Love Lies Dying

by Steve Gerlach

  These windows had glass in them.

  He opened the door wider.

  The wallpaper was yellow and old, but it was complete here, as was the flooring. There was no space for the rain or wind to get in, no leaking roof or bullet-ridden walls.

  John took a step inside the room.

  Thunder clapped outside, but it sounded muffled from where he was standing.

  The room looked like a normal room in any house. It was a bit damp and the strange smell was nauseating, but it could’ve passed for any room in an old farmhouse.

  Weird…

  Lightning flashed through the windows again and the darkest corner was illuminated for only moments.

  He saw the mattress for the first time.

  And the clothes piled on it.

  He turned, walked over to the corner and knelt down.

  It was a small double mattress, covered with a moth-eaten blanket and the small pile of clothes.

  He grabbed the clothes and held them in his hands.

  It was too dark to make out exactly what he was looking at. So he knelt in the night, waiting for the next flash of lightning to strike.

  Soon they came.

  He was ready for the flash, and when it came he made good use of it.

  He was holding in one hand a suit top and a blouse, and in the other, a skirt and bra.

  Leaning forward, he smelled the bra.

  My God!

  There was no doubt about it. It was Helen’s smell. It was Helen’s bra!

  These are Helen’s clothes!

  Nooo, please no!

  Zoe was right!

  Oh God, oh GodohGod!

  It happened here, right here, just as she said it did!

  Thunder rolled through the valley outside.

  The clothes fell from his hands as he stared down at the mattress, his mind reeling as all the facts fell into place.

  Everything Zoe said was true.

  It’s all true!

  His mind was spinning in the darkness. He staggered to his feet. Lightning struck again, flooding the mattress with light. It was a dingy, flat mattress laying on the dirty floor. Its stuffing was falling out in places and there were stains all over it.

  Stains John didn’t want to think about.

  Thunder echoed around him.

  Oh, Helen. I’m so sorry.

  Oh God!

  No, it can’t be true! It can’t happen like this!

  You fucking bastard, Fox. I’ll hunt you down, you fuck, no matter how long it takes!

  He kicked hard at the mattress.

  Kicked again.

  And heard the metal scrape loudly in the night.

  Huh?

  He bent down over the mattress and felt around it carefully.

  His heartbeat was as loud as the rain hammering on the roof.

  He didn’t want to run his hands through the moth-eaten blanket. But he was sure he heard something clank against the wall.

  He could find nothing on top of the blanket, but he felt a hard shape underneath it.

  In the dark, he pulled the blanket back and ran his hands over the mattress itself. It was cold and damp and sticky.

  The chill of fear spread up his spine.

  Eventually his hands came across the cold hard metal. He picked it up and felt its shape in the dark. He didn’t need any lightning to tell him what it was.

  Some kind of shovel? A small shovel or spade?

  I don’t get it…

  Lightning flashed.

  Illuminated the mattress and his hands.

  And the red stain that was on both.

  Reflecting the streak of lightning, the blood gleamed in the night.

  All over the mattress.

  All over his hands.

  John let out a yelp and staggered backwards, pushing himself away from the mattress and the dark corner.

  The shovel flew from his grasp as he pushed back.

  Blood! Oh God, no!

  The shovel clattered loudly to the floor.

  “John?”

  It didn’t register at first. His eyes were still glued to the bloody mattress in the dark corner.

  Thunder surrounded him.

  So much blood, oh my god, somuchblood!

  “JOHN!”

  He heard Sherrie’s voice then, but he couldn’t call out. He had no time. Words wouldn’t form in his mouth.

  He heard the running footsteps.

  He heard the crash.

  And he heard Sherrie scream.

  Sixty-three

  John grabbed at the walls.

  The door!

  He swung around in the dark, searching frantically.

  The door!

  His nails tore at the wallpaper, reaching out, trying to find the door.

  Lightning struck as the rain fell harder, almost blocking out Sherrie’s screams altogether.

  He was at the wrong wall. He saw the door out of the corner of his eye as the lightning flashed.

  He turned and rushed to it in the dark.

  His foot hit something as he ran, and it clattered away into another corner.

  Sherrie screamed again.

  John grabbed the knob of the door and turned it.

  The door was stuck.

  It must’ve closed behind me or blown shut or something!

  Or it’s locked from the outside.

  No!

  Sherrie screamed again as thunder shook the night.

  He pushed harder.

  The door gave a little, creaking as it did so.

  Harder still.

  The door flung open and he staggered out into the lounge room.

  At first, he couldn’t see anyone, but he could still hear Sherrie screaming.

  The rain poured down onto him through the hole in the roof. He pushed it from his eyes as he looked around the house.

  “Sherrie?” he yelled. “Where are you?”

  “Here,” she called back, fear and pain in her voice. “Quickly!”

  John zeroed in on her voice. It was coming from near the doorway, but there was no sign of her.

  “Where?” he called.

  “Here, in the entranceway!”

