7PM - Brittany (A 5PM Short Story)

by Chris Heinicke

  Some say the sound of a person gurgling on their own blood is one of blood-curdling horror, but right then, hearing this prick choking on the blood pumped from his own internal organs played like a symphony fit for the lords and ladies of death, of which I felt I belonged to at that moment.

  Nevertheless, the sonnet concluded prematurely as he fell face down on the driveway. This moment hit me as to what had happened to my first male true love. I rushed over to him, slumped on his side in a pool of his own blood. Putting his head in my lap, I looked at those loving eyes as he had for me for so many years, and all they did was stare back at me as a pair of pale unattended windows.

  “No…no...NO!” I screamed, the howling began, and the tears flowed with nothing to slow them down. “Billy, don’t leave me now. I’ve only just got you back.”

  Some say fate is cruel, but I likened fate to the nastiest piece of shit some motherfucker from the depths of hell liked to slap me in the face with as soon as I felt just a speck of happiness. Why did I push him away all those years ago at school? Why did we play it safe just in case it ruined everything? Because as I stared at the recently deceased love of my life, I couldn’t help but think life was nothing but a shit sandwich with no end crust in sight.

  How the hell could I explain this to Billy’s mum? Or the authorities? I couldn’t leave it to chance. I needed to make that call and try to get away from this awful town. This is too big and messy for Ed to fix.

  I looked at the sweet face in my lap for the last time ever, and gently placed his head on the ground and wiped my eyes. Getting to my feet, I waded through the night air with the weight of the world trying to impede my movements. My handbag remained exactly where I left it and I retrieved my phone and made the call to Bjorn to clean this mess up.

  He used as few words as necessary and told me to go wait inside the house out of sight. If the police arrived, I wasn’t to show myself to them nor leave the house unless I had no other option. I was to shower in the dark as quick as possible to wash the blood off and try to find anything of Billy’s to wear, including a baseball cap. My clothes were to go in a plastic bag to be destroyed later.

  I understood all this, even if it was the first time I had required his help. I took a minute to look at the carnage near Billy’s car and felt compelled to rifle through the dead man’s pockets. I found a wallet, a set of keys, and a plastic bag, which on further inspection contained half a dozen joints. I ignored my no drugs policy, opened the bag, and stuck the end of one of the joints in my mouth. I dug further in one of the dead man’s pockets and located a cigarette lighter, and lit the other end inhaling deeply as I heard the dried green leaves burn. The smoke burned my throat, and I couldn’t help but end up in a coughing fit, waiting for it to subside before I walked to the house, and then finished the joint before I entered. I floated through the house as my head spun and I spoke aloud, “I will find you again one day, Billy and Faith, either in the afterlife or a next life. And when I find you both, I won’t ever let you go.” The tears flowed again. “I promise.”

  Sneak Peek — 5PM

  CHAPTER 1

  DAY 9

  All my life, I never imagined the hiding place I used for my porno mags as a teenager would be the same place I would be hiding for my life as an adult. However, here I am, lying beneath a dusty old blanket my dearly departed grandmother made for me when I was a snotty-nosed little brat, underneath a trapdoor in my childhood bedroom. Down here, the stench fills my nostrils, and I hate to think how many animals have pissed here over the years since it’s been abandoned since I left home nearly twenty years ago.

  Dust coats everything in this shallow hatch like icing on a cake. And I dare not breathe too heavily for fear I might sneeze from dust inhalation and give my location away to the person hunting me.

  I can hear the clicking of heels on wooden floorboards as the hunter walks from one room to another without muttering a single word. The sound of approaching footsteps echo throughout the house louder than any shouted threat and encompasses with much more menace. I should just give myself up because I know it’s just a matter of time before I’m found.

  I could plead for my life. I could offer money, lots of money. I fear I could end up dead anyway, though. Every few seconds the footsteps cease, leaving me to assume my predator is scouring every nook and cranny of each room they come across.

  With the floorboards only a few inches above my nose, I can see thin beams of sunlight spilling through the cracks between the old timber boards and penetrating the thin covering barely sheltering me. My back aches against the cement. The footsteps start again and echo louder as they make contact with the boards of the hallway and then the bedroom as it branches from it… just next to the room I occupy. The clicking sound is the bane of my existence… for however much longer that may be.

  I deserve death. My sins have led me to this point and have hurt those I love more than they have me. I should come out, surrender, and embrace the punishment I deserve. I have lied, and I have cheated and caused so much damage to so many people in the last week making me feel to die quickly would be one hell of an easy exit from this mess. But I can’t do it. I can’t give myself up. Even if I wanted to throw myself on the mercy of the hunter, my battered body wouldn't let me do it.

  I am a coward.

  I pause my breathing as the echoes of the hunter’s steps come to a halt. I can’t do a thing while I’m lying injured on my back in the shallow area between the concrete foundations and the level of the floor. I have no weapons and add to it, I have restricted movement in my body. Silence lingers like an uninvited party guest much longer this time. They know I’m here; they’re toying with me and making sure every working part of my body is paralysed in fear.

