Bunny Elder Adventure Series: Four Complete Novels: Hollow, Vain Pursuits, Seadrift, ...and Something Blue

by J. B. Hawker

  All their hard work would be useless if Walter returned before they were both free.

  What solutions to the situation could he be considering?

  Walter was odd and not quite bright, but he must realize attempting to kill Max would get him into a lot of trouble, if anyone found out.

  In the movies, the solution was always the same: witnesses had to be eliminated. Bunny hoped Walter was not a movie fan.

  “I’ve got to lie down, now, Bunny. I’m sorry. I’ll try again after I rest a little,” Max whispered.

  Bunny eased him back onto the empty sacks, disappointed and anxious.

  Looking at the cord on her wrists, she saw Max managed to loosen the knots quite a bit. He was too weak and in too much pain to realize how close he came to freeing her.

  A few tugs with her teeth and Bunny’s hands were free, at last.

  She rubbed her wrists and flexed her hands to restore circulation, then sat down and set to work on her ankle bindings. These were looser and took only minutes to remove.

  With their first goal achieved, Bunny was at a loss as to what to do next. Should she wake Max, who was sleeping again, or should she check the door right away?

  It was so hard to think clearly.

  It became obvious to Bunny that if the door was locked, there would be no reason to disturb Max and if it was unlocked, she could just go out and find his phone and call for help right away.

  Standing at the top of the stairs, she hesitated, afraid of the disappointment of finding the door locked, after all.

  Steeling herself, she grasped the knob, turned it and pulled.

  The door didn’t budge.

  Tears welled up in Bunny’s eyes. She couldn’t bear it.

  Last night when Walter shut this door behind him, he must have locked it, after all.

  Despair overwhelmed her as she slowly descended the steps.

  Recalling how they climbed down these steps to their prison only the night before, she could see every painful detail in her mind.

  In a flash, Bunny saw this door opening into the kitchen, not the cellar.

  She turned quickly and ran back up. She grasped the knob, once more, turned it and pushed.

  It opened!

  She saw Max’s phone on the floor just where it was the night before. Crossing the room on tiptoe, trying not to make a sound, she snatched up the precious phone and crept back to the cellar door.

  Perhaps she should call now, from up here.

  On the other hand, maybe it would be better to get clear away and send help for Max. He was sleeping peacefully, after all.

  Bunny did not want to go back into that basement. It had been bad before, but now she was out, it seemed impossible to return.

  She gripped the phone, looked at the buttons and pushed nine-one-one.

  Nothing happened. No matter what she pushed, no beeps, no lights, nothing.

  Bunny never had a cell phone, never even used one.

  To her horror, she did not know how to make it work.

  She must return to Max. He would make the call, or show her how. She could not do it alone.

  Standing with her hand on the paint-spattered doorknob, Bunny cast a longing glance through the streaky window above the sink to the world outside.

  It would be so much simpler to get away now, and send help for Max from someplace safe.

  She was so frightened, so tired, so thirsty...

  Seeing the dilapidated sink nearby, she scurried over to it and turned the tap. She could already taste the cool, blessed water. Even if it were rusty, it would be the best she ever drank.

  She turned both taps all the way open, but not even a trickle came from the faucet.

  The water had been shut off.

  Perhaps a utility worker made the noises she heard earlier in the day. If she had known that it was not Walter, she could have screamed for help.

  Looking out the window, she could see the sun was nearing the western hills. The days rapidly grew shorter and the nights longer this time of year. They would lose the light again soon.

  Crossing back to the door, Bunny flicked the light switch.

  She was not going to take a chance on being down there in the dark again, even for the short while it would take for help to arrive.

  When she looked into the basement, she could see the light hadn’t come on. Bunny tried the kitchen light and it remained dark, as well.

  Of course. All the utilities must have been scheduled for shut-off today. There might have been a whole army of potential rescuers teaming about the place, while Max and Bunny struggled so valiantly with their bindings in the nasty cellar beneath their feet.

  The thought infuriated Bunny, giving her renewed courage to face the site of their imprisonment, and she went swiftly down the stairs. There wasn’t a moment to lose before calling for help. Walter could return at any moment.

  It was possible, even probable, he was waiting for darkness to conceal whatever he had in store for them.

  Max was still sleeping when Bunny crouched beside him.

  She shook him gently and called his name.

  Max moaned and opened his eyes. It took him a few moments before he found Bunny’s face and recognized her.

  “Max, I’ve found your phone, but I don’t know how to use it. Can you call 911 for us?”

  Max nodded, smiled sweetly and closed his eyes.

  “Max! Wake up. You’ve got to show me how to use your phone! It’s nearly dusk and Walter could be back here at any moment. Please, wake up!”

  Max opened his eyes again and Bunny thrust the phone into his hand. His fingers curled around it, but he lacked the strength to lift it up to his face.

  “Can’t do it, old girl. Sorry. Think I’ll just lie here on the beach and rest a bit more.”

  “Oh, Max! You have to make the call...or tell me how. What buttons do I push to make it work? How do I turn it on?”

  In the fading light, Bunny tried to figure out the markings on the buttons, but once again, the device defeated her.

