Dunston Falls

by Al Lamanda

  Peck jumped up from his chair as his head all but exploded from pent up pressure behind his eyes. He held onto his skull tightly, waiting for the pain to lessen, but it only increased. Blowing out the candle, Peck stumbled to the cot and fell on top of it. He closed his eyes and the pressure mounted to a new level. Nearly unable to cope, Peck held his head and wondered if he was having a stroke and tonight would be the night he would die.

  Snow fell lightly as he walked in near total darkness through the woods. Shrouded by the ski mask, he appeared ominous, like a crazed madman as only the whites of his eyes were visible. At a clearing in the woods, he paused to stare at the mobile home of Linda Boyce. Then, slowly, he made his way toward it. As he neared the home, his hands clenched into fists with anticipation of what was to come.

  Like a kid on Christmas morning, he thought.

  At eleven PM, Linda powered up the generator so she could take a hot bath before Harvey arrived from his shift at the paper mill. She busied herself by making a roaring fire in the woodstove and at eleven thirty, she tested the water. It was ready and she filled the tub with her most expensive bubble bath. Harvey, despite his prodigious appetite for food and sex liked the way her skin smelled and felt and took the time to compliment her on it.

  Peck moaned to himself as the throbbing pressure and stabbing pain in his head appeared to worsen. Fearful that he would not last the night, he forced himself to stand up from the cot and stumbled through the dark on wobbly legs to his desk for the bottle of pills. As he twisted the cap off the bottle, a razor sharp pain hit him between the eyes and he fell to his knees. The bottle of pills jarred from his grasp and rolled away.

  From the exterior of the bathroom window of her mobile home, he crouched in darkness and watched as the robe slowly fell away from Linda’s body and she entered the tub of hot, soapy, scented bubble bath.

  At the sight of her nude body, he felt his pulse quicken and a knot form in his chest. He was about to turn away from the window when she began to shave her legs with a razor. The procedure fascinated him and he watched, spellbound as she ran the razor up one creamy thigh and down another. He all but fainted when she turned her attention to her pubic hair and neatly cleaned up with gentle flicks of the razor. Breathing rapidly from his excitement, he felt lightheaded and giddy the way that child does on Christmas morning when they knew the present they wished and hoped for was actually under the tree waiting for them to unwrap it.

  Forcing himself to turn away from the window, his eyes searched for a weapon and settled on a stack of firewood.

  On the floor of his office, Peck crawled toward the bottle of pills, which rolled halfway across the floor towards Bender’s desk. The effort caused the pain to worsen, but he finally reached the bottle only to discover the cap was missing and the pills were scattered on the floor.

  Linda rinsed the razor clean, then tossed it into the sink. She reached for a bottle of baby oil on the floor and rubbed some onto her legs and around her pubic area to avoid razor burn. Satisfied, with the results, Linda lowered herself into the hot, scented water and sipped from a glass of wine and felt all of her troubles melt away. Three candles burning on the sink gave the mood just the right amount of romantic atmosphere. She had tried the portable, transistor radio, but all she could get was loud static, but she didn’t really mind. The peace and quiet was reassuring in a way. She did not hear his truck, but the front door suddenly opened. Who else could it be but Harvey?

  “Harvey? Sugar, is that you? Did you remember the scotch?” Linda called out. “Chevis like I asked you to.”

  Peck crawled around, feeling the floor for the pills until he finally located two. He swallowed them and then tucked himself into the fetal position on the floor to wait for them to take affect. He tried his best not to vomit or pass out.

  Linda drank the last bit of wine in her glass and set it on the rim of the tub. She heard footsteps outside the bathroom door and called out to Harvey again.

  “Harvey, I’m in the tub.”

  Without warning, the door smashed inward with a loud crash and the man in the ski mask suddenly appeared. A thick log from the firewood pile was in his right hand. Before she could move or react, he swung the club against the side of Linda’s head. She felt an explosion inside her skull, then she felt nothing at all.

