Two Footsteps

by Belle Brooks

  Morgan

  I thought for sure the Wolf would be waiting for me when I finally managed to climb back out of his cave. He wasn’t. But at least he left a tattered rope for me to pull myself out with. It felt like forever before I managed to emerge. Slip, after slip. Fall, after fall. I was far from strong enough to clamber out the first time, or the second, or even the fifth time.

  I hate him. I hate this monster for doing this to me. I hate my husband for cheating on me. I hate that I saw the photo of Linda and Reid. The more I’ve walked, the more I see the Wolf’s eyes in my mind. How blue they are. How perfect they are. Reid has eyes like that. Reid cheated on me and the proof was in that photo. Reid can also shoot a bow and arrow and he knows his way around a bullwhip. He grew up on a property. Plus, Reid’s been acting strangely. Why am I thinking it is him whose responsible for this game I’m playing? I have to pay for what I’ve done. That’s what the Wolf said.

  Maybe Reid found out about my addiction, all the prescription meds I’ve been hiding and popping every moment I get. What started as tablets to help me sleep has turned into a cocktail of anything I can get my hands on. A pinched nerve from working out at the gym supplied me pain meds. The cut I got on my hand after I slipped with the kitchen knife meant a prescription for stronger pain meds, and now I find myself jumping from doctor to doctor, telling any convincing story I can, to get more prescription drugs. Stronger ones. Better ones.

  Two weeks ago, I hit the worst of all. A work function in the city had me smoking crystal meth in the bathroom of the conference hall with my colleague, Brett. Crystal fucking meth. The soccer mums’ drug. Who am I? How did I get here? These thoughts whirl in my head as I drag my feet and walk in circles, because that’s what it seems I’m doing, walking in circles, it also feels like I’m serving my punishment. I’m being punished for my dishonesty. I’ll never take another pill again. I swear, just give me the freedom to prove it.

  It’s hot, even though the blazing heat of the sun has become less harsh as the afternoon draws out. Birds are chirping high in the trees above me, and here I stand, dying of thirst, burnt and telling myself to keep moving. I do, walking aimlessly in the hope of finding any way out of here. Sometimes I find a spark of energy and I manage to run until I think I hear a noise, or the hairs on the back of my neck spring to attention, then I find any refuge I can and hide. I crouch low and stay as still as possible, whilst I try to breathe through the crippling fear I endure. I scream for help every time I find enough courage to yell loud enough to be heard, and at the same time I prepare for the Wolf to hear my cries and come silence me. He hasn’t come. Help hasn’t come. Nobody comes. Everything I see looks the same — rocks, trees, bushes, paths, vines, overgrowth. I’m starving and my stomach rumbles loud enough to spook me. At first, I don’t even recognise the sound is coming from me.

  I’m beyond thirsty, but the canister is getting low. I’ve already helped myself to most of the water, and it didn’t quench my thirst; it actually made me thirstier. I’m in so much pain at this point I think about shouting for the Wolf to come and kill me, but then I see my children’s faces, and my Mum and Dad … I want to live. I want to live for them. So, I run until I can’t, and then I walk until I’m frightened and hiding. It’s a vicious cycle.

  I start replaying all my thoughts. I curse the Wolf. I think about his eyes. I think it’s Reid. But I always revert to his voice — his voice is different, yet I’ve heard it before — How can that be if it’s my husband? I go through my prescription drug addiction and how this might be tied to the reason for my abduction. I think of Brett, my co-worker, but his eyes are much lighter blue, and for the life of me, right now, I can’t remember what his voice sounds like. I see the picture of Reid and Linda and feel anger mixed with sadness. He cheated on me and Linda cheated on me, too. She’s my best friend and best friends don’t do that. Is the Wolf my husband? Or is my husband only responsible for the Wolf taking me? Is my lie what I did wrong? Is this what he means by I’m the same as him? He lied, I lied, we all fucking lied. Or is it the fact Reid’s been acting like an arsehole and I’ve been so busy with work, the kids, and my drug habit I haven’t noticed he’s been out killing woman who have wronged him in some way. Shit. Is he a serial killer?

