by Hunt, Jack
Lucas looked down at the radio.
Police radios worked even when cell towers didn’t.
Priority, reliability, disasters, talk-around and ruggedness were just a few of the reasons they continued to use them. It was why cops carried radios that cost thousands of dollars vs. a cheap cell phone. Using a dedicated network, they wouldn’t run into busy lines and in a disaster if a cell phone network collapsed, police and EMT would still have a reliable means of communication. Lucas sighed, and got in contact with dispatch. “Hey, Debbie, do me a favor. Place a call to Logan’s Bar, would you. Find out if Erin Miller or Kelly Danvers is there. If not, call Miller’s home. Keep it casual. Nothing to worry about. Work your female magic.”
It was things like this that they could get away with in a small town. There would be hell to pay if he did it in the big city. Something to do with tying up lines and whatnot.
“Will do,” she replied.
He sat there catching up on paperwork, looking up occasionally.
A few minutes later, Debbie got back to him.
“Lucas, the bartender hasn’t seen either one all night, and I phoned Miller’s place and spoke to her partner, Bryce. Says Erin was supposed to be staying at the lookout with Kelly tonight. The last time he spoke to her was early this evening on her way out there with Hank.”
“She left with Hank?”
“By the sounds of it, yeah. He gave her a ride.”
He remembered what Kelly’s brother had said when he asked about Hank. He caught a ride back to town in Erin’s vehicle. Said I could keep the Snowcat tonight just in case the weather got worse.
Why the discrepancy?
“All right, Debbie.”
“You need anything else?”
“No, I’m good.” He sat there for a moment pondering. He considered calling for backup but there was probably a good explanation. Kelly’s brother had said Erin had left in her own vehicle, and yet Bryce said she went with Hank. If that was the case, how did they get back? He could have had Debbie call back but he didn’t want to send Bryce into a panic. Also, Lucas wasn’t one for jumping the gun, especially when it came to Kelly who already had come across as a little unhinged. He looked out at the dismal weather. With the way the snow was coming down, it would take another officer a good hour to reach him, and pulling them away if everything was okay would only place an unnecessary strain on their limited resources. Still, something didn’t feel right. “Hey, Debbie,” he continued.
“Go ahead.”
“Any of the officers tied up right now?”
“Not at the moment.”
“Have a couple join me at the Danvers residence,” he replied before reeling off the address. With that in place he got out of his vehicle with the intention of going up and having a few more words with the brother.
15
The door exploded outward with one final kick.
Wielding the tongs like a baseball bat, Kelly exited ready for a fight, and with only one goal in mind — getting as far away from this place as possible. She expected him to pounce, to strike out of nowhere, as he must have seen or heard her repeating the same thing she’d done before — unlocking the door, using the tongs to push the Adirondack chair out of the way, then kicking until the stacks of wood dislodged.
But he wasn’t there.
When she stepped out, the perfectly covered deck didn’t even have prints.
Large snowflakes rushed down, heavy and thick, she breathed them in, each one melting on her tongue.
Beyond the trees, out of sight, Lucas knocked on the hatch door. “Mr. Danvers?” There was no answer. He pushed up the door expecting it to be locked but it flipped wide into darkness. “Mr. Danvers?” Where was he? With the floor at eye level he clicked on his flashlight before entering. The beam washed over the flooring and fell upon the bloody face of a stranger. His neck had multiple knife wounds. “What the hell…”
“You shouldn’t have come back,” a voice said off to his right.
Before he had a chance to shine the light on him, Lucas felt hot liquid hit his face. He screamed in agony, slipped and lost his grip on the ladder, falling to the second level of the lookout. He groaned in pain, writhing around as the heat from the liquid intensified, burning his skin. Lucas frantically slapped cold snow on his face but it did little to cool it.
Boots hit the floor nearby.
“Hot oil. Now that’s got to be painful.”
Lucas reached for his gun but before he could grasp it, his hand was smashed with something hard, shattering the bones instantly. He cried out as the man tutted. “Now now, officer, let’s not do that.”
Though the pain was beyond anything he’d felt, Lucas’ will to survive was far stronger. He twisted and kicked the man’s legs out from beneath him before scrambling to attack. Blinded by the oil in his eyes, Lucas tripped and went over the unprotected edge straight into the snow far below. Swallowed by white, buried in three feet of snow, he struggled to get up.
Every breath felt like he was sucking in water. Scrambling, trying to right himself, he felt like a tortoise stranded on its shell.
Then, something solid struck him in the back.
He cried in pain, only to feel it again seconds later.
“This is gonna be a very bad night for you, officer.”
It was a bloodcurdling cry cutting through the howling wind that made her turn back. Kelly squinted into the storm. She’d fled into the forest and maybe she would have got away if it wasn’t for the repeated cries. Was it him? Had cops come to help? Or was he inflicting even more pain on someone else she loved? Perhaps it was Adam. Alive. Maybe he didn’t die. Maybe he was fighting back. She glanced away, the thought of running was strong. But she couldn’t. She had to know if it was her brother. Turning back, Kelly hurried through the wall of white to see.
