by H E Joyce
She felt helpless to do anything but out of desperation she tried the phone to call the police. It was dead. Then, thinking it was possible there was some kind of service on her cell phone, she found her purse and rummaged around until she located it. The signal was weak, but she dialled the number and waited anxiously.
‘911, what’s your emergency?’ came a crackly voice.
‘Police, and hurry.’
‘Hold the line, caller.’
After what seemed an eternity, a voice answered. ‘Police department.’
‘Police? You have to help me, there’s a crazy woman trying to kill my sister.’
‘Police, can I help you?’ came an intermittent voice.
‘Didn’t you hear me? I said my sister’s in danger.’
‘It’s a bad line. Did you say someone’s in danger?’
‘Yes, my sister! There’s a lunatic after her, she’s trying to kill her!’
‘Okay, give me the address,’ the operator said calmly.
Sally gave the address and confirmed her cell phone number.
‘It’s going to take some time before we can get to you; there are trees down, and the roads are flooded in your area. Is your sister in imminent danger?’
‘Yes, I just told you.’
‘Okay, Ma’am, keep calm, we’ll be with you as soon as we can.’
Sally was not left feeling reassured that help would arrive any time soon. By the time the police arrived it might be too late. It crossed her mind whether she should give Michael a call on his cell phone, but dismissed the idea. Somehow, she couldn’t bring herself to call on him for help, the very man who shared a great deal of the fault in this whole sorry mess. She flicked off the flashlight and sat in the dark. Her head was painful, the blood that had mixed with her hair was coagulating, and she was beginning to feel nauseous.
She had no idea how long she had been asleep, but Sally woke with a start as the door was flung open. Her sudden movement made her head hurt. She quickly switched the flashlight on to see Jody rushing in, soaking wet, shivering, and wide-eyed with terror. She went to him and held him tightly.
‘Are you okay, sweetheart?’
‘I’m okay, but mom…’
‘Where is she?’ asked Sally.
‘She’s on the boat with some lady. I don’t know who she is. What’s happening Aunty Sally? I’m scared.’
‘I know you are, everything’s going to be okay though, I promise. Let’s get you out of those wet things. Your mom’s going to be fine, I know she is,’ Sally said, as optimistically as she could. Inwardly, she feared deeply for Laura; being out on a boat in such conditions was madness. It seemed clear that if Beth didn’t kill her, then the sea would claim both of them.
*
Michael was exhausted by the time he had reached the grounds of Brooksville Heights. His hair and clothes were caked in mud. He reached the top of the driveway with the intention of going to the house, but amid the flashes of lightning, spotted Beth’s car parked next to the barn. It made his blood run cold. He noticed the one remaining barn door was open and a gaping hole where the other had been ripped away by the wind. He trudged through what was once lush grass, now a virtual quagmire, towards the barn. He called Beth’s name.
There was no answer. He moved closer and went inside. His heart was thumping; it felt as if it would burst as he called out for her again. He was familiar with her penchant for playing mind games. He had never cared for it, and in light of what he had recently learnt about her, this was the deadliest game she had ever played.
The rain was pouring into the barn, great puddles had formed on the floor, and he looked up and realised that a section of the roof had completely gone. The gardening implements - forks, shovels and rakes which hung from the beams - swung around wildly in the wind, clattering against one another in a metallic chorus. Finally convinced that Beth was not in the barn, he turned to leave, still calling her name. His foot made contact with something solid, it almost made him lose his balance and trip. He tried to kick it aside, but there was too much resistance. It was bulky, yet soft, as he prodded it with his shoe.
It was with a sudden and sickening realisation when he realised that what he had come in contact with was a body. He steeled himself and knelt down, afraid of who he might find, praying it wasn’t Laura.
‘Please God, don’t let it be her,’ he said, as he tentatively touched it. He knew immediately his prayer had been answered; it was someone large, it had to be a man. He felt his way across the body until through the wet overcoat, his hand detected stickiness around the chest. He rubbed the substance between his fingers and thumb and knew immediately it was blood. Just for a second, a flicker of lightening lit Frank Doyle’s face.
Michael hadn’t known what to expect, it never occurred to him it might be that of the detective. The man’s eyes were closed, his body still. There was only one suspect for this deed and it made him feel sick. There was nothing he could do; now he had to find Laura.
He made his way to the house and let himself in, calling for Laura as he did so. ‘Laura, it’s okay; it’s me. Where are you?’
A voice came out of the darkness, followed by the beam of a flashlight shining in his face. ‘Keep your voice down, I’ve just managed to get Jody off to sleep. I hope you’re satisfied,’ Sally spat.
‘Where’s Laura?’
‘You’re too late, Michael, she’s being followed by that maniac girlfriend of yours. They’re out on the boat.’ Sally moved closer. ‘If anything happens to her,’ she whispered, ‘so help me, I’ll…’
‘I have to go down there, is there a spare flashlight?’
‘In the kitchen. But I don’t see what you can do now...’
Michael dashed to the kitchen, picked up a flashlight, and returned. ‘I have to try,’ he said, and then left.
