Love Lies Dying

by Steve Gerlach

  But what if you’re left here all night? You’re not going to be in any fit state to meet Fox on his own terms and beat him. You have to be at your best and you won’t be. You’ll be tired, battered and sore. He’s going to walk all over the top of you, Zoe and Helen.

  John shook his head.

  Helen, poor Helen, he thought. Hang in there, girl, I’m coming to get you!

  He hoped he would be able to save her. And Zoe. Although Zoe was starting to wear a bit thin right now…

  This is crazy!

  Panic suddenly filled him. It rose out of nowhere, almost like it rose from the ground around him, and he knew he had to get out of this mess.

  Now!

  He filled his lungs.

  “ZOOOOOOOOOOOOOEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!”

  He screamed it at loud as he could. His body shook with the scream, his throat burned, his head pounded. His one-word plea seemed to stretch forever until his throat gave out and the noise stopped. It echoed around him in the night and he imagined it flying across the church, past the tennis court and over the graves – heading right out into the darkness, stretching on forever.

  She must have heard this time, he thought as he slumped back down by the Jeep.

  All he would have to do is wait.

  He tried to get his breathing under control. He closed his eyes tight and tried to fight the pain in his head and wrist.

  The pounding sounded louder somehow, clearer now.

  And then John was struck by an odd thought.

  What if that pounding I hear isn’t in my mind?

  He tilted his head to one side. The thought came out of nowhere and surprised him.

  What if that pounding I hear isn’t in my head?

  For the first time, he concentrated on the noise, trying to work out its source and whether it was inside or outside his body.

  There was no doubt that the bump on his head was throbbing in time to his heartbeat. But the rhythmic pounding that he thought was just in his head could be from an external source. He just couldn’t really tell.

  If it’s not in my head, then what is it?

  He listened carefully, trying to match the noise with anything he had heard before, but after a few minutes he realised his efforts were futile.

  It’s got to be inside my head, he decided. Not that it matters, I can’t do anything chained to this Jeep anyway.

  He sighed deeply.

  I just have to wait it out. Play the game and wait it out.

  I have to!

  He didn’t have to wait long.

  Twenty

  He heard her before he saw her.

  First he thought it was the wind through the trees, but as he opened his eyes and looked into the night sky, he realised there was no breeze and the pines were not swaying.

  He looked around, trying to pinpoint where the sounds were coming from, but it was too difficult with the pounding inside his head.

  Suddenly, the bushes directly in front of him parted and Zoe stepped into the clearing. She stopped walking and stood no more than twenty feet away from him.

  He looked at her as she stood there.

  She was naked.

  And her body gleamed with sweat.

  He could see her breasts rise and fall as she took deep breaths, her nipples erect in the cold night air.

  His eyes dropped to the diamond in her belly button. It gleamed still; if anything, it gleamed more from the sweat. The sweat streaked her sides and stomach, as if she too had been covered in a fine layer of dust. It created streams through the dust as it rolled down her body.

  John realised then he was holding his breath, as if he was waiting for something unexpected to happen.

  His eyes dropped lower to the shaved mound between her legs. It was wet and slick too, and ever-so inviting.

  Despite the situation, John found himself growing hard.

  And then his eyes dropped lower.

  To the shovel she was clutching in her right hand.

  The shovel.

  His eyes darted back to her face.

  She was staring at him.

  He smiled at her.

  She didn’t smile back.

  She stood there for what seemed like an eternity. John waited for Zoe to say something, or to move. But she didn’t. She stared back at him, getting her breathing under control.

  He waited in the quiet night.

  He wasn’t going anywhere in a hurry.

  Eventually her breathing returned to normal and her breasts stopped rising and falling so quickly.

  She seemed so much taller now, standing by the bushes, compared to John, who was still on the ground by the Jeep.

  Taller and stronger.

  The scared little girl John had known in the last twenty-four hours as Zoe bore no resemblance to the woman now standing in front of him.

  He studied her face, trying to read the emotions he had come to expect would be displayed there. But her face was a blank canvas. She just stared at him.

  John didn’t know what to do or say.

  He tried smiling once more.

  Nothing.

  Okay, enough of this game, he thought.

  “Hi,” he said.

  It sounded ridiculous in the situation he was in, but he had to start somewhere. And, most of all, he wanted to know what she was thinking and feeling.

  Easy does it, he thought.

  She didn’t reply.

  “I seem to be a bit tied up here,” he said, smiling again. “Do you think you could give me a hand?”

  He shook his right hand to rattle the handcuffs.

  Zoe moved the shovel from her right hand to her left. She said nothing.

  John sighed and shook his head.

  He ran his left hand through his hair, trying hard not to touch the bump that seemed to be still growing on the side of his head.

  He looked around and tried to pat off some of the dust from his clothing.

  “Look, Zoe,” he began. “I’m sorry for what I said before. I was mad and didn’t mean any of it. I just lost my cool, that’s all, I’m sure you understand. Right? I’ve been sitting here thinking about it, and I agree, I acted badly and I’m sorry. I really am, I didn’t mean to act that way.”

