by Kathi Macias
Chapter 20
Each second seemed like hours as the flashlight beam swept slowly, back and forth, across the darkened bedroom. How long? she wondered. How long could she and Jason remain where they were—cold and wet, crouched and silent, their muscles cramping, afraid even to breathe—before they were found?
And then the light turned, away from them and back toward the living room. Kate’s heart stopped. Could it be? Was their intruder giving up? Were they going to be all right, after all?
The light spun back around, and Kate felt Jason tense beside her. Ever so carefully, she slid her fingers across the floor and laid them gently on top of his. Comfort was all she had left to offer him.
It was coming closer now, no longer moving in a sweeping motion, but growing brighter and brighter, even as Kate detected, for the first time, the unmistakable reek of alcohol. Whoever it was who was closing in on them had obviously been drinking.
As despair began to envelop Kate, she found herself wondering if God answered prayers for people who had turned their backs on Him for so many years. With every ounce of her being, she hoped so.
“For a mere moment I have forsaken you, but with great mercies I will gather you.”
Was that her answer? Was God truly watching over them, ready to gather them, to save and protect them, with His great mercies? Did she dare to believe it? She had no choice.
Oh, Lord, she prayed silently, I’m sorry I’ve ignored you for so long. Forgive me for waiting until my son and I are in such danger to come to you, but—
Kate heard Jason gasp as the flashlight beam stopped, glaring directly into their eyes. Although they still didn’t know the identity of their intruder, the intruder now knew exactly where Kate and Jason were.
Nowhere to run, Kate thought, her hand closing tightly around Jason’s fingers. We’re trapped. Only God can help us now.
“Well, Kate and Jason Ames,” a gruff male voice taunted. “Fancy meeting you here!” His words were slurred, but it was the eerie laugh that followed those words that made Kate’s skin crawl. Who was it? It didn’t sound like Chester Greeley or Al Simons. But who else could it be?
“I’ve been looking forward to this for a long time,” the voice continued. “It’s too bad old Richard himself isn’t around to introduce us.”
Her father? This horrible, drunken man had known her father? It didn’t seem possible.
“You look surprised, little lady.” The voice seemed to mock her as Kate’s horror grew. She could only wonder what was going on inside the mind and heart of her terrified son.
Oh, please, God, don’t let him hurt Jason.
The man sat down on the side of the bed, only inches away from Kate and Jason. The light still shone blindingly in their eyes, but Kate could make out the man’s outline. She could see his worn, mud-covered hiking boots, the dirty, frayed cuffs of his sopping wet jeans. But she still couldn’t see his face.
“Yep,” the man went on. “I knew Richard Waters, all right.” His voice dropped a notch. “Although it didn’t take long till I grew to hate the sight of him, even the sound of his name. He was a mean, evil person.”
Kate felt Jason flinch, but she held him still with a squeeze of her hand. They couldn’t afford to do anything to further antagonize this obviously drunk and crazy man.
“I used to have a son,” the man said. “A daughter, too. Still do, somewhere. They’re a lot older than you, Jason. Got kids of their own—my grandchildren. My grandchildren, and I’ve never even seen them.”
His voice was rising now, and the flashlight beam bounced slightly as he talked. “Do you know why I’ve never seen them? Huh? Do you know whose fault it is that I’ve never even seen my own grandchildren? Whose fault it is that my wife left me? That my children never call or visit?”
Kate swallowed. She shuddered, knowing what the man was going to say, but unable to conceive of any possible reason for his saying it.
“That’s right,” the man said. “Richard Waters. The high-and-mighty banker who thought he was God. Richard Waters in his fancy three-piece suits, sitting behind his big shiny desk, deciding who got loans and who didn’t, who got a chance at life and who didn’t. Well, he decided that I didn’t. I tried to explain to him that he was my last chance, that I needed that money to start a new business, that it wasn’t my fault the other businesses had failed, but he wouldn’t listen. What did he care that my life was falling apart, that my wife and kids didn’t respect me anymore? What did he care? What did he care about anything?”