He slipped several times on his way down to the boathouse. The wet, slippery stone of the steps and his muddy shoes were a lethal combination. At one point, in order to steady himself, he leaned too heavily against the old wooden handrail. It snapped and he lost his balance, almost plunging down the cliff. Eventually, he reached the bottom and by the light of his flashlight could see that the boat had gone.
He looked out to sea. There was nothing but a desolate blackness; it wasn’t even clear where the sea ended and the sky began. He pointed his flashlight, sweeping it around, but it couldn’t penetrate the darkness and the heavy rain. It seemed he was powerless to do anything now. Sally had been right. He wondered how much longer the storm would last; how much longer Laura could last.
Twenty Three
The boat was being tossed around like a child’s toy in the wild waters, and although Laura had pulled the throttle out to its full extent, the boat was being pulled back by the waves and getting perilously close to the rocks. Towards the rocks or out to open sea, it would make little difference, they were almost certainly going to die either way, Laura thought.
The sound of the raging waves, combined with the howling wind, was deafening.
‘This wasn’t quite what I had in mind, Laura. Still, maybe it’s best this way, we can go to hell together,’ Beth shouted, clinging to a lanyard at the stern.
Laura stood by the wheel. ‘It doesn’t have to be like this; let me try to steer this boat, Beth, that way we can both live instead. What do you say?’
‘I say, No!’
‘This is crazy!’
‘I know, and I love it! Beth screeched. ‘But then, I am crazy, aren’t I?’ she said, holding her face to the sky and bursting into spontaneous, raucous laughter.
‘You’re not crazy, Beth, you just need help,’
‘Help? You’re as crazy as me! I’m enjoying this, I’m enjoying your suffering, knowing that you’re never going to see your son again – Never!’
Laura tried to hold herself steady, fighting against the wind. ‘I’m sorry about your father, Beth, I really am. I didn’t mean to kill him. But he would have killed me, I had no choice, don’t y
ou see that? If I could turn the clock back to make it all different, I would, but I can’t. I don’t know if you realise this, but I was in a hospital for a while too after that, I had a breakdown – did you know that?’
Beth took a few tentative steps towards her, clinging to the side of the boat. ‘It doesn’t matter anymore, Laura. None of it matters. I only know I have to have revenge for my father. I’ve waited a long time for this moment.’
‘And you’re prepared to kill and die for a father that concealed your very existence? Don’t be a fool, don’t throw your life away.’
Beth lurched for her. ‘Don’t say that! I told you, he loved me.’ She was flung against the side of the boat and took a moment to steady herself. ‘Just shut your mouth, Laura,’ she said, glaring at her through the rain gushing on her face.
Laura looked anxiously at her feet and the rising water level. It was now covering her ankles and they were taking on more water every moment. She wondered how much longer it would be before the boat began to list and finally sink. They were still dangerously close to the rocks as they drifted further round the bay. If they were to strike them, Laura knew that the boat, even if it were in good condition, would not be able to take it; their bodies would never survive being slammed into the rocks.
The engine was still running but the boat was out of control, being swept by the waves on its port side. Laura briefly looked over at Beth and decided that enough was enough; she had to take matters into her own hands. She turned her back on Beth, took the wheel and steered the boat into the incoming waves in an effort to regain control and put distance between them and the rocks. As Laura wiped away the salty water away from her face, and pulled away strands of hair that clung to her face, she glanced back at Beth. To her amazement, she had not moved position or made any attempt at stopping her. She wondered if at last she had made Beth see sense, made her recognise the futility of her actions.
She turned back to the wheel and continued the battle against the waves. It was difficult to know for certain how much, if any progress was being made in the darkness that shrouded them, but the boat was riding the waves amazingly well, and Laura was fairly certain they were slowly but surely moving away from danger. She sensed that the wind, though still extremely powerful, might be dropping slightly, and that perhaps the storm was just beginning to give way to calm.
‘I hope you don’t think that’s going to save you,’ Beth said.
‘Well, I think we’re going to sink whatever I do, but personally I’d rather not end up on those rocks; I don’t know about you.’
‘You don’t fool me, Laura. You still believe you’re going to come out of this alive, so you can go back to Michael and Jody and live happily ever after.’ She laughed. ‘It’s quite funny watching you; I can hear those little cogs working in your brain, just waiting for the right opportunity to present itself. Well I’m sorry to disappoint you, that isn’t going to happen. In fact, I’ve grown rather tired of this; time has run out for you I’m afraid.’
Beth grinned, and keeping a tight grip on the side of the boat with one hand, the knife in the other, she made her way slowly forward. She seemed oblivious to the waves that swept over her and into the boat; the aft was filling fast now, making it low in the water. Laura abandoned the wheel, leaving the boat once again in the hands of destiny. She watched as the shadowy figure of Beth inched her way closer with dogged determination, her eyes, and a glint of the blade, caught in the moonlight that now appeared intermittently from behind black, billowing thunderclouds.
As Beth got closer, she pointed the knife at Laura with stabbing actions, determined to inflict as much fear on Laura as she possibly could before the final act of plunging the knife into her. This time though, Laura stood her ground, and with equal determination, looked at Beth defiantly.