  In the main hall of the logging camp, Reese’s men entertained themselves with card games and rounds at the pool table. A fire crackled in the massive, stone fireplace. Reese occupied himself with reading reports at the sofa, aided by a powerful, kerosene lantern which rested on the coffee table directly in front of him.

  Reese suddenly closed his report book and checked his watch. “It’s getting late, gentlemen. I am going to bed. I suggest you do the same.”

  At the pool table, Harvey Peterson banked a shot to win his game. He tossed his pool stick on the table as Reese opened the front door of the cabin. Pausing, Reese said, “We’ll breakfast at eight, then head to town. Last man out, make sure the generator is off and wood is stacked for the morning.”

  Harvey waited to make certain Reese was safely in his cabin, then snuck out the front door and walked to his truck. The other men in the squad did not question his actions. They all knew what an insatiable hound he was when it came to women. Besides, Harvey was reliable, never late and good at his job, so who cared if he spent his nights sniffing around.

  Linda opened her eyes and her first thought was that she had gone blind from the blow to her head. She had never experienced such pure darkness before in her life. Slowly, as the fog inside her head lifted and consciousness became clear, she realized that her eyes and mouth were wrapped with duct tape.

  She tried to move her arms and legs and felt the coarseness of rope binding her to the bed. She realized at that moment she was about to die.

  There was a noise, a footstep, then she felt the tape pulled from her eyes, removing skin from her face and hair from her eyebrows. Her screams of pain and fear were lost inside the tape binding her mouth.

  She waited, counted to thirty, waited some more and then opened her eyes.

  Harvey opened the door to his truck as quietly as possible. He was about to step inside the cab when Reese came into the light from whatever shadow he had been hiding in and yanked him on the door. It scared Harvey shitless.

  “I won’t tolerate lateness, sloppy work or a man too tired to perform his duties,” Reese said.

  “I… forgot something,” Harvey said.

  “What’s the name of the little floozy you forgot?” Reese said.

  Harvey grinned as he entered his truck. “Don’t wait up boss. You need your sleep, an old guy like you.”

  “Not so old I can’t figure out what you’re up to.” Reese stuck his face in the door before Harvey closed it. “Just you remember what I said and that your ass is here for roll call.”

  “Count on it,” Harvey said and started the engine. “Me and my ass.”

  Reese stared at Harvey as he put his truck in gear and drove away.

  A lone candle flickered on the bedroom dresser. When she opened her eyes, it took a few seconds for them to grow accustomed to the dark and focus. She searched the room until she saw him sitting in a chair against the wall, watching her through a dark ski mask. By the dim light of the candle, his eyes appeared yellow and crazed. In a fit of panic, she struggled against the ropes. His eyes showed delight at her struggle, as if smiling at her. The tape on her mouth prevented her from screaming. After a few minutes, the rope began to burn her skin and she quieted down. She could see the disappointment in his eyes as lay still.

  The pain in his head was like an elephant sitting on his skull. Peck wondered if he had a blood clot or tumor, if McCoy overlooked something seriously wrong inside his head. He rolled onto his stomach and crawled along the floor to the gravity fed water cooler. The effort made his head hurt even worse and his muscles ached and cramped. Reaching the cooler, he turned onto his back, flipped the switch and cold, clear water washed do
wn and hit him in the face. It had a numbing affect and he let the water run for as long as he could stand it, then turned the water off. He shivered from cold, but at least the pain quelled a bit from the combination of pills and ice water.

  Linda’s eyes didn’t move from the man in the ski mask. He sat in the chair for what seemed like an eternity. She couldn’t tell if he was breathing, he was so motionless. His yellow eyes were locked onto her and when she wiggled her leg to ease an itch, she could see the whites of those yellow eyes follow her movement. What was funny, she knew she was minutes away from certain death at the hands of this madman, yet she thought about the taste of glue from the tape in her mouth. Sour and sticky, she choked back a gag, knowing that if she vomited she would die from suffocation. So instead, she would die with a tongue full of post office glue as the last thing she would ever taste.