  I want to cry and yell I’m sorry and that I will do everything to right the wrongs I’ve committed if I’m just given one more chance. But if they hold a pistol and possess a heart colder than the steel their weapon is constructed of, then my words will just ricochet off the crust of their exterior.

  Before the next thought enters my head, I hear the sound of clunking steel heels tapping old timber boards filling my ears. This time, it’s louder, many decibels louder, and as the volume climbs, my fears are spent spinning in the tumble dryer of my mind. I take deeper breaths with each approaching footstep until I hear them make contact with the boards of the room where I’m hiding. They’re almost deafening as they make their way over where my body lays just a few inches beneath.

  Stopping directly above me, my pursuer lets out a chuckle and knocks on the wooden floor until their hands find the hidden edge of the trapdoor. This is it. My heart beats so fast I feel as if it desires to run away without the rest of me. Sweat continues to pour assisting in moistening of my hair as the rest of my body tingles with the rising of goose bumps. I can hear someone breathing softly… and it’s not me. A pair of hands pulls the secret door upwards, the creak caused by the action almost deafening in the still air around us. I try to turn away before the sun shines directly through, but I am too late. My eyes aren’t ready to filter the harshness of the sunlight, but none of it matters now as it looks as though the game is almost up, and I am now living on borrowed time.

  So here we are, face to face, and as I stare at my killer, they remove the blanket from me and point the polished long-barrelled pistol at my face. I close my eyes and wait for the explosion, knowing it will most certainly tear apart my head.

  Sneak Peek — The Man in Black

  CHAPTER 1

  April 25, 1917

  Red Spot Mining Company

  Mount Farnsworth, South Atlantica

  Jupiter

  A loud ringing sound echoed throughout the dimly lit cavern—a sound always bringing relief to its occupants working amongst the dusty, claustrophobic confines. The noise within the goldmine both deafening and continuously echoing meant the clock had struck five p.m. and work could stop for the day—if only to come back in twelve hours to do it all again.
>
  “Okay, that’s it boys. Time for a beer,” Geoff Rattler told his three co-workers. He wiped the sweat from his brow with a dirty sleeve of his grime-covered miner’s uniform.

  “About frickin time. Are you sure we were only down here twelve hours because, I swear, Larry over there was clean shaven when we started today,” said Neil, the youngest miner of the group.

  A chorus of laughter rang out, and even the long-bearded Larry, not generally known for his sense of humour, chuckled. The fortnight had been long, but only one more day remained until their two-week break—much deserved and hard earned.

  A lot of young men took up the mining lifestyle in the hope to make quick money and set themselves up for a better life back in the cities. However, some would never escape the mining life until retirement.

  Geoff’s three co-workers assumed he was of the latter, now being in his fifties. They respected the most senior member of their gang, both inside and outside of the mine. Many nights at the local bar brought them into something resembling a family, without the sentimentalities commonly associated. They worked hard and they lived hard.

  “Well, my beard and I could sure use a nice, cold one. Let’s get the hell out of here,” Larry said.

  “I hear ya, buddy,” Neil Purges answered. At a fraction over five feet four inches tall, Neil was the shortest of the gang, but by no means did he let his size hinder him. No one ever bullied Neil ‘The Pit Bull’ Purges and got away with it.

  With the idea of getting some ice-cold beer into them, the men found enough renewed energy within their tired bodies to pack their tools away and head to the shaft cage that would take them away from the dirty cavern. Within half an hour, they would be at the bar, the daily ritual for the group, and there would be no reason for today to be any different.

  Or so they thought.

  A sound not unlike thunder filled the air, echoing and surrounding them, their feet frozen in shock as the hard, stony floor of the cavern wobbled beneath their feet. The rumbling noise overwhelming their ears, the miners’ thoughts were sent into overdrive, but focusing on escape. With only one way out, the shaft cage thirty feet away, they needed to move.

  Geoff stared at the roof of the cavern while dirt and stones trickled from above onto his hard hat. This wasn’t the first time in his long history of mine work where he had seen something like this occur, but if he allowed the wrong words to escape him, fear and panic would spread to the three men he worked with.

  Rumbling sounds continued to drown out all other noise, but he told himself to hold off his fear of what would soon hit them. However, with his expression giving him away, the three younger miners soon shared his concerns.

  Spotting the only way to freedom situated down the end of the crumbling tunnel, Neil took the initiative. Snapping into action, he planted one foot in front of the other, charging down the cavern.

  In his desperation, he dodged fallen rocks and newly formed dirt mounds threatening to break his stride and bring him down. With one hand shielding his eyes from falling dirt and rocks, he felt like he was running through water.

  With Neil looking to be safe, Geoff turned his head to check on his other two colleagues. “Oh, shit!” Geoff’s startled gaze saw Larry lying stomach down on the floor, reaching forward in a futile attempt to claw himself free from fallen debris burying him from the waist down.

  Larry’s brother, Robert, followed Geoff’s look and ran over to grab Larry around his armpits, grinding his teeth in his efforts to pull his brother free. Noticing Geoff watching with a stunned expression, Robert yelled, “Give me a bloody hand!”