  I’m deep in thought wandering through more overgrowth trying to piece this puzzle together, to work out the answer to this sick game. I’m thinking about the times The Wolf has stood before me, on those rocks when the rain beat down hard upon me and I was freed from the car, today with the bow and arrow, dressed in black. Is he taller or shorter than Reid? Is his build smaller, larger or the same as my husband’s?

  A sudden ripping of my flesh has me screaming so loud, I taste blood at the back of my throat. My face hits the dirt, and it fills my mouth. My legs sting as if they’ve been sliced open and I spit dirt whilst I pant. “Let me go! Fucking let me go.”

  Reid

  “Reid, we’ve just received some very interesting information that we want answers to.” I try hard to swallow the lump that has formed suddenly in my throat. It’s not budging. It becomes even more restricting when I search West’s expression to find his eyes cold and his lips pursed.

  “I’ll help however I can,” I reply in a voice that rattles with uncertainty due to this sudden change in West’s demeanour. I shift nervously on my feet. They’ve obviously figured out about the night I had with Linda, the one leading to a make-out session that’s had me shaken ever since.

  “Reid, can you explain to us why you organised and then removed fifty thousand dollars from your joint account with Morgan, the day prior to her going missing?”

  My heart races. Fuck. How am I going to explain this? I need to fess up and tell the truth. It’s now or never. My eyes grow wide, and I twist my head towards Linda searching for any type of reaction … she looks furious, her scrunched face says more than any words she could say. I shift my attention back to West to find his eyebrows are crossed and he’s waiting for some sort of explanation that will put me in the clear. I’m not even sure what to confess, or even where to start in delivering my confession. I shake my head. “Fuck!”

  “Can you tell me why you withdrew the money.” West is still waiting. His arms are crossed over his chest. His head is tilted slightly.

  I take a deep breath. “I withdrew it because I was suspicious that Morgan, might be planning on leaving me. I didn’t want her to drain the bank account and take it all. I also …” I can’t say it. I need to, but I can’t.

  “Go on.”

  “I did something I’m not proud of.”

  “It’s in your best interest to tell me the truth here Reid, because this is not looking favourable for you.”

  “I know.” I lower my head and stare at the shag carpeting. Now or never. “I thought Morgan might have learnt about what I did. I … I kissed someone … It was Linda, on a business trip recently, a couple of months ago.” I pause, waiting for something. A gasp. A groan, something, but there’s nothing.

  “I see.”

  “Morgan was acting strange after I returned. I gathered she found out what took place. Things have been getting worse between us, so I took most of our savings to keep it safe. Women get angry and want revenge about shit like this. Morgan might have been planning to end our marriage.” I hear myself and want to instantly punch myself in the head. I’m so broken, stupid, and exhausted. I wish I could close my eyes and open them again and this will be over. My heart aches. How the fuck could I screw up my marriage like this?

  “Linda?” West says.

  I look to her for confirmation.

  “I kissed him, yes. We never slept together. I didn’t tell Morgan. We, Reid and I, decided it was an irresponsible mistake, although harmless, and it’s one that should never be spoken of. I don’t think Morgan knows like Reid suspects. I’m pretty sure she has no clue about our mistake at all.”

  I sigh.

  “But I thought you said your marriage was fine, Reid? This is obviously n
ot the truth, then is it?” West says.

  My fists clench and my jaw tenses. I’m an idiot. I’m the biggest idiot to walk the earth. “The money is here. I didn’t use it to do what all you think I did. It’s in the safe in the office.”

  “Where’s the office, again?” West speaks calmly.

  “This level, down the corridor past the kitchen. It’s the last door on the right, and the safe is inside the cupboard.”

  “It’s best you take us to the safe now, Mr Banks.”

  Shit! We’re back to Mr Banks again.