The man leaned forward then, and the smell of alcohol was overpowering. For the first time, Kate was able to see his dark, heavy eyebrows. They were drawn together in an ugly scowl.
“Richard Waters ruined my life,” he growled. “I lost everything because of him. I only wish I had thought of this before old Richard went and died.”
He sat back again and sighed, as if in relief. “But that’s all right. It may be too late to get even with him personally, but I figure, since he took my family away from me, I got a right to take revenge on his family. Am I right? Of course I am.”
Just as he threw his head back and laughed once more, the lights flickered back on. Kate was horrified at the sight of the drunken, dirty, disheveled man sitting in front of them, laughing maniacally as she and Jason quaked in fear. As terrifying as it had been crouching in the darkness, she found herself wishing the lights hadn’t come back on. At least then they wouldn’t have had to look at him.
And then she saw the gun, sitting beside him on the bed.
“Dear God,” Kate whispered, not even aware that she had spoken out loud, “help us.”
The man stopped his laughing. Glaring down at them with his bloodshot eyes, he snarled, “God, huh? Is that who you’re counting on to get you out of this? Well, it’s going to take a lot more than some invisible God to help you out this time, lady.”
She felt Jason’s fingers squeeze her hand the same split-second she saw the flash of movement out of the corner of her eye. The figure was across the room and leaping onto the drunken man before Kate realized it was Mark who now rolled across the bed, trying desperately to subdue the surprised but struggling would-be killer.
“Rope!” Mark hollered, finally able to pin the man, face down, on the bed beneath him. “Get me some rope!”
While the man thrashed and cursed at Mark, Kate scrambled from her crouched position behind the bed and raced to the kitchen, hardly noticing her stiff and aching muscles as she searched frantically through the drawers for something strong enough to tie and hold the half-crazed man. At last she found a ball of heavy twine.
Running back into the bedroom, she thrust the twine in front of Mark’s face. “Will this do?” she gasped.
“That’s fine,” Mark said without moving. “Here, help me tie his hands and feet.”
Kate could hardly bring herself to come near this horrible man, let alone help Mark tie him up. But she knew she had no choice. She certainly couldn’t expect Mark to do it alone, nor would she dream of asking Jason to help.
She looked over at her son. He hadn’t moved from his spot beside the bed. He was still crouched there, wide-eyed, looking younger than Kate had seen him look in a very long time.
“It’s okay, Jason,” she crooned, as she wrapped the twine around the man’s wrists and ankles. “Everything’s going to be all right now, I promise.”
“Do you want to call the police?” Mark asked. “Or do you want to stay here while I do it?”
“I’ll do it,” Kate offered, unable to stand the thought of staying alone in the bedroom with a man who, only moments earlier, had been on the verge of killing both her and her son. “If the phone’s working, that is.”
“If not, my cell phone’s in the jeep,” Mark said. “It isn’t parked too far away.”
Once again Kate prayed, this time that the phone would be working because she certainly didn’t want Mark leaving her there while he went to his car. Stepping over to
Jason, she leaned down and put her arms around his shoulders, gently urging him to stand up and come with her to make the phone call. The buzz of the dial tone when she tried the phone was one of the most welcome sounds she had ever heard.
By the time Kate finished talking to the police, Mark had joined her and Jason in the living room. “He’s not going anywhere now,” he said, laying the man’s gun down on the floor beside the front door. “He’s not only tied up, but he finally passed out from all that alcohol.”
Suddenly Kate felt so lightheaded that she thought she, too, might pass out. Instead she started to cry. Hot, silent tears squeezed out of her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. She wondered if she would ever be able to make them stop.
As Mark’s arms wrapped around both her and Jason, she leaned against him in a way she had not been able to do since the death of her husband and father—a way she had thought she would never be able to do again. And she felt safe, even as the thunder continued to roll through the heavens above them.