  He looked back at her. No response.

  He pointed to his clothes, “I’m getting all dirty down here and with the cold night air I’m going to catch something. Do you think you could unchain me so I can go inside?”

  Nothing.

  The cold night was like a vortex, as if it was sucking his words up and away before they were reaching Zoe.

  She stared at him.

  Still no reply!

  “Look, I understand you’re upset. Honestly, I would be too if someone said all those things to me. But I didn’t mean any of it. I was just letting off steam, you know? I’m not used to this kind of situation and I didn’t know how to react. I’m sorry, okay? Can you untie me and we’ll discuss this properly, like adults, okay?”

  Yeah, he thought to himself. We’ll discuss is as soon as I get that shovel off you and find the gun.

  He smiled one last time.

  “Please?” It sounded so whiney and childlike, but what else could he do?

  Zoe placed her right hand on her hip.

  Well, there’s movement at least!

  John refused to say anything more. He’d stated his case – and now he wanted her to act on it.

  They stared for a long time at each other in the cold night.

  Time’s running out, girl, he thought to himself. Do something or I will!

  He smiled and suppressed a laugh.

  Yeah, right! What are you gonna do strapped to the front of a Jeep? Poke your tongue out at her until she caves in to your every wish?

  He couldn’t help it then. He shook his head, tried not to laugh, but couldn’t.

  He burst out laughing.

  It took her by surprise.

  She stepped backwards and a shadow of doubt ran across her face.

>   Breakthrough, he thought.

  He laughed harder.

  Soon, tears were running down his face as he rocked back and forth on the ground. The cuffs clattered on the metal grill of the Jeep as he let his whole body convulse.

  And then she took a step forward.

  He saw her.

  And she knew he saw her.

  The security lights made the sweat on her body shine, and together with the tears filling John’s eyes, Zoe took on an angelic appearance – almost ethereal.

  He continued to laugh, stretching it for as long as he could, until she was standing just out of his reach.

  “Don’t you see, Zoe?” he said as the laughter died away and he began to wipe the tears on his face with his left hand. “If you leave me out here all night in this cold night air, and you stay out here with all that sweat over your body – neither of us is going to be in any fit state to meet Fox on his terms in a few hours time!”

  Zoe’s face fell and she looked to the ground.

  “That’s why we’re here, remember?” John saw the opening and took it. “We’re here to help you. Now, I can’t help you when I’m tied to the front of the Jeep okay?”

  He waited for a response, but none was forthcoming.

  “Now, I’m sorry for what I said earlier, and maybe I went a bit over the top. But this is over the top too,” he shook the handcuffs once again. “Don’t you agree?”

  The clanging of the metal made Zoe look up and focus on him.

  Two can play at this game, he thought.

  “I’m here for you, Zoe, remember that. But I can’t help you unless you help me. I want to help you. In any way I can. But I can’t help you like this, now can I?”

  He smiled once more.

  Finally, she smiled back.

  YES! John thought.

  “Untie me, please?” he asked.

  She walked towards him, bent down and stared deep into his eyes.

  Her lovely brown pools engulfed him as he looked back at her. He could smell her once more. She smelt different this time – the sweat on her body made her smell more primitive, more sexual.

  More alive.

  John was hard once again.

  Zoe leaned forward and kissed him softly.

  He closed his eyes and tasted the salty sweat on her own lips.

  Then she ran her wet tongue across his lips, wiping the dust from them.

  John’s tongue shot out to meet hers. They touched and held for a second. Then hers withdrew.

  “Untie me, please?” he asked again.

  She ran a finger down his face and her tongue traced a line from his lips, across his cheek and upwards as she moved her mouth slowly to his ear.

  “Not yet…” she whispered.

  John’s eyes shot open in time to see Zoe take one step backwards.

  He lunged for her with both hands, but the handcuffs yanked at him and threw him off balance. He fell sideways onto his shoulder in the dust, the handcuffs holding his right arm and sending pain shooting through his side.

  He turned to stare up at Zoe.

  She smiled at him.

  “Not yet…” she said again as she raised the shovel and brought it slamming down.

  Twenty-one

  Run.

  I have to run.

  I can’t see but I need to run.

  Run before they find me and get me.

  A mountain.

  It’s steep.

  But I must.

  I must run and run and runrunrun.

  They can’t catch me there.

  They can’t get at me there.

  I know that now.

  If I can make it I know I’m safe.

  Safe from the pain and sadness.

  From the fear and lies.

  I just have to make it there.

  I can hear them.

  The pounding.

  They’re behind me.

  The screams are too loud.

  I have to concentrate.

  Concentrate!

  I have to get there before they get me.

  Help me.

  HELP ME!

  I can’t see.

  The rain is tearing through me.

  The rain is killing me.

  I don’t want the rain.

  I don’t need it anymore.

  Help me get to you.

  Help me.

