“Where to?” he asked.
“Just drive,” she smiled.
And he had done just that, for hours, until they pulled off at the side of the road and found a deserted picnic spot. It was cold and damp but they didn’t care. They ate and drank.
And talked.
They discussed a lot of things that night; the future, their lives together. They laughed and cried. They kissed and hugged.
And on the big red and white picnic blanket they made love before falling asleep in each other’s arms.
It wasn’t until four in the morning that they woke.
Cold and stiff and shivering, they jumped back in the car and headed towards town, laughing all the way.
But they weren’t laughing so much when Sherrie’s head cold hit a few days later and she was off work for a week.
It was painfully hard for John not seeing her in the office; spotting her smiling face and hearing her voice. He had visited when he could, but Helen was keeping track of him then. Watching him and calling him constantly, making sure he was at work and asking him when he would be home.
She hadn’t believed his excuse when he got home that morning after the picnic. She was sitting up waiting for him. He said that he’d worked longer than he thought, time had slipped away, and he ran out of fuel on the way home. He’d told her he had to walk a few miles for the fuel, but she didn’t believe him.
She asked what film he had seen, but he’d forgotten all about his film excuse. She’d noticed the surprised look on his face when she’d asked the question. There was nothing else for him to say. And she was in no mood to believe any story he told anyway.
So then she started checking on him.
He couldn’t risk even a few minutes with Sherrie. And he knew how that made Sherrie feel.
But there was nothing he could do except promise her things would get better and hope beyond hope that they would.
It took some time, but finally Helen’s calls stopped. Eventually she started working late again, and her strange looks and questions ceased.
Finally.
He’d promised Sherrie at that midnight picnic that he would leave Helen soon.
Six months ago. It seems like just yesterday. I promised her my heart six months ago.
But you’re still with Helen!
Yeah.
Or you were…
I know.
If Zoe and Fox hadn’t got involved, would you have left Helen?
I don’t know.
You still love her.
I know.
But you love Sherrie too?
Yeah.
And Zoe as well?
I can’t think about these things.
You have to.
I can’t!
You love her too, don’t you?
She nearly KILLED me!
You loved being with her.
Yeah, I did. But it got too weird.
She turned you on.
Yeah.
She was fast and hard, and so was sex with her.
I know. I’ve never had it like that before.
And you liked it?
Yes, but look what she did to me.
You loved it?
Yes, I did. But she nearly killed me!
“Look, over there,” Sherrie grabbed his shoulder and pointed through the pines to the right.
John followed her gaze, but he couldn’t see anything other than rain and a wall of trees.
“What?”
“The road!” Sherrie continued. “Didn’t you see it when the lightning flashed?”
John shook his head. He was so deep in thought, he didn’t even register the lightning.
Thunder growled once more and the rain eased off momentarily into a shower.
“I’m sure I saw a road sign and next to it the road rising over a slight hill.”
She pulled John in the direction she was pointing.
“I sure hope so,” he replied.
As if in answer to him, the lightning struck again. A double fork lit up the sky and the forest around them.
John peered through the trees.
He saw the sign through a small gap to the right.
And he breathed a long sigh of relief.
REDLINGFORD 3 MILES.
Sixty
John squeezed her hand as they came over the hill. He stopped walking and looked through the thinning trees, down the slope and into the night.
Lightning gave him the illumination he needed.
Down in the valley below them, no more than a couple of hundred feet away, were two old farmhouses.
“Is this it?” Sherrie asked by his side.
John searched the night, waiting for the thunder to pass and for another strike of lightning. He didn’t have to wait long.
The farmhouses were set away from each other by a distance of about 80 feet. They looked identical, except that the first farmhouse looked in much better condition than the second. Each house sat in the middle of a cleared field. The pines thinned out as they reached the properties, where they stopped altogether. A fence divided the area between both houses and John could make out the dirt driveway running up to the second farmhouse.
They stood in silence, waiting for another flash of lightning.
Was that the driveway? Was that where they killed Helen?
Thunder broke the silence.
The next wave of lightning was not far behind.
John got another look at the second farmhouse in the split-second flash. It was old and looked uncared for. From where he stood, there didn’t seem to be any front door, and some of the roof looked as if it had rotted through years ago.
To the right of the second farmhouse, and set just behind it, was a barn.
Just as Zoe described it!
The barn was totally different to the farmhouse. It looked well-kept and newly painted. At least, he thought it did. But he couldn’t be certain of anything, not from this distance.
Zoe wasn’t lying!
I knew it! She wasn’t lying after all!
John nodded and turned his head to face Sherrie.
“That’s it, alright,” he said as thunder broke the night. “Just as Zoe described it.”