  I’m escorted not only by West, but Gleaton, Maloney and one of the two other officers. The tall lanky one stays behind in the loungeroom with Linda, even though nobody said a word about him doing so. We walk in a conga line down the hallway and when I stop at the office door I know I’m going to be fine, and in the clear, because they’ll see the money is there and know I’m finally giving them the whole truth. My hand hovers over the door handle and even though I’m hesitating, I feel letting this skeleton out of the closet will finally end some of the guilt I’ve been carrying. Secrets make people do stupid shit and this entire situation with Linda has had me making stupid decisions and doing stupid shit.

  We enter. I slide open the cupboard door that’s positioned directly across from my desk. It’s a moderately sized, metal safe and I’m now looking directly at it.

  “We saw this on search of the lower level, sir. We have listed it on our form,” Maloney says.

  “Good,” West replies.

  I say nothing. With a tensed finger, I punch in the combination, 3.6.5.9.2.1 … the latch opens. Crouching down, I outstretch my hand and move to retrieve the sports bag of money from the floor of the safe where I left it. My hand runs across the bottom of the metal. Panic sets in as I fail to locate the bag.

  “It’s not there,” I choke out. “It’s gone.” The shock radiating through my limbs has my legs growing weak and my arms following suit.

  A generic ring tone plays from the pocket of my sweat pants.

  I rise slowly from the floor.

  “Where is the money, Reid?” West, says. Displeased would be an understatement as to how he looks at me when I come to face him. I’d say, he’s about ready to haul my arse down to the cop shop and lock me up for life.

  I retrieve my phone taking a moment to glance at the screen. Morgan’s dad is calling. Morgan must have found the money and hid it somewhere. That has to be it. There’s no other logical explanation.

  “Reid.” Gleaton’s tone is clipped.

  “I have to take this,” I say, softly.

  “What could be so important?” Maloney is calm, yet there’s a subtle strain to his words.

  “It’s Morgan’s Dad, Ronald. I need to take this call.” I’m dazed, confused and downright furious. Why did Morgan take the money?

  “Answer it,” West orders.

  I go to leave the room.

  “You can answer it here.”

  “Hello,” I say.

  “Put the call on speaker,” West instructs.

  I immediately switch the speaker on. “Hey Ron.”

  “Reid, we’re delayed. There’s been an accident on the highway. A cattle truck has rolled over. It looks like a pretty nasty accident from where we’re sitting. For now, we’re stuck waiting. You know what these country highways are like when a truck overturns?”

  “Yeah, I do.” I scan the room to find eight sets of eyes all focused on me. “Are you two okay though?”

  “Yes, we’re fine. Now is there any news on Morgan, yet? Have you heard from her? Do you know anything more?” His tone is a mix of despair and worry.

  “No, we haven’t. Not yet. Linda’s here now though.”

  “Oh, that’s good news. Has she heard from Morgan? Does she know what’s wrong? Why Morgan hasn’t come home?”

  “No sir, she doesn’t.”

  “Okay. Can you please ring me if you learn anything or have an update?”

  “I will.”

  “Her mother is beside herself right now and quite frankly I’m worried. I wish we didn’t live so far away.”

  “I know. Me too.”

  “I’ll talk to you soon, Reid.”

  “Okay.”

  “I’ll let you know when we’re moving again.” He sighs.

  “Drive safe, and I’ll see you soon.”

  “We are. Ring if there is any news.”

  “I will.”

  “Bye.”

  “Bye.”

  The call disconnects.

  The majority of the afternoon is spent being interrogated by the two detectives who no doubt believe I’m their prime suspect. I was allowed to call one person after I spoke with Morgan’s dad and that person was my father. He’s currently contacting a lawyer and he’s pissed as hell at me after I explain everything that’s transpired since we last talked. My dad is going to kick my arse when he gets here and I’m going to deserve his boot planted fair up my arse too.

  “I don’t know where the money is. Morgan knows the code to the safe. She doesn’t go in there as far as I know.” I pause. “Look, I’m the only one who uses it. I’ve already told you this.”

  “So why would ––” I cut West off.

  “I don’t know. All I do know is, Morgan has the code and she could have taken the money out. I can’t tell you anything else. I’ve been telling you this for ages now.”

  “Where’s the money?” West isn’t letting up.

