Terror by Night

by Caffey, Terry,Pence, James H.

  “You think that’s funny?” I asked, laughing.

  I clambered to my feet, grabbed a pillow from the sofa, and hurled it at Matthew. He and Tyler quickly returned fire with pillows of their own, and soon we were in a full-blown pillow fight. But it didn’t end there.

  When I ran out of ammunition, I tackled Matthew and began to wrestle with him. Tyler jumped on top of me and tried to help his brother. Soon Erin joined in as we rolled around on the floor, laughing and squealing.

  Eventually we all ran out of energy, and the party wound down.

  I finished cleaning up the floor, then went and kissed each of the kids in turn.

  “I love you,” I said to each one.

  As I turned to go to the bedroom, Matthew asked, “Can we stay up and finish watching the movie?”

  “Okay,” I said, “but keep the noise down. I’ve got an early day tomorrow. And don’t stay up too late.”

  “We won’t,” they said.

  I climbed into bed beside Penny. It was a good feeling, and I was more than ready to go to sleep. But Penny wanted to talk. She had questions about the job opportunity.

  “So do you think you’ll get the job?”

  “He said it was mine if I wanted it,” I replied.

  “Do you?” she asked.

  I nodded. “Uh-huh.”

  “Is the salary better?”

  “Definitely.”

  “So what would you be doing?” she pressed.

  I looked over at her. “Sweetheart, I’m really tired. Do you mind if we talk about it tomorrow? I promise, I’ll tell you everything you want to know tomorrow.”

  Penny smiled her sweet smile. “Okay, Daddy. Good night.”

  “I love you,” I said.

  “I love you, too.”

  I leaned over and kissed her, then turned over and went to sleep.

  The sound of a dog barking broke into my dreams. I blinked my eyes open and squinted at the digital clock beside my bed. It was 12:30 a.m.

  Not now, Max, I thought.

  Max, our black Lab, took his job seriously when it came to running off critters. As far out in the country as we lived, it wasn’t unusual for coyotes or even wild pigs to roam through our property. And Max was always on the job—especially at night. I appreciated his heart, but tonight his timing was terrible. The last thing I needed was to have a good night’s sleep disturbed. Some nights, I might have tried to quiet him, but I was too tired to bother.

  “Oh, Max,” I mumbled, “be quiet.”

  Max’s barking faded away as I drifted back into a deep sleep.

  Chapter 4

  Night Terrors

  When you pass through the waters, I will be with you;

  And through the rivers, they will not overflow you.

  When you walk through the fire, you will not be scorched,

  Nor will the flame burn you. —ISAIAH 43:2

  SOMETINE IN THE EARLY morning hours of Saturday, March 1, I awoke to the clang of our bedroom doorknob hitting the clothes dryer in the laundry room, just outside our bedroom. I thought maybe Tyler had had a bad dream and come downstairs to our bedroom. But before I could react, a series of deafening explosions filled the room.

  I heard Penny’s screams and opened my eyes.

  A man stood in our bedroom doorway, silhouetted by the kitchen night-light. He had a gun in his hand. Disoriented and confused, I thought it was a robbery.

  More gunfire erupted.

  Penny moaned. I sat up and threw out my right arm to protect her. A flash and another explosion followed, and instantly my wrist felt as if someone had hit it with a sledgehammer. Another explosion hammered my forearm. Searing pain tore through my upper arm, then my shoulder. A final shot slammed into my right cheek and blew me out of the bed. I landed facedown, wedged into the narrow space between the bed and the wall.

  Then the gunfire stopped.

  I lay still as I heard the man walk over to my side of the bed. He kicked my feet, apparently checking to see if I was still alive. I closed my eyes tight and tried not to move. Then I heard metallic clicks. He was reloading.

  In that instant, an amazing feeling of peace swept over me. I knew that when the killer finished reloading, he would shoot me in the back of the head and finish me off. I had no fear of dying. I knew that within a few seconds, I would be in God’s presence.