Sherrie looked back into his eyes, “You sure?”
“Yep.”
“And you really want to do this?”
John sighed, “I’ve already answered that, honey.”
The rain began to fall heavily again, splashing hard into the puddles that were already at their feet.
Sherrie nodded sadly.
“At the very least,” he continued. “We can get out of this rain and find some shelter down there.”
“Okay,” she said. “I’m just scared for us, that’s all.”
“I know,” he squeezed her hand. “So am I.”
They started down the hill towards the farmhouses, being careful not to slip over and tumble, their footsteps squelching in the undergrowth below them. John took one look behind him as they left the road and the weather-beaten old sign.
WELCOME TO REDLINGFORD.
These two farmhouses were the only ones they could see. There was no other sign of life.
It was just as Zoe said it would be!
The road disappeared from his view and soon the sign was lost to the rain and darkness.
He didn’t want to leave the safety of the road, but he knew he had no other choice.
“And you really want to do this?” he heard Sherrie’s voice replay in his mind.
No, I don’t. But I have to.
Sherrie had asked him the same question as they stopped by the road sign that read REDLINGFORD 3 MILES.
“Do you really want to do this?”
John had turned to face her as they rested.
“We don’t have any choice,” he said.
“Of course we do!”
“Honey, I have to know, okay? I have to know! I’ve told you that already. The last few days have been totally crazy and I don’t know what t
o believe any more. Zoe says Fox has Helen. Zoe says Helen is being held up here. Zoe says Helen is dead. I don’t know if she’s telling the truth or whether she’s lying. But either way, I have to find out and I have to find out now before we can leave here and get on with our lives.”
Silence. Rain fell between them.
“Do you understand?” John asked.
“Yeah, I do,” Sherrie replied. “I just don’t want you hurt.”
“I won’t get hurt,” he rubbed her shoulder.
“You can’t promise that,” she turned away.
“I can only try my hardest,” he replied. “I can’t promise anything.”
“I know…you never can…”
They had stared at each other in the rain for a few seconds before he leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek.
“You know I love you,” he said.
She nodded and blinked the rain from her eyes.
Was it rain?
“And I love you. That’s why I don’t want to lose you.”
He took her hand.
“Come on,” he said as they walked up the road. “Only a couple of miles to go.”
And now we’re here.
This is it.
It’s time for all the answers.
Are you gonna like them?
I don’t know.
They walked through the wet and mushy undergrowth. The pines fanned out, becoming fewer as they walked towards the farmhouses.
John thought again about turning around and heading back to the road.
We could get on the road and walk back to Hepburn Lakes. Get help there and be gone within hours!
Not that easy, and you know it.
I wish it were.
Life never is.
Or death.
Lightning flashed around them and John realised how wide open the area was becoming. The further they walked, the fewer pines there were around them.
If we can see those houses this easily, anyone who’s inside can see us as well.
You need cover.
But where?
Apart from the two houses and the barn, there was very little else to hide behind. They’d stepped out into the open and he looked behind him and saw the final row of pines they had just left.
Turn back and wait?
Wait for what?
He wished the forest continued all the way up to the farmhouses. Even a few pines dotted here and there would’ve helped them get closer without being seen.
Thunder rolled down the valley as they walked closer.
I’ve got to get closer. Got to see if anyone is there.
What if Fox has gone?
Worry about that later.
No, worry about it now. If he’s left, you’ve lost.
I haven’t lost.
You HAVE! He’s won!
If he’s left, we’ll just have to think of something else.
What?
Don’t worry about it NOW!
The rain continued falling. It dripped into John’s eyes and made his chest and arm wounds itch.
He focussed on the farmhouses again. Something struck him as odd.
He was sure Zoe said Fox had guards stationed around the house, but there were none to be seen.
Are they hiding?
No, guards would be patrolling, not hiding.
He guessed with a storm this heavy, the guards might be pulled back inside the house.
Would Fox do that?
Doubtful.
He looked for any cars in the driveways, but there were none.
Maybe they’re out the back.
Or in the barn.
Maybe Fox doesn’t want people to know he’s here.
Good point.
Maybe he only comes out here to do his business and then goes back into Hepburn Lakes.
I didn’t think of that.
Maybe you should’ve headed for the town! He could be there.
Gotta check this out first anyway.
What if Helen isn’t here?
She has to be.
He looked for any sign of life as the lightning struck again, but he couldn’t see any. There was no sign of anyone.
Weird…
And then he realised there were no lights shining through the windows of either farmhouse.
No lights.
All dark.
Nothing.
“Which one?” Sherrie said as they walked across a dirt track that connected both driveways.
He turned to her.
“Which one do you want to go to first?” she continued.