  He looked but he couldn’t see her.

  Not until the lightning flashed again.

  And fear rippled through him.

  He saw her hands first, and then her head and shoulders.

  But that was all.

  The flash of lightning was all he needed.

  Sherrie had fallen through the floorboards and was wedged up to her chest. Her arms swung in the air frantically, reaching out across the room to him.

  Carefully he walked towards her, making sure he didn’t make the same mistake she did.

  He couldn’t afford to put one step wrong now.

  “What happened?” he asked as he came closer.

  “I thought you were in trouble,” she said as she stretched for him.

  “Me?”

  “Yeah. You were in that room so long. There was no sound or anything and then I hear this crash of metal or something…and I guess I just panicked. I thought they’d got you or something had gone wrong and I was coming to get you.”

  John nodded as he knelt by her.

  “You’ve got to watch these old floorboards,” he said to her. “Half the floor’s missing.”

  “I know that!”

  “And the other half is very dangerous.”

  “Now you tell me!”

  He reached out to her as thunder and lightning struck.

  Sherrie noticed the stains on his hands.

  “What’s that on your hands?” she asked.

  John pulled them back quickly.

  “Nothing,” he said, wiping them on his jeans. “Just some oil. It was in that room. I accidentally stumbled onto it.”

  “Yuk.”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  He leaned forward and she lifted her arms higher so he could reach behind her.

  “Are you hurt anywhere?” he asked.
>
  “No, I don’t think so. I’m just stuck,” she replied as she wrapped her arms around his neck. “And embarrassed.”

  “That’s okay, honey. It’s good to know you’re willing to be my hero.”

  “Yeah, some hero,” she muttered. “You’re the one saving me!”

  John lifted her. She rose slightly and then gave out a yelp of pain.

  Not that easy…

  Quickly, he lowered her back down.

  “You sure you’re okay?” he asked.

  “I thought so,” Sherrie said, her hand disappearing under the floorboards and touching her side. “Ouch!”

  “I don’t think you are,” he replied.

  “Well, I can’t just sit here,” she said. “I’m already in a puddle of something I don’t want to think about. Its all scummy and awful under here.”

  John nodded as he stood and looked around, “I know. I’ll get you out somehow. I just don’t think pulling you out is going to help if you’ve bruised or cracked some ribs.”

  “Yes, Dr. Murdock,” she replied.

  John turned to stare at her. “I want you in one piece when we leave here. We’ve got a long walk back to Hepburn Lakes. And I don’t want to leave you to go and get help.”

  “Well, that’s one thing you won’t be doing,” she replied. “You’re not leaving me here all alone like this.”

  “Exactly.”

  Sherrie put both hands on the floorboards and tried to lift herself up.

  She let out another cry of pain.

  “Shit,” she muttered as she slumped backwards. “I’m stuck down here!”

  “Sure looks like it,” John nodded as he turned back to her. “We need something to lever you out.”

  “Don’t happen to have a can opener on you?” She tried to sound cheerful, but it didn’t work.

  John knelt back in front of her and pulled at the floorboards surrounding her body. The rain fell hard on his back and head and ran into his eyes.

  He pulled, but each of the boards stayed firm.

  “Looks like you picked the worst spot to lodge yourself,” he said to her.

  “Thanks for the pep talk, coach.”

  “What can you feel down there?” he asked her.

  “Cold and numb,” she replied. “Although, I guess if I’m numb I can’t feel anything…”

  “No, I mean what’s holding you down here? Is it just floorboards?”

  Sherrie’s hands disappeared under the floor for a few seconds.

  “The floorboards are around me,” she said as she felt around. “But there’s like this huge beam or something running the other way across my legs and hips. I’m stuck under that.”

  “It’s the support for the floorboards,” John nodded. “How did you fall?”

  “Awkwardly,” she muttered.

  John smiled, “I mean, which way?”

  “Feet first, obviously,” she replied.

  “I know that. But you must’ve fallen at an angle to wedge yourself like this.”

  “Well, honey,” she was sounding agitated now. “You’re the engineer! I didn’t have time, as I wedged myself down here, to check the angle of my fall or the velocity of my re-entry into the earth’s surface via the circumference of the radius ring or whatever.”

  Silence fell between them then.

  Only the rain continued.

  John leaned forward and kissed her soft wet lips.

  “We have to get you out,” John said as they parted.

  “Sure, Sherlock. That was my plan too,” she agreed.

  “I’ll try pulling you up one more time, okay?”

  She reached upwards as he stood and came towards her. She wrapped her arms around his neck again.

  “Tell me as soon as this hurts, okay?”

  “Okay,” she whispered in his ear.

  She sounded scared.

  John couldn’t blame her.

  Lightning flashed as he pulled.

  She moved upwards, slightly higher this time. He could hear her breathing increase and he knew she was hurting. He kept pulling. Her arms tightened around his neck, slipping slightly as he pulled.

  One more try.

  But it was no use.

  She was stuck.