  I waited for the fatal shot. Lord, please take me quickly.

  I relaxed and lost consciousness.

  NO, CHARLIE! NO!

  I must have been out only a few minutes.

  When I awoke, the taste of blood and gunpowder filled my mouth. I tried to feel where I was wounded, but there wasn’t enough room for me to move. I couldn’t feel my right side, and my right arm wouldn’t move.

  Suddenly, the peace I’d felt moments ago vanished. I’m going to die right here, I thought. If he comes back in and sees me breathing, he’ll finish me off.

  I heard boots clomping on our hardwood floors—a sound that haunts me to this day. The intruder stomped back and forth in our living room, only a few feet away. I heard the crash of furniture being overturned and our possessions being smashed. A cacophony of notes came from Penny’s piano as if someone had slammed both fists down on the keys. Whoever was out there must have swept Penny’s knickknacks off the top of the piano and onto the keys.

  Who is it? Why is he doing this?

  Amid the sounds of crashing furniture I could hear muffled voices, and for the first time I realized that there was more than one intruder. I couldn’t understand what they were saying, but it was clear that there were at least two men in our house.

  Then I heard shouting.

  Matthew and Tyler were screaming and crying.

  More shouts, then heavy footsteps started up the stairs, and I instantly panicked. The intruders weren’t just after Penny and me; they were going to hurt the children, too.

  I couldn’t feel or move my right arm, so I tried to push myself up with my left. But my hand kept sliding in a thick pool of my own blood. Desperate to save my kids, I reached up and grabbed the bedsheets, trying to pull myself onto the mattress. At that instant I heard Matthew’s hysterical pleas.

  “Charlie, why are you doing this? No, Charlie! No!”

  Gunfire rang out again and silenced Matthew.

  At that instant I knew the identity of the intruder and why he was here. I realized that it was Charlie Wilkinson I had seen standing in our bedroom doorway and shooting at Penny and me.

  I collapsed and passed out again. My last thought was that we were all going to die.

  FIRE!

  I woke up coughing; then I felt the heat.

  I tried to look around, but I was blinded by smoke and the blood that had begun running into my eyes. I realized that Charlie and his companion had set the house on fire, but I was focused on trying to get up and help my family.

  I managed to push myself up onto the bed. I looked across the room and saw Penny highlighted by the red-orange glow of the flames. She lay slumped against the wall. One look, and I knew she was gone. There was no chance to save her. My next thought was of Erin and the boys.

  Two doors led out of our bedroom. One opened into the laundry room, which led to the bathroom and then the kitchen. The other— at the foot of our bed—gave access to the living room and the staircase up to the children’s bedrooms. I had to get to Erin and the boys. I tried to go through that door and get to the stairs, but a wall of flames pushed me back into the bedroom.

  Seconds later, flames covered the inside wall of our bedroom and stood between the only other door and me. I had to retreat to my side of the bed and climb over the bed to get to the other door. Maybe I could go through the kitchen to check on the kids.

  On the other side of the bed I stopped one last time to check on Penny. I’d lost a lot of blood, but it was nothing compared to her. I had never seen so much blood in my life, and I will never forget that sight. I would never have left her if there had been any chance of saving he
r, but there wasn’t. Penny was gone.

  Nevertheless, I wanted to try to bring her with me, and I suppose I would have, but I had been shot at least five times, and my right arm was useless. I couldn’t even drag Penny’s body out of the burning house.

  I moved toward the laundry-room door, struggling against blinding smoke and scorching heat. I felt as if I were inside an oven.

  On the other side of the laundry room I tried to turn left into the kitchen, but the flames drove me back into the little hallway. I knew then that I couldn’t get to the kids from inside the house.

  My only option was to try to find my way to the bathroom window. I felt as if I were drowning—drowning in smoke. I couldn’t catch my breath. I tried to cover my nose and mouth with my one good arm.