As she emerged from swirling ice crystals, Kelly saw Travis looming over a figure, pounding them from behind with a mallet. Wielding the tongs she came up from behind him, her approach masked by the wind and snow. She lashed out, striking him as hard as she could around the top of the head.
Travis buckled, going down and no longer moving.
There before her was Officer Hurst, unconscious, his head and back covered in blood.
“Kelly,” Travis groaned.
Her eyes bounced to him.
She hadn’t hit him hard enough.
He lunged at her and struck her in the leg, just to the right of her knee. Kelly screamed and hobbled to the lookout. Scrambling as fast as she could, she ascended the steps, casting a glance over her shoulder and watching as Travis waded through the snow toward the staircase, mallet still in hand. Fear shot through her as she hurried up, slipping and smashing her knee into a step on the way. Tears streaked her cheeks, freezing as they fell, hope leaving her body as quickly as heat.
“This is your fault, Kelly.”
His words could have been Cole’s.
So many times she’d heard him say the same thing. Twisting around situations, justifying his reasons for hurting her. How often had she let him get away with it? It was a crushing blow to her self-esteem.
She was limping, struggling to climb, and Travis was gaining on her.
Thoughts of what he would do if he got his hands around her neck pushed her on.
Keep moving. Don’t stop. Get up in that cabin.
She scrambled inside, her fingers clawing forward. She slipped on the oily floor as she tried to shut the hatch. Travis was nearly up, almost upon her when she slammed the door down in his face and pushed home the lock.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
He struck the hatch underneath with the mallet over and over again,
Each time her body shifted as she sat on top, panting hard and trying to catch her breath. “Open up. Kelly. Open up!”
“Go away. Please!” she cried out, begging, pleading for him to leave her be.
“I can’t. I won’t.”
As she sat there keeping her body weight flat
, her eyes surveyed the room. Adam? Beneath the bed, on the opposite side, his eyes stared back, empty and without life. Tears overflowed as she scrambled toward him, throwing herself on top, checking his pulse with two fingers.
His body was cold.
He was gone.
She clutched his clothes and screamed into his neck.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” she repeated over and over as if somehow she was to blame. Was she? Had she brought this upon herself? Travis seemed to think so. He knew her but she couldn’t remember him. It was like she was trapped in a nightmare, reliving every emotion she’d gone through with Cole but now dialed up to eleven in intensity.
The drum of banging continued as Travis tried unsuccessfully to bust his way inside. Sitting there with her dead brother she went into shock, her eyes staring at the door, waiting, expecting Travis to burst in and end her life. A sense of hopelessness, the same overriding emotions of being victimized, tortured her mind and stripped her of what little courage remained. Kelly looked at Adam and remembered the conversation she’d had the night when she was still in the hospital.
For the first few minutes she did nothing but sob.
After she’d drained her well of tears, Kelly listened to Adam build her up just as he had always done before when she was a kid. “Don’t you dare let him strip you of who you are. You are strong. You hear me? You are stronger than this. Stronger than anything he can do. You understand? It’s okay to cry. But then get up. God damn it, get up!”
Like a light switching on, Kelly stopped crying.
Numbness kicked in, ridding her body of what tears were left.
Even as the booming of the mallet reverberated, she wiped her cheeks with her forearm and began to think. How could she get out of this? She wasn’t dying here. She wasn’t becoming a victim to another lunatic. Not here. Not now!
That’s when the booming stopped.
She heard footsteps descending
Then it went eerily quiet.
She cocked her head.
Where have you gone?
Kelly looked up at the lightbulb. She crossed the room and smashed it above her, glass rained down. “You want to play games? Okay, you bastard. Let’s play,” she muttered.
16
Cloaked in darkness, Kelly waited for her moment to strike.
It was no longer a matter of if he would kill her, only when and how. In the nervous silence, a cold chill overshadowed her. She couldn’t hear him. No boots on the staircase. No voice. Just the sound of a howling wind. Where are you? Why me? Why now?
The questions bombarded, reminding her of every question she’d asked over the past three weeks. Lying in wait, ready to pounce, Kelly’s mind drifted to the past, to better days with Cole. What had been the catalyst to set him off? He hadn’t always been so possessive or violent. When she’d met him he was far from it. It wasn’t like stress was a factor. He loved his job, and working as an officer in Emery was laid back. It was easy work, he’d say. He’d always told her how his shift was often spent cruising around, or parked behind the convenience store doing paperwork. Most of the conflict he’d encountered was internal, red tape, office politics — the usual crap.
Boredom. Initially that’s what she notched it up to.
It wasn’t like it happened overnight.
Things escalated, little by little.
Harsh words instead of kind ones.
Belittling instead of encouragement.
Outbursts instead of holding his tongue.
He was bored with the job, of that she was sure but he didn’t want her to know that, he didn’t want to feel less than he claimed to be. So… when her writing career took off, it pained him to see her living the high life, getting calls from media and jet setting around the country. Attention. That’s what he’d craved. That was what he’d wanted. The acclaim. The praise. The thing that he thought police work would give him.
It hadn’t.