‘Come on then, Beth, come and get me,’ Laura said, mockingly. ‘Do you think I’m just going to let you take me without a fight, is that it? Well, I’m sorry lady, but you’re sadly mistaken if you believe that. Come on, that’s it, come closer.’
Beth looked at her for a moment, apparently taken aback by the new Laura, but inched closer still, as she desperately tried to keep her balance, clinging with one hand to the side of the boat. ‘You think you’re so smart, don’t you?’ she shouted.
Laura ignored the remark. ‘That’s it, a little closer, or are you scared?’ she said, continuing to goad Beth.
Beth was within a couple of feet of Laura, when the hand-held air horn hit her across the face. She hadn’t seen it in Laura’s hand; it caught her completely off guard. She fell backwards and slid down into the rising water at the stern. She held a hand to her bottom lip and looked at the blood for a moment, and then up at Laura. She began to get to her feet, but Laura had already reached her before she had time to stand up. Laura kicked her in the face and she fell back again, stunned, but only for a moment. Then she raised her body and grabbed Laura by the legs, pulling them towards her and causing Laura to end up on her back.
Beth jumped on her, pinning her down, until Laura’s head was partly submerged in the rising water. They struggled together, Laura holding on tight to Beth’s arms, pushing them back as the knife pointed down at her. Beth was strong, but somehow, Laura, grimacing under the pressure, managed to find strength and keep up resistance enough to hold off Beth’s hand that wielded the knife, the point at times only inches away from Laura’s face. The stern was becoming heavier with water with every moment; the boat lay at an acute angle. Where she found the strength from, Laura wasn’t sure, perhaps purely from the will to survive, but she managed to push Beth off balance and they both rolled down to the stern. During the struggle, Beth lost her grip on the knife that she had held on to so tightly; it fell onto the deck, slid down into the rising water, and out of sight.
Beth scrabbled around in the water, attempting to locate it, but Laura pulled at her legs in an attempt to drag her away. Beth kicked, hitting Laura in the chest; she fell onto her back, but quickly recovered and regained her grip on Beth’s legs. This time she managed to pull her away from where the knife had come to rest, but Beth seized Laura by her arms. They struggled wildly, rolling across one another and again found themselves in the deepening water, each desperately attempting to gain control.
Laura was pinned to the deck with Beth straddling her once again and attempting to reach her throat. Laura held Beth’s wrists, bravely fighting back, but Beth was too strong and managed to shake her hands free and put them tightly around Laura’s throat. The grip tightened and her legs thrashed around as she struggled to breathe. Beth grinned manically as she tightened the grip still more.
Laura’s hands groped around, feeling for anything she could use as a weapon while she still had breath in her body. With her hand completely underwater, the tips of her fingers made contact with an object she instinctively knew was the knife. She gripped it, at first by its blade, and blood ran from the palm of her hand, but she felt no pain. She fumbled around blindly until she found the handle, and then with the little strength she had left, drove the knife into Beth’s leg.
Laura had no idea as to where she had struck Beth. Her aim had been impaired and it was nothing but a flesh wound, but it was enough to make Beth recoil in pain and release her grip on Laura’s throat. Laura gasped in some air, held her throat and coughed, but only for a moment; she knew there was no time to lose. She managed to stand up, and although still feeling the effects of being starved of air, she managed to kick Beth squarely in the jaw before she had a chance to continue her attack.
Laura stood there for a few moments, looking down at Beth lying unconscious on her back, her dark hair waving around like strands of sea grass in the water. Her face was also submerged, but Laura didn’t pull her out, she left her as she was, then returned to the wheel to steer the boat around the bay as best she could.
The worst of the storm had passed and it was relatively calm as she headed for the harbour in Brooksville. The power was still out, but she could
see the faint glimmer of storm lamps inside some of the properties along the waterfront, and although she was not yet out of trouble, she wasn’t confident the boat would stay afloat for much longer. The harbour was an extremely welcome sight.
She looked at the shoreline; it was partially visible in the moonlight that now shone brightly, as the clouds that had previously hidden it were gone. It was quite beautiful, and if it weren’t for the fact that the boat was waterlogged and in danger of sinking, she thought she could stay out there forever. She wondered if one of the tiny specs of light she could see along the waterfront represented Michael’s office, it was difficult to say with any accuracy. Mainly though, she simply wanted to reach the shore and somehow get back to the house, and to Jody.
The engine was beginning to sound sluggish, as if it were about to finally cut out. She assumed it was becoming waterlogged. She willed it to carry on the short distance to the harbour. Looking behind her, she could see Beth, still in the prone position in which she had left her, her body motionless, her eyes wide open and staring lifelessly, unseeingly skyward. She couldn’t help feeling a degree of pity.
It was less than a mile to the harbour; she was certain the boat could hold out a little longer after all it had been through, and considering it was so badly in need of attention, it had proved to be a great little craft, though she suspected it would never sail again. With one hand on the wheel, she opened one of the lockers and found the lifejackets; it seemed a good time to put one on, she was not a strong swimmer.