  It was a straight shot through our narrow bathroom to the window. If I could make it that far, I might be able to escape. When I got through the bathroom door, flames flowed up the wall on my left and curled over the ceiling, creating a tunnel of fire. Choking and blind, I felt my way forward through the blistering heat. My pajama pants and T-shirt felt red hot. If I didn’t get out soon, I was sure they would catch fire.

  I knew that the sink, toilet, and tub would all be on my right side, so I used my good arm to feel my way past the sink, past the toilet. But when I reached the shower curtain, I pushed too hard, lost my balance, and fell into the tub. Scrambling around in the bathtub, I panicked and lost track of where I was.

  Stay calm. If you panic, you’re dead.

  I relaxed and got to my feet as quickly as I could manage. I covered my face with my good arm and felt for the bathtub’s wall. When I found it, I followed it to my left and found the back corner. I knew the window was just to the left. I stood in the tub and felt along the wall until my fingers touched the window frame.

  I carefully stepped out of the tub and tried to push the window open.

  It wouldn’t budge.

  I pounded on it, hoping to break the glass, but I couldn’t break it.

  I knew I only had seconds left.

  Come on. Come on!

  I tried to unlock it, and as I fumbled with the latch, the window flew open. I punched the screen out of the window frame and stuck my head outside. For a few seconds, all I did was breathe the cool night air. I was like a drowning man whose head had just broken the surface of the water. I stayed where I was, gasping and clearing my lungs, but I knew I had to get the rest of the way out.

  Fortunately the window was low enough that I didn’t have to pull myself up. I squeezed my left arm and upper body through the frame and leaned out. Gravity took care of the rest. I toppled out of the window. It was about a five-foot drop to the ground outside the house, and the hard landing knocked the wind out of me. Oddly, I didn’t feel much pain, but blood still filled my eyes, making it difficult to see.

  Even though I was terrified and disoriented, I could think clearly enough to know that the killers might still be out there somewhere. I needed to find a hiding place quickly, where I could rest and collect myself.

  I moved toward the side of the house and took cover behind our large propane tank.

  Chapter 5

  Darkness

  You light my lamp;

  The LORD my God illumines my darkness.

  —PSALM I8:28

  I’VE GOT TO HELP the kids!

  I knew Penny was gone, but maybe there was still a chance of saving Tyler, Matthew, and Erin. I tried to make my way around to the front of the house, but as soon as I got there, I knew I couldn’t get to them. Flames roared out of the front windows and blocked the only access I could have had.

  Suddenly I realized that I was out in the open. I didn’t know if Charlie and the other killer were still hanging around, so I retreated to the security of the propane tank and tried to collect my thoughts.

  Only minutes ago, I had lain snuggled up to my wife, fast asleep. Now, dazed and confused—almost in a trance—I cowered behind a full propane tank, only ten feet from a raging inferno.

  I just need to wait, I thought. Someone will call the police. Help is coming. I just need to hold on.

  As I crouched behind the tank, beads of sweat began to form on my brow. Between the heat of the burning house and the hot metal tank nearby, I felt as if I were sitting next to a furnace. Then reality crashed in: This thing could blow!

  I had to find a safe place to wait for the authorities to arrive. So I turned and crawled on my belly toward the woods, just beyond a barbed-wire fence about fifty feet behind the house.

  I crept under the fence and felt a sharp sting on my back as it snagged on the barbed wire. I ignored the pain and kept crawling until I reached a log about fifteen feet farther on. By that time, I was exhausted and needed rest. I crawled over the log and then lay down across it, facing the house. Now all I could do was wait.

  Help will be here soon.

  I waited and waited, but no one came.

  I couldn’t believe it. My house was almost fully engulfed in flames, and the noise was earsplitting at times. Windows exploded, sending out showers of glass. Other small explosions penetrated the roar caused by the uprush of flames. Part of the structure collapsed with a long, loud crack, just like the sound of a tree falling.

  Surely somebody had heard that. Why hadn’t they called 911? Why weren’t the firefighters coming? After waiting a few more minutes, I realized that nobody was coming. If anybody was going to get help, it had to be me.