John eyed both farmhouses again. He remembered Zoe saying that Fox’s house was run down and dilapidated. So he guessed that was the house on the right, and that the other house was maybe owned by someone else.
A good place to start.
“Let’s try the one on the left,” he pointed.
“Doesn’t look like anyone’s home,” she replied. “At either place.”
“Good, then we can use one of them for shelter and get out of this rain. I’m exhausted and need a rest and I think you could do with one too.”
Sherrie nodded, feeling the small bump on the side of her face. “Good idea.”
They continued down the dirt track, skirting the muddy pools of water caused by the storm, and began walking up the driveway.
You’re walking up the driveway.
I know.
What happened to a surprise attack?
Don’t panic, keep calm.
You’re walking up the fucking driveway with no weapons, no protection, no hope of escape!
We’ll be okay.
They could cut you down like they did Helen!
I’m handling it.
Like you did Zoe?
I said, I’m HANDLING it!
“If anyone comes out,” he whispered to Sherrie as they walked towards the farmhouse, “our car’s broken down on the road and we need to use a phone.”
“Okay, that old excuse,” she nodded, stepping closer to him and wrapping her arm around his. “We’re not honeymooners, are we?”
He smiled. “Not yet.”
“Not a fun place to spend a honeymoon,” Sherrie continued, squeezing his arm.
“Depends who you’re with,” John smirked.
They walked closer to the farmhouse.
Sherrie still held his arm. But she was silent now.
The wind blew colder than ever down and across the valley.
John’s stomach turned over and he wondered whether it was from fear or from hunger.
Gotta get some food soon…
Maybe there’ll be some in the farmhouse.
Lightning turned night to day for a moment in time.
The farmhouse looked like any other nondescript country shack. The timber frame looked solid, but old and weathered. The heavy wrought iron verandah spanned the front of the house, and the peeling paint on the hand railing showed the house had stood in the valley for quite some time. The rock steps up to the front deck were pitted and pock-marked, proving they had probably weathered storms and winds like this for countless years.
As they got closer to the house, the verandah loomed over them like a dark cloak, ready to swallow them in its darkness. The windows looked like the deathly black eye sockets of a long-forgotten skull.
Anyone could be watching us from those windows and we wouldn’t even know it.
The rain fell harder.
Thunder echoed through the night.
Lying on its side on the edge of the deck was a dead cactus poking out from a terra-cotta bowl. It looked like it had died from lack of water.
Too bad you couldn’t hang on until tonight, John thought.
Sherrie grabbed his hand and pulled him to a stop just as they reached the front steps.
“I’ve got an uneasy feeling about this,” she whispered.
He turned to face her. The rain was running down her face, pooling on her chin and dripping off.
He smiled at her, “I kn
ow. But it’ll be okay.”
“You sure?” she smiled worriedly.
He couldn’t lie, “No.”
Her smile disappeared.
“I wish I could be,” he added.
The wind gusted and blew through them, sending its cold fingers through their bodies.
Metal scraped loudly in the distance; the noise echoing through the valley.
John snapped his head around, following the noise. He peered into the night and towards the other farmhouse.
Did it come from there?
The wind died and the sound disappeared with it.
“Did you hear that?” he whispered to Sherrie.
“Yeah,” she said in a small voice.
“What was it?”
“I don’t know,” she came closer to him and whispered in his ear. “Just some loose metal flapping in the wind?”
“I hope so.”
“Me too.”
He turned to face her.
“Come on,” he said. “Let’s see if anyone’s home.”
“I love you, John,” she said to him.
He smiled at her, “I love you too.”
They walked up the steps and onto the deck.
“Here goes everything!” he muttered.
As lightning and thunder clashed around them, he knocked on the door.
And the sound of metal scraping somewhere in the valley echoed loudly around them once more.
Sixty-one
Sherrie cupped her hands around her face and peered in the last window along the deck.
“Nothing,” she called to him. “The place looks empty.”
John straightened up from looking in his window. He could see very little through the glass anyway. He could make out the rooms inside, but not much more than that. There certainly wasn’t any furniture and no sign anyone had lived there for quite a while.
“I know,” he called to her from the other end of the deck. “It doesn’t even look like it’s been lived in for years.”
Thunder rolled above them and the house and verandah creaked with it.
They had knocked on the door three times.
But no one answered.
The house was as dead as it looked.
“Strange that the door was locked,” he continued. “If the place was abandoned, why lock the door?”
Sherrie chuckled, “Force of habit?”
John turned to her and smiled, “I don’t think so, somehow.”
“Well,” Sherrie said as she walked back towards him. “At least we’re out of the rain.”
Love Lies Dying Page 48