye, and she shuddered. She shut the machi
ne off and considered deleting the message when keys jingled in the lock and Marisa came in.
She was dressed in an expensive suit that hugged her figure in all the right places, and her red curls were tied back in a fashionable bun. But for all her style and grooming, the dark circles under her eyes looked like two purple bruises.
“Oh, great.” Marisa dropped her satchel bag on the sofa. “You’re home. Do you mind if I take a small rest before we start? I didn’t get much sleep last night.”
Linda glanced at the carriage clock on top of the TV. It was a little after two in the afternoon. How long had she been asleep? And why hadn’t Ashley come home yet?
She got up off the sofa and moved past Marisa to look out the window.
The sun was suspended high in the sky.
Marisa sat down heavily on the sofa and looked at Linda through tired eyes. There were bags under her eyes and she looked like she could fall asleep on her feet given half the chance. “You got hurt?” she pointed at the bandage on Linda’s head. “Was it one of the garden tools?”
“Ashley’s truck crashed against a tree.” Linda turned to face her and rubbed her arm. She was very cold. “She’s at the garage getting it fixed.”
“Oh, no,” Marisa blinked a few times, her face blank. “That must have been hard on you. Do you want to talk about it? I can rest later.” She sat forward with great effort.
Linda shrugged. “I’ve never done this before.” She had thought she was ready to lay everything out in front of a stranger and get help but now that the moment was upon her she was tongue-tied and didn’t know where to start. Each memory was an embarrassment, each action shameful. It had been different in the support group. Everyone could relate to what she had gone through.
“That’s alright,” Marisa didn’t smile but her tone was soothing. She was slightly detached from the conversation like she wasn’t an active player in it. That disconcerted Linda even more. “We can take it as slow as you like. The objective is to help you. Maybe we can start with something innocuous. Tell me about the accident. What happened?”