  Before they cause more pain!

  I can’t live like this.

  I can’t live without you.

  Help!

  HELP!

  I’m almost there.

  I’m almost at the top.

  Yes. YES!

  They can’t reach me now.

  I’m safe.

  We’re safe.

  They can’t reach us now.

  I can see you.

  I can’t see, but I can see you.

  How?

  There you are.

  My love, there you are!

  Turn to me.

  Turn to me and embrace me.

  I need you.

  I need you so much.

  Like I never knew before.

  I’m so sorry.

  But I’m here now.

  And I’ll never leave you again.

  I’m here with you.

  Forever.

  That’s a promise.

  I never promised it before, but I do now.

  Now I know.

  Turn around and embrace me.

  Turn around, my love.

  Yes, turn.

  Turn to me.

  No, NO!

  OH MY GOD! NO!

  Nonononononono!

  YOU!

  Twenty-two

  He woke strapped to a chair.

  The first thing he noticed when he regained consciousness was that his headache was worse. He tried to lift his head, but the movement sent pain splitting through his mind.

  Both arms were behind him, pinned down low behind his back, and he could feel the cold steel of the handcuffs around both of his wrists. Gently, he tried to move his arms, but the handcuffs clanked against the back rungs of the metal chair and held firm. The numbness in his shoulders told him he had been in this position for quite some time. Though his arms were numb too, he could still feel the handcuffs biting into his wrists, and his right shoulder ached deep in the joints.

  He tried to sit forward and straighten up by moving his legs. They were like dead weights, mostly from the knees down, and wouldn’t react to his commands. It was then he realised his ankles were tied, one to each of the front legs of the chair. The rope was tied tight, biting into his skin and making movement impossible.

  Damn, John thought, as the events by the Jeep slowly resurfaced in his mind. I was so close to winning her over. So close…

  At least now he wasn’t cold. In fact, he was warm…a little too warm.

  Opening his eyes slowly, he was blinded by the lights.

  Security flood lights again, he thought. Weren’t they set on a timer? They were supposed to turn themselves off after a preset time.

  He squinted until his eyes adjusted to the light.

  And as they did, he realised it wasn’t the security lights that were blinding him.

  It was the sun.

  Risking making his headache worse, John gently lifted his head and began to look around.

  He was sitting in the middle of the church, the sun shining on him through the stained-glass windows.

  He turned his head to the left and peered through the windows. He could see the sun low on the horizon.

  Early morning, he thought. I’ve been out for quite a while.

  He turned back to stare straight ahead through the wooden dividing railing and at the two beds at the end of the church.

  Both were empty.

  Both were still made.

  And there was no sign of Zoe.

  Where is she? he thought. If she didn’t sleep in the bed, where the hell is she?

  He closed his eyes and concentrated on his hearing,
but all he could hear was his own breathing. He tried to slow his breath down, almost to a stop, to give his ears a better chance at picking up sounds.

  But he could hear nothing inside the church.

  He remembered how the floorboards echoed when he walked over them, his shoes sounding loud on the wooden surface. But he could hear no footsteps now. No sounds at all from inside the church.

  Outside, he could hear the occasional bird chirping, but no matter how much he strained his ears, there was nothing else he could pick up. No sounds of any use at all.

  Just silence.

  He remembered how far out in the country they were, how the church was so remotely located. He tried to listen for cars, but wishing for one wasn’t going to bring one.

  He let his breath out with a rush and opened his eyes once more.

  I’m going to have to get out of this somehow.

  He was positioned in the middle of the church and nothing was in easy reach. The long table was to his left and the fireplace, now with the dead embers of last night’s fire, was to his right. The shadow cast from the rising sun was high up on the wall. It would be a long time before the shadow would reach him and replace the warm sunlight flooding over his body.

  He shuffled his legs forward slightly, trying to judge how much slack was in his bindings, but they hardly moved at all.

  Well tied, he thought.

  He leaned forward on the chair; the metal rungs on its back had been digging into his spine.

  The handcuffs slid upwards as he did so, sliding up the metal until they reached the top rung of the chair.

  Well, at least she gave me some room for movement.

  Zoe had done a good job, though. His legs were tied tight and there was no way he could remove the handcuffs from behind him.

  But why treat me this way? he wondered. What sort of game did she think she was playing?

  John looked down at his clothes once more. At least now they were dry, the dampness from outside having been evaporated by the morning sun. He was still dusty and grimy, but it looked as if someone had tried to scrape the worst of the dust from his clothing, leaving long streaks down his pants and shirt.

  His shirt had been rebuttoned too. He couldn’t see the wound on his chest, though it didn’t feel as if it were still bleeding.

  Lifting his head, he tried to work the stiffness out of his neck by peering up into the ceiling of the church. As he did so, he felt a wetness at the back of his head. He rocked his head from side to side. It aggravated his headache, but he continued anyway. His hair at the back of his neck felt hard and sticky, and the wet feeling felt as if it covered his shoulders.