  She pressed the phone back into Max’s hand and curled his fingers around it.

  She could only hope he would awaken soon and be able to make the call.

  If only she had water or a blanket, or something to strengthen him.

  Suddenly, Bunny heard a scraping noise from upstairs.

  Had the utility men come back? Maybe someone saw Max’s car parked by the curb for so long and called the police... or maybe Walter had made up his mind, at last.

  Should she call for help? Run up the stairs? Try to hide them both?

  “Think, Bunny! Think!”

  Bunny ran to the wall on the street side of the house, pulled over a rickety kitchen chair and stepped gingerly onto the wooden seat.

  She prayed it would hold her long enough to get a glimpse outside. Any rescuers would park their vehicles on that side street.

  Bunny pulled herself even with the window, all the time hoping to see dozens of police cruisers and fire trucks nearby.

  What she saw through the weed-choked opening was an empty street.

  Not even Max’s car was in her line of sight. Had Walter moved it? That would not be a good sign, she was sure.

  The chair creaked and began to shift under her, so Bunny quickly hopped down.

  She must find out who was moving around upstairs before she dared to reveal herself and ask for help.

  She would have to go up there. It was the only way.

  Before climbing the stairs, though, Bunny did what she could to protect Max in case she was prevented from returning to him.

  A row of large cardboard boxes lined up between Max and the back wall of the cellar.

  Bunny moved these to form a similar line between Max and the stairway.

  She hoped, if Walter did come down here tonight, he would see the empty pallet and bindings lying in front of the line of boxes where he left Bunny and Max and assume his captives had escaped.

  Searching the darkening corners, s
he came across a few more unsavory gunnysacks. She used one to help set the stage and covered Max with the others.

  The temperature would certainly drop again with nightfall.

  She dropped their erstwhile shackles onto the decoy burlap bag, then, satisfied it was all she could do, Bunny headed for the wooden steps.

  A glance back in the dim light convinced her the ruse had a chance to work, as long as Max did not move or make a sound.

  She noticed a piece of pipe just under the foot of the stairs and snatched it up. She had never struck another human being, but thought the circumstances would be sufficient to overcome her inhibitions.

  Survival trumped manners every time.

  Having reached the kitchen door without hearing any further movement from inside, Bunny dared to open the door a tiny bit.

  She listened quietly for a few tense seconds, and then pushed the opening wider.

  There was more light in the upper levels as it was just beginning to grow twilight outside. Bunny could clearly see there was no one in the kitchen.

  She never expected to get this far without encountering disaster and was a little shocked to have no clear plan of what to do, now.

  Maybe no one else was in the house, after all.

  She always had a vivid imagination and could easily have built up meaningless sounds into menacing footsteps.

  She had done what she could to protect Max.

  The best thing to do, now, was to run out of here to the nearest inhabited house and call for help.

  Max would get the help he needed a lot faster than he would with her sitting with him below, waiting for a killer to return.

  Her panic was leaving her and she began to plan more reasonably. She could think so much clearer above ground.

  Bunny crossed the kitchen, heading for the utility porch and the back door to freedom. As she stepped around the corner into the porch, she heard someone muttering in the kitchen she had just vacated.

  Did Max manage to climb the stairs?

  Before she could return to check, she heard a repeated click.

  “This stupid light doesn’t work. It’s a good thing I brought my flashlight,” Walter said.

  Bunny stepped back, involuntarily, and knocked over the mop propped in a bucket by the washing machine.

  The clanging was the loudest noise Bunny ever heard. She tried to run to the door, but was disoriented and couldn’t find her way around the abandoned clutter on the porch.

  Walter loomed up in the doorway, she flailed at him with the pipe, dashing past him as he dodged her blow.

  Bunny ran through the empty dining room, hoping to reach the front door, but Walter cut her off.

  She looked longingly at the window, wishing she could crash through like a brawler in a Western movie, but her fear of the slashing glass held her back.

  She ran toward the kitchen, hoping to get out the back on her second try, but Walter grabbed her arm and swung her around.

  Bunny managed to connect with his head when she swung her pipe this time, and he loosened his hold, allowing her to spin away and dash up the stairs to the attic room.

  Too late, Bunny realized she had trapped herself in the tiny room.

  She waited beside the door, much as Walter had done the night before. Only, then, he had the element of surprise in his favor.

  Bunny had slim hope she would be able to overpower the younger and stronger man now coming up the stairs.

  If she swung the pipe too soon, she would miss her chance, too late and Walter would be upon her.

  Fighting back hysteria, Bunny tried to think...

  Walter would be expecting her to swing at his head, like before, so she crouched down slightly and, just as Walter stepped into the room, she hit his knee with all her strength.

  He howled and fell, clutching at his leg.

  Bunny tried to leap over him cleanly, but, dropping her pipe as she jumped, she lurched across Walter’s writhing body, landing awkwardly on the second step from the top.

  Off balance, now, her momentum carried her forward, her feet managing to make contact with half a dozen treads before she ricocheted off the sidewall four steps from the bottom and miraculously remained upright as she landed in the hallway below.

  Failing to halt her forward movement, as she chanced a terrified glance behind her, she crashed into the far wall and fell, winded, to the floor.