Sure, he was loved by some in the community but like he said, people didn’t see him, they saw the uniform, and what that represented.
That’s when the drinking started.
That was the tipping point.
No longer did hurtful words suffice.
Of course he was always apologetic after. Pleading, crying, trying to get her to understand that it was the drink, not him. There was always a reason. A bad day at work, jealousy, insecurities, the list went on. And he always promised to never do it again.
Like many others, she believed her partner.
She wanted to see the best in him.
She wanted to think that things could get better, that they could be better people.
She didn’t want to believe that her marriage would end in such a clichéd way.
Huddled in the corner, Kelly reflected on every chance she’d given him to turn things around but eventually she just stopped trying, stopped believing that he was capable of anything more.
She deserved better.
There was someone out there that would treat her with kindness.
Lost in her thoughts she barely noticed the sound, it was just one of many around her, mixed in with the wind. Her body shivered; fear, stress, cold, grief, all of it was beginning to take its toll on her.
There, a shadow emerged over the edge of the railing, a few feet from her.
Instead of coming through the hatch, he’d opted to climb up and over.
Oh, you’re determined.
Careful, ever so careful, his movement like a professional acrobat balancing on a beam, cautious that any sudden movement could topple him. Travis set himself down and peered through the frosted, fogged-up window. But it was too dark. There was no light inside. He had to enter.
The handle dropped so slow that not even metal could be heard sliding.
Then, Travis pulled the door hard. He opened it wide and burst in swinging the mallet, crashing it against anything that got in the way. “Kelly!”
Unseen, she moved, closing the gap between them.
She tightened her grip on the red fire extinguisher.
The pin had already been pulled.
“Kelly!”
He yelled again before turning her way.
As quick as a flash she exploded upward, squeezing the device that ejected a cloud of white powder in his face, caking his eyes, filling his mouth and causing him to gag and splutter. The entire enclosure filled with a plume of dry chemical.
Once it was emptied, Kelly wielded the metal tube like a bat, swinging it upward and connecting with his jaw. He exploded backward into the thick cloud, disappearing in a heap. She might have continued the assault if she could have seen where he landed.
Coughing hard, she dropped the extinguisher and dashed toward the hatch. As soon as it was unlocked, she climbed down, shutting it above her, locking it from underneath. If he wanted to get out now he would have to drop twenty-five feet into snow, or climb over the edge.
Frantically she hurried, her imagination and fear playing out the worst-case scenario. Her heart thumped in her chest and pulse raced as she dropped to the bottom and waded through thick snow to where Officer Hurst lay.
Rigor mortis had already begun to set in when she searched for a gun.
It was gone.
Shit.
Kelly rifled through his pockets and found a set of keys.
Yes. Yes!
A gun cracked above her; a bullet snapped past her cheek. She felt the wind inches from her skin. Not even looking up, she knew who it was.
The realization electrified her to the core.
Kelly rolled to her left, and scrambled up. Adrenaline kicked in, forcing her on, away from the bloody mess of Hurst’s pulverized remains. Several more bullets followed in rapid succession, one nicking her shoulder. Kelly cried out, feeling the unfamiliar but overwhelming sting of pain. She clung to her shoulder and pressed on, struggling to move from side to side to avoid another round but fortunately he didn’t fire again. The tornado of wind and snow must have hi
dden her.
The last thing she heard was him crying out her name.
Her legs plunged into the icy snow, soaking her clothes and skin. Without snowshoes every step was harder than the last. Run, run, she told herself, but it was almost impossible. It felt like she was wading in knee deep quicksand, every step butting up against an unmovable force.
Sweat trickled down the small of her back, her breathing labored, just a series of desperate gasps, giving her the feeling that she was drowning in the thinnest of air. She lifted her feet, high, leaping steps across the deep snow trying to avoid sinking. She had no idea if Travis could see her. She wouldn’t risk for even a second a look over her shoulder. Had he dropped, or found another way down? She wouldn’t be able to tell if he was following as the noise of the wind and the muffling powder beneath her made every step silent.
Kelly harnessed her adrenaline, swallowed fear and picked up the pace to get down to Hurst’s vehicle. It had to be there. She would call the department. Or had he already done that? The thought shot through her mind. Please. Please have called for backup.
Seeing the police SUV was so overwhelming, such a beautiful sight, that she almost cried in joy. Seconds from now, mere seconds and she would be inside, safe, away from him. Slipping and sliding on the compacted snow, she reached the door and pressed the key fob. It bleeped and she yanked it open. A thick layer of snow covered the windows making the inside even darker than the night. She got in, slammed the door and locked it. Her fingers were red and rigid from the cold. There wasn’t just one key on the chain but several, probably one for his personal vehicle, a locker at work and a home key. It was so hard to see in the dark. She stabbed the ignition with one key only to realize it was the wrong one, two more attempts before she found it. It slid in and she turned over the ignition. It coughed to life the first time.
Hope erupted.
She grabbed the microphone for the radio and attempted to reach dispatch while at the same time engaging the windshield wipers. They burst into action, sliding a heavy load of snow to the left to reveal Travis, twenty feet away, coming down the slope as fast as his legs would carry him.