  Suddenly, his right hand slowly moved as he raised it to a spot just above his nose and gently rubbed as if he had a headache. She had seen her mother do that whenever she had a headache caused by the weight of her heavy framed glasses resting on the bridge of her nose. She wondered if he wore glasses like her mother.

  After several minutes of massaging the spot between his eyes, the man in the ski mask raised himself from the chair and stood at the foot of the bed. His yellow eyes scanned her spread eagle body. She could feel those yellow eyes searching and settling at the opening between her legs. With a gloved hand, he touched her foot and her entire body seemed to jerk on contact. The eyes inside the mask appeared to smile and take delight in the panic she displayed at his touch.

  He moved the hand up her calf to her thigh and she fought with all of her strength against the ropes, and his eyes showed the pleasure he took in her helplessness. Fear overtook her and tears rolled down her cheeks. He paused to look at her face, and then reached out to touch a tear with a gloved hand and inspect it as if seeing a tear for the first time in his life. He wiped the tear on his shirt and stared into her eyes.

  Determined not to give him any additional pleasure, Linda forced herself to remain calm. Maybe it would help defuse the situation if she showed him he hadn’t gotten the better of her. Except that, he had.

  Long seconds passed before he spun around and returned to the chair where he reached down and picked up a large bread knife that she recognized as one of her own from a set in the kitchen. He turned, holding the knife in his left hand. With his right hand, he opened the belt to his pants and exposed his erection.

  Inside the duct tape, unable to control her fear any longer, Linda screamed.

  The clock in the dashboard of his truck read twelve thirty when Harvey arrived at Linda’s trailer home. On the front seat rested a bag of groceries and a bottle of Chevis Regal scotch, twenty-five years old. He knew that Linda would be pleased at the gift and hoped she would show her gratitude with a little extra care in the sack.

  He parked the truck next to Linda’s beat up old car and hopped out with the bag of groceries in his arms. He went directly to the unlocked front door, opened it and stepped inside.

  “I’m here,” Harvey shouted.

  Linda wasn’t sure what frightened her most, the sight of his fully erect penis or the bread knife in his left hand. Just then, with his pants down around his ankles she heard Harvey arrive in his truck. The man in the ski mask froze in his tracks as Harvey’s truck engine went silent. She heard the front door open and Harvey called out to her. The man in the ski mask turned his head toward the bedroom door and his erection began to wilt as his sexual excitement turned to anger.

  He yanked his pants up and looked at Linda with livid, hate filled eyes as if the disruption were somehow her fault.

  Holding the paper bag of groceries, Harvey went to the tiny kitchen and set the bag on the table. The room was dark and he took the time to light a candle, and then removed the bottle of scotch from the bag. “Linda, are you in the tub again? I got your scotch.”

  Harvey peeled off the wrapper from the cap and opened the bottle. “Linda?” he shouted. “Can you hear me? Where are you?”

  Harvey grabbed two glasses from the counter top and carried them and the bottle to the bedroom. The door was open and the bedroom was so dark it was impossible to see anything.

  “Linda?” Harvey said. “Are you in there?”

  Harvey entered the bedroom, scanning the dark interior with his eyes. As his night vision improved, the faint outline of Linda became visible on the bed. “What the hell is….what are you doing?”

  The man in the ski mask appeared from behind the door and shoved the bread knife into his stomach with such speed and force, Harvey was not aware that he had been stabbed until the Chevis bottle slipped from his grasp and fell to the floor.

  The man in the ski mask brought his face nose to nose with Harvey and shoved the knife deeper into Harvey’s flesh, grunting loudly at the effort. Then he released the knife handle, backed away and looked at Harvey with hate-filled eyes. And just like that, he was gone.

  “What?” Harvey said, feeling his warm blood run down his stomach. He looked at the knife that protruded from a bloody wound just above his naval. Only the handle was visible. Faint light from the kitchen filtered in behind him and he looked at Linda on the bed. She twisted and fought with the ropes as she watched him slump to his knees.

  “Oh God,” Harvey gasped when the pain and realization kicked in.