  Tommy and Helen were our closest neighbors, but their house was almost four hundred yards away. To get there, I’d have to navigate blindly through a maze of woods thick with cedars and tall, long- needle pines, not to mention fallen branches, overgrown weeds, thorns, and just about any other natural obstacle you could imagine.

  GOING FOR HELP

  I didn’t think about any of that. My only thought was that I needed to get help. On one level, I understood that my family was beyond help, but somehow I pushed those thoughts away. I felt that if I could just find someone to help us, everything would be all right.

  And so I began the four-hundred-yard trek toward Tommy and Helen’s. I learned later that it took me about an hour to cover a distance approximately the length of four football fields.

  I stumbled forward until my legs gave out. I rested a few minutes, then pushed myself up and crawled. This was actually more difficult than walking, because my right arm hung useless and my left arm had to bear the entire load. I pulled myself forward with my good arm and pushed with my legs. Thorns clawed at me, but I didn’t notice the pain. I was running on pure adrenaline.

  Every now and then I stopped and looked back to where my house was rapidly being overtaken by the flames.

  Shock, confusion, denial, despair, and hope all swirled in my head, but nothing made sense. Everything felt surreal, almost like a dream sequence in a movie. I felt as if I were walking in a fog. The only thing that made sense was finding help. I felt that if I could just get to Tommy and Helen’s, they would fix everything.

  The trauma had not only sent me into a mental fog; it had also dulled my other senses. Although it was only about forty degrees outside and I was wearing only a T-shirt and pajama pants, I didn’t feel the cold. I had been shot in the face, torso, back, and arm, and I knew I’d lost a lot of blood, yet I felt no pain to speak of. The only senses that still seemed to be working fine were my senses of smell and taste. I still tasted blood and gunpowder, and nothing I did would make it go away. The smell of the smoke stayed with me too.

  After resting a few minutes, I would push myself back to my feet and walk forward until my legs gave out again. I’d rest awhile, then crawl until I couldn’t make it any farther. I’d rest some more and start the process all over again. Every cycle of walking and crawling became more difficult. I wasn’t even sure I’d make it all the way, but I knew I had to try.

  I went on this way for a long time, and the farther I went into the thick woods, the darker it got. It wasn’t long until I couldn’t see my hand i
n front of my face. I’d look behind me now and then, and I could still see the glow from my burning house. It was bright against the night sky, but not strong enough to light my way through the thick trees and brush.

  Staggering like a drunken blind man, I struggled on, occasionally tripping over fallen branches and coming up with a mouthful of dirt. More than once I walked straight into the trunk of a tall pine tree. Every bump, every fall, every inch I crawled sapped precious energy and made it harder to press on.

  I was about halfway to Tommy and Helen’s house when I felt as if I were going to pass out. I had to sit down and rest. I leaned up against the trunks of two intertwined trees and slid to the ground. Every breath brought a stab of pain, and I wondered if one of my lungs had collapsed.

  As I sat there gasping for breath, I turned my attention to my house. Even through the thick woods, I could still see the glow of the fire. As I watched the sparks and smoke soaring over the trees toward heaven, a wave of despair washed over me. My throat thickened, and tears filled my eyes, blurring what little vision I had.

  They’re gone.

  I finally understood that trying to get help was pointless. Penny, Erin, Matthew, and Tyler were dead, and no effort on my part would bring them back. I sobbed.

  What am I going to do without them? Oh, God, what am I going to do?

  I didn’t understand any of what was happening, but most of all I couldn’t understand why God had turned His back on us and allowed this. I wanted it to be over.

  “Lord, just take me now,” I said. “I can’t go on.”

  I sat and watched the flames, waiting for the Lord to take me home to be with my family.

  Then, out of the blue, came a thought: If I die, nobody will know who did this.

  I looked toward Tommy and Helen’s house, and for the first time I saw a flickering light coming from their property. It was faint, but it was there. At first I thought it might be a flashlight, and for a few seconds hope filled my heart.