  Geoff stared as Robert’s attempts at rescue brought no reward. Snapping out of his stunned state, he ran over to lend assistance.

  “Help me pull him free!” Robert yelled, finding he was making some progress.

  Geoff thought of another way to free Larry. Digging with his calloused hands, he started on Larry’s left side. Robert, on the right, caught on quickly. Flying hands pulled away mounds of dirt and rocks in their desperate attempt to recover Larry’s buried legs.

  “Where the hell is Pit Bull?” Robert grunted his scrabbling growing desperate.

  Geoff turned his head around to see Neil within two feet from the shaft cage, “He’ll be fine.”

  “Well, he should damn well be here helping my brother!” Robert’s words partially d drowned out by another thunderclap.

  Geoff chose not to respond. There was no point in Neil staying behind risking his life when he could be safely away from the danger. No need for Neil adding himself to the injury list.

  The second rumble shook the ground with double the intensity, sounding louder than the first.

  Geoff lost his balance and fell backward against the cavern wall. Dust filled his vision, and he could hear one of the Johnson brothers screaming in pain. Larry, he presumed. He wiped the dust from his face and looked over to where he last remembered seeing Larry and Robert.

  As his vision cleared, he saw the second rumbling had brought down more debris upon Larry’s already trapped body, negating their progress.

  —

  Further down the tunnel, Neil stood in the cage, body shaking, not daring to press the button until his comrades joined him. The dimly lit cavern allowed him only a partial view of his three co-workers. He yelled for them to join him in a vain attempt to be heard above the thunderous babble filling the area the four men shared.

  When the second thunderclap erupted, he watched in horror as the cavern wall lighting blacked out, and the only light now came from small, hardhat mounted globes. With parts of the roof falling and filling the cavern, his already limited visibility worsened. He stared at the control panel of the cage he stood in.

  One press of a button would take him to the surface. One push would bring him freedom from certain death down here in the cavern.

  He watched the men he worked with try to get free from their predicament. Larry and Robert were blood brothers, Geoff the father figure and Neil, the new kid. Their group was as close as any gang who worked these mines, and if any of them were to die, it would be like a death in the family.

  He wanted to help. His heart told him he had no right to stand here in safety while the others struggled. But his head told him to stay. If nothing else, the light on his hardhat would be a beacon of security for the men to aim for.

  He looked at the control panel again. One split second press of a button meant rescue from a rocky tomb, which was looking to bury his friends.

  But Neil waited. You don’t leave your friends behind. Never.

  —

  “Get out of here,” Larry yelled against the constant rumble of a collapsing roof.

  “I will not leave my brother,” Robert yelled.

  Debris had buried Larry up to his armpits. This didn’t deter the two other men. Their hands worked away at the rock piles. Larry still couldn’t move.

  “I’m not gonna leave you behind, bro,” Robert said.

  Geoff’s arms were turning to jelly. If they were going to free Larry, they would need help from above ground. He paused for a minute, sucking in dusty air.

  “Come on, Geoff.” Robert dug harder as he said those words.

  Even though much dirt and rocks had been removed from Larry’s position already, he wasn’t any closer to being able to move using his own abilities.

  No amount of pulling and digging had yet freed him.

  “Let him go,” Geoff said. “We can’t do this ourselves—we need to get help.”

  “NO!” Robert yelled, still desperately tugging at Larry’s buried body.

  “Guys, save yourselves,” Larry growled between forced breaths.

  “No way, you’re my brother,” Robert sat next to his sibling. He turned to Geoff. “Go on then. Get the hell out of here.” Even though his brother’s situation was hopeless, deep down, he didn’t want Geoff to leave them behind.

  Geoff didn’t move.

  “I said get going, you fools!” Larry whispered. Hi
s own situation hopeless, he didn’t want his brother and friend to suffer the same fate by sticking around.

  Geoff started to say something, but the right words were not forthcoming for the tough old miner. He turned away from the Johnson brothers, ducking low as parts of the roof collapsed in front of him.

  With his full attention on watching Geoff run down the cave away from them, Robert didn’t see the collapse of several tonnes of earth above their heads. The pain unbearable but short, Robert’s neck broke immediately as the place he spent so much time working fell down on top of him and Larry. Now they were completely blocked from the view of the others, swallowed in the collapse.

  Geoff used his sense of direction in making his way towards Neil and the only means of escape. After running several feet, he could see the faint light from Neil’s hardhat. He involuntarily made the ironic observation—the light at the end of the tunnel. Yeah, real funny, he thought to himself.

  This was worse than the collapse he experienced twenty years ago at the start of his mining career. He remembered only too well the constant downpour of rock and blinding dust and the screams of his companions as they succumbed to injury. But no one died.

  As a child, he had a recurring nightmare involving paralysing hail storms. In it he couldn’t move against the force of the downpour, finding himself trapped in a corner, drowning as the melting hail filled the dark room he was locked in.

  But he always woke up just before his dream self-succumbed to injuries caused to his bruised and battered body.

  Could it have been a dream of prophecy?

  It couldn’t be!

  He could still move, he could still run, and with Neil’s light appearing brighter, Geoff knew he was getting closer.