  Linda watched helplessly as Harvey took hold of the knife with both hands and slowly withdrew it from his stomach, crying and jerking as the blade inched its way from his flesh. He nearly passed out, the pain was so intense, but he forced himself to stay cognizant. Finally, the knife was free and as it fell to the floor, he looked at her. “Help me, please,” he said. “Linda.”

  She struggled with all of her strength, but it was no use, the ropes held tight and she was helpless to do anything. Harvey bent to pick up the knife and fell to all fours and lay still for several seconds. Having no choice he slowly crawled toward the bed. It took him more than a minute to cover the distance of ten feet to the bed. To Linda, watching him inch along, crying out in pain and leaving a trail of blood behind him, it seemed like an hour. Finally, he reached her right arm and somehow found the strength and used the bloody knife to cut her free of the ropes. The knife fell from his grasp as she jumped off the bed and knelt to Harvey.

  Jesus Christ, his blood was everywhere.

  “My truck,” Harvey said, weakly “There’s a radio. Use it to call for help.”

  Without warning, the pain in his head was gone. No lessening of pressure or slow reduction of pain, the way a headache fades away to nothing when properly medicated. It was suddenly and completely gone as if it never struck him to begin with.

  Peck stood up on weak legs and steadied himself against the water cooler. His tee shirt and underwear were soaking wet with ice-cold water and a chill ran through his body. He stripped off shirt and shorts and stood before the woodstove. The heat from the fire quickly warmed him and returned some of the strength to his legs. He rubbed the muscles and stomped his feet to get circulation moving again.

  Behind him, the short wave radio on Bender’s desk suddenly crackled to life. A female voice said, “Please help me. Is anybody out there? A man has been stabbed. Can anybody hear me? Please.”

  Naked, Peck ran to Bender’s desk, nearly slipping in a puddle of water and grabbed the microphone. “This is Sheriff David Peck. I can hear you.”

  “Help. Help me, please,” the voice of Linda Boyce cried.

  Bender kept the cruiser overnight at his house so Peck took one of the snowmobiles, which enabled him to cut through the woods and make much better time along the unplowed, back roads to the residence of Linda Boyce. He had to check the map on the wall before he left and mark the fire road she lived on. Traveling at maximum speed, he made the trip in just under thirty minutes.

  Peck arrived at the Boyce trailer where he parked the snowmobile next to a new pickup truck. Linda Boyce, completely naked, huddled with
her arms wrapped tightly across her chest for warmth sat in the front seat. Wide eyed with fear and shivering, she looked at him.

  “I’m Sheriff David Peck,” Peck said, shining his flashlight into the truck. Blood was on her face and arms.

  She shivered from cold and fear as she looked at Peck. “Don’t make me go in there. Please. I don’t want to go in there.”

  “What’s in there?” Peck said.

  She looked at him. “He’s dead.”

  “Who is dead?”

  “Harvey. He’s dead. He killed him with a knife. Please don’t make me go in there.”

  Peck removed his jacket and gave it to Linda and she wrapped it around her shoulders. Blood was on her face and arms. He spotted the keys in the ignition and said, “Start the truck and run the heat.”

  Linda turned the key, the truck fired to life, and she clicked the button on the dashboard for heat.

  Peck drew his .357 magnum revolver. “Stay here, stay calm and don’t move until I return.”

  Peck turned away from the truck and slowly entered the small, mobile home. He scanned the immediate area with his flashlight, and then moved to the bedroom. Although expecting the worst, he was still shocked at the horrific sight of the dead man on the floor by the nightstand.

  Whoever he was, he left this world hard. A long trail of blood traced his path from the bedroom door to the nightstand where he died face down on the floor. The pool of blood under the body appeared black and thick, a sign that the knife had pierced his liver or a lung. Peck removed rubber gloves from a pocket, slipped them on and looked at the man’s face. He was young, maybe all of thirty. He was also large and powerful, with enormous hands and thick shoulders. Peck figured he was taken by surprise so his strength was not a factor in the outcome.