  Bunny was stunned and confused for a precious moment, just long enough for Walter to reach her before she could get to her feet again.

  “Pastor Jim was right about you, Mrs. Elder. You hurt my knee real bad,” Walter spoke, while looming over her.

  “You get up, now, and no more running or hitting. I used to think you were nice, but now I know Pastor Jim was right.”

  “What in the world are you talking about? What’s Pastor Jim got to do with this?” Bunny was puzzled, in spite of her fear.

  “He taught about One Flesh at the Bible Study. So now I know you aren’t nice, at all.”

  “One flesh? What on earth do you mean?”

  “You should know, you being a preacher’s widow. One Flesh is in the Bible. It says when you get married you become one person with your husband,” Walter explained impatiently.

  “Oh, well, certainly. But what does that have to do with me not being a nice person?”

  “You know....because you and Pastor Elder were One Flesh, you are just as bad as he was. Pastor Jim explained all about it at Bible Study last night.”

  “Why do you say Reverend Elder was a bad man, Walter?” Bunny asked with trepidation.

  She had a very bad feeling about this.

  “Pastor Elder was a very bad man, just like all the other bad men who did bad things to me. That is why I hit him. I am God’s Avenging Angel. Pastor Elder was bad and I sent him through the refining fire. Now that I know you are part of him...and that new husband must be One Flesh with you, too...I’m going to have to send you both into the fiery furnace with him.”

  Bunny could not believe what she was hearing. Was Walter saying he killed Eustace? It wasn’t possible.

  “Walter, you must be mistaken. My husband died in a car accident up in the hills,” she tried to reason with him.

  “I know. I was there. He took me there. He said it was to help me, but it wasn’t. He was a bad man, as bad as Mr. Miller. It’s God’s will for Avenging Angels to kill the bad men. I’m an Avenging Angel...did you know that?” Walter asked.

  “You mean you killed my husband and Bob Miller, too?” Bunny whispered.

  “Yeah, and it was sure funny how you were there to find Mr. Miller...did you like the way I fixed him up just like on the Munsters? That was cool.”

  Bunny was feeling nauseated. She was beyond terror.

  She still didn’t want to believe this seemingly harmless man could be the perpetrator of such vile crimes...and Eustace, too, murdered.

  She couldn’t take it in.

  Walter remembered what he was there for and jerked Bunny to her feet.

  “You hurt me! You hurt my knee and your One Flesh hurt me before. I will avenge on you. Go on!” he prodded her toward the cellar door.

  Bunny walked like an old woman, partly to stall and partially from real pain.

  She was very much afraid there would be a lot more of that before Walter was through with them...and Max! Could she possibly keep Walter from finding him?

  “You may be having your vengeance on me, Walter, but I’m afraid Mr. Banks is beyond your influence,” Bunny began, in desperation.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Just before you came back he managed to untied himself. He loosened my wrists and went for help while I untied my ankles. He will be back any minute with the police.”

  “No he didn’t, either. He wouldn’t have left you here. You are One Flesh ‘cause you were married once.”

  “But we are divorced, remember? He doesn’t care about me that way, anymore. He just wanted to get away as fast as he could. If you want to
be safe from the police you better get away while you can.”

  Walter seemed indecisive and Bunny’s hopes leaped.

  They plummeted again as he shook his head and gave her another shove toward the door.

  “It doesn’t matter if he did go to the police. I got my lucky shirt on and I’m God’s Avenging Angel on an assignment. Nothing can hurt me.”

  He picked up his flashlight from the kitchen floor where he had dropped it earlier. Flicking it on, he motioned with it to the door.

  “Get on down there Mrs. Elder. I’ve got avenging to do tonight.”

  Walter held the light, so Bunny could see to pick her way carefully down the stairs. Her spirits sank lower with each step she took.

  When they reached the bottom, Walter swept the room with his light.

  Bunny held her breath as the light played over the makeshift pallet and the wall of boxes shielding Max. She prayed he was still alive, but that he would not make a sound to reveal his presence.

  Walter picked up the rope and cords resting on the burlap then pushed Bunny across the room to stand next to a beam supporting the floor above.

  He tied her hands, behind her this time, and then bound her body to the beam at the ankles. He trussed her across the shoulders with the clothesline and used the last cord to lash her to the post at the neck.

  When the cord went around her throat, Bunny was sure he was going to strangle her.

  The cord felt tight, but she could still breathe.

  Her pulse pounded in her head. Her only thought was, “Oh God, oh God, oh God,” as she prepared to meet Him face to face.

  Walter finished securing Bunny to the post, tested all the knots and stepped back to admire his work.

  “You won’t be getting out, this time, for sure,” he said with a satisfied smirk.

  “Mr. Banks maybe got away this time, but I’ll get him. Avenging Angels always do, you know.”

  While he spoke, Walter was gathering up bits and pieces of the refuse in the cellar and piling old newspapers, cardboard, and scraps of paper around Bunny’s feet.

  Bunny saw him eying the boxes shielding Max, and spoke quickly.

  “Walter, you are wrong about me, you know. Pastor Jim is wrong, too.”