  He lowered her once more and stepped back to look at her as thunder drummed the night.

  She was in pain, he could tell from her face.

  She just doesn’t want to say it.

  “No good, huh?” she said after she had regained her breath.

  He shook his head.

  “I’m going to have to lever you out with something. Pull up these boards and lift the cross-beam away from you.”

  “And you’re not carrying a crowbar by any chance?” she looked hopefully at him with a half-hearted smile.

  He shook his head, “No.”

  Her bottom lip trembled and she looked away from him.

  “What will we do?”

  “I’ll have to find something to use,” he replied.

  “But there’s nothing here.”

  “There might be in the barn.”

  Her head swung back to him.

  “You’re going to leave me?”

  “Only for a few minutes.”

  “Leave me here? All by myself?”

  “Sweets, we don’t have any choice! I have to find something to get you out of there!”

  She raised her hands to her face, wiping the hair and rain away.

  And tears?

  The rain eased slightly and the wind blew through the house, chilling them both.

  “Okay,” she said with a deep sigh as she looked back to him. “You’re right. We don’t have any choice, do we?”

  “No,” John agreed.

  She sighed again.

  “Then make it quick,” she replied in a quiet voice.

  John nodded. “I will. I’ll be back as soon as I find something to help get you out.”

  He smiled, but he knew it was fake.

  He turned from her quickly, trying to hide the fear in his eyes.

  She can’t stay wedged under there.

  I HAVE to get her out somehow!

  But how?

  He walked past her and out the front door as thunder rolled through the valley.

  “Hurry, honey!” she called after him.

  He walked out onto the decking, stared out into the night and across at the barn.

  It was his only hope.

  There’s got to be something in there I can use, he thought to himself.

  There has to be.

  What if there isn’t?

  He hoped to God that there was.

  Sixty-four

  Every step he took brought him closer to the barn and further away from Sherrie.

  He didn’t want to dwell on what she must be thinking. He didn’t want to think about the horror she must be experiencing being left stuck in a condemned house all alone on a night like this.

  He looked up into the dark sky and watched as lightning flashed overhead.

  Will this ever end?

  He studied the barn as he walked closer towards it. At first he thought it was new, certainly constructed more recently than the farmhouses. But as he got closer and the lightning allowed him to study it, he realised the barn was probably just as old as the farmhouses. It was just kept in better condition. It looked as if it had been painted just recently, the red paint shiny and reflective in the rain, and there was no sign of the dilapidation that was present in the farmhouses.

  Who keeps a barn all spic-and-span while they let their house rot away?

  Thunder clashed around him.

  He kept an ear out for Sherrie, just in case she was calling for him. But in the rain and with the thunder, he knew he had very little chance of hearing her now.

  He wrapped his arms around his chest. He was shivering even more now and his breath fogged in the air around him as he walked. His chest and arm wounds were itching under his shirt, but the pain in his cock was just a dull ache.

/>   He wanted to think about Helen and what Fox must have done to her in that small room.

  All that BLOOD!

  But he couldn’t. His mind wouldn’t let him.

  He wiped his hands on his jeans again.

  Can’t think about that now…

  Sherrie was in trouble and he had to fix that problem first.

  He just hoped there was something in the barn that was strong enough to use as a lever.

  If not…?

  I don’t know.

  What will you do?

  I don’t know!

  He stopped out the front of the barn. Standing in the rain, he concentrated on his hearing and listened for what seemed like an eternity.

  All he could hear was the never-ending pelt of the rain on the ground around him and on the barn roof. It was accompanied by thunder as it rolled on by.

  The barn had two large sliding doors, painted in red with a white sash running diagonally across both doors.

  He stepped closer and reached out for the handle.

  Then he changed his mind.

  Be careful.

  He had to be, for Sherrie’s sake.

  Wiping the rain from his eyes and running a hand through his hair, he turned and walked across the front of the barn and down one of its long sides.

  He knew what he was looking for, and he found it about halfway down.

  Walking as quietly as he could, trying hard to keep his footsteps from sloshing in the wet grass, John sidled up to the barn’s window.

  The sill was at shoulder height, so he made sure he stood to the side of the pane before carefully looking inside.

  He wanted to make sure he wasn’t about to be surprised by anything – or anyone.

  He knew he’d have to wait for some lightning to see what was inside the barn, but a few seconds wait wasn’t going to hurt.

  He peered through the window.

  But he didn’t have to wait for the lightning.

  He could see inside already.

  He spotted the large bales of hay first. Dozens of them, lined up along the far wall of the barn, some stacked three high. He looked for any farm equipment, but he could see none. In the far corner was a workbench. Nailed to the wall above the bench was a variety of tools. Different sorts, different shapes and sizes. Almost a dozen. From saws to hammers, sanders and screwdrivers.

  Yes!

  John was sure he could find something to help get Sherrie out from under the floor.

  He couldn’t tell what they all were from this distance and in this light, but he was sure he could make do.