  “I’m telling you the truth. It was in there. I don’t have the foggiest idea where it is now.”

  Another hail of the identical questions gets hurled my way by Detective West, and soon Gleaton takes his turn of asking them all over again.

  “What else can I say? I’ve told you everything. It’s all I know.” I feel like a hole has been dug so deep, I’m about to be buried in a very unpleasant way. Twenty-five to life, throw away the key is what my future holds and our children’s lives are about to be so royally fucked up, that breathing becomes an almost impossible task.

  “I’m going to ask you one more time, where is the money?” West says.

  “Where are you Morgan?” I say under my breath, sitting at the very table I sat at last night, awaiting her arrival home.

  “Reid, let’s go over this again.” Gleaton is like a hungry shark who’s only mission is to fire questions at me until he penetrates the protective cage I’m trying to find security in.

  I drop my head to the table and fold my arms over the back of my head. Why keep asking me these fucking questions? The answers aren’t going to change.

  Ring. Ring. Ring.

  It’s the home phone.

  My balls instantly launch into my throat and my heart sprints. It has to be him.

  “Go. Wait for me to pick up the other line.” West is out of his chair as fast as I am.

  I nod.

  I’m staring at the phone which is gripped in my hand. I’m waiting for West to give the go ahead or a sign to indicate I need to pick up the line. I can see the time on the screen, 5:28 p.m. He hasn’t rung again all day. This must be him.

  “Go,” West mouths with his hand cupped over the speaker and his finger poised over the accept button.

  “Hello. Reid speaking.”

  “Reid, can you do me a favour please?” The accent is British.

  Who is this? I narrow my eyebrows and look at West who mouths, “Say nothing.”

  I don’t.

  “Could you say hello to Detective Astin West for me. Go on.”

  West again mouths, “Say nothing.”

  The line goes dead.

  Morgan

  Both my shins have sustained deep lacerations. A trip wire placed between two trees inflicted these injuries that are stinging fiercely and bleeding profusely. I swear I can see my bone amongst the tattered flesh, but I’m not sure. I was too caught up in my thoughts to watch where I was going. I need to be more aware of my surroundings. I need to be smarter. He said I wasn’t smart enough to win h
is game, but I believe I am. I need to outsmart the Wolf.

  The sight of the injury gives me the urge to vomit through my clenched teeth every time I turn my eyes towards it. Slowly swinging the backpack to my front, I groan in agony. My hands are shaking, as is the rest of my body, and I’m dripping in sweat. The zip slips out of my pinched grip and again, I groan. I just want to lie down and close my eyes. I don’t have anything left in the tank. I’m beyond exhausted and my sight is becoming blurry with every blink of my lashes, but I can’t give up, so again I try pulling back the zip. This time I have it opened wide enough to retrieve the canister.

  Pouring the last drops of water over my open wounds hurts like hell, and I growl through my teeth as the blood mixed with water runs across my feet.

  Lord, help me.

  The bandage from the backpack, the one he left for me, the one he knew I was going to need is now in my hand. He knew I wouldn’t see the trip wire. He knows everything that’s going to happen before it even does, and he told me he’d always be one step in front of me. He didn’t lie, he is.

  One bandage, two open wounds. I must find a way to cut the material, but how?

  I leave the backpack on the ground with the empty canister and use my arms to pull my body across mouldy leaves and dry dirt. I search for anything sharp to cut the bandage into two halves, but so far there’s nothing. My vision is becoming worse and the nausea I’m experiencing is flipping my stomach so wildly that my will to give in and die is growing strong. For one moment, I contemplate death being the only option I have left. Maybe I should end this game here and now because I can’t even walk. Something buried deep down in the pit of my soul keeps me fighting, and I reach out my forearm, press it hard against the ground, and scream my agony as I drag my body a little bit farther from where it was.

  A fallen branch catches the corner of my eye. It’s not clear to see from this distance, but I believe I can discern a protruding branch poking upwards. Lying on my side I begin to roll my body as if it was being unravelled from heavy carpeting. It hurts like hell, but I’m making ground faster.