BACKWOODS RIPPER: a gripping action suspense thriller

by Anna Willett

  Tears sprang into his eyes. He hung his head and watched his chest heaving up and down. He couldn’t make himself stand. His mind wanted to, he could even see himself rolling across the floor on the trolley like a child body-surfing through the shallows, but he couldn’t make that final move. He shook his head and droplets of sweat splattered the trolley. He let go of the metal sides and rubbed his sweaty palms on his pyjama shirt.

  Okay. You’ve been laying in that bed blubbering and dreaming about times gone by for days, time to act or time to die. He gripped the side of the trolley and pushed down on his toes. His leg, still throbbing from his last attempt, exploded into a million bursts of agony. He pushed forward and felt his butt leave the bed.

  Tendons sprung out on his neck, and the room echoed with his own hoarse gasping. With a final push, he lunged forward, eyes that only a few days ago twinkled over the top of his sunglasses were now wide and red rimmed. For a moment he remained balanced on the trolley, slumped over on his stomach with one foot barely grazing the floor. He would have to use his foot like he was riding a scooter if he had any hope of reaching the window. He put the ball of his foot on the floor, it felt numb from the swelling. Numb is good, he thought. The less I can feel, the better.

  “This is it,” he said aloud and pushed down.

  He let out a bellow that filled the room and the trolley rolled forward. The window grew larger, a few more pushes and he’d reach it. Sweat trickled from his hair and spattered onto the dusty boards. He paused to listen, terrified that he’d hear the sound of the motorbike’s engine revving to life. That’s when it came – shrill and urgent, but unmistakably Paige’s voice.

  Hearing her terror got him moving. He pushed off with his toes, whether his frantic need to help his wife overrode the pain or the agony had in fact lessened, he didn’t know, but this time the pain neared bearable. One more push and he’d be at the window. Then the world exploded.

  Chapter Twelve

  Paige strode towards the rickety steps leading to the back door. If she had to hazard a guess, she’d say the keys were somewhere in Lizzy and Soona’s living quarters. That was as good a place as any to start looking. She grabbed the splintered wood banister and started up. It took her a few seconds to realise something wasn’t right.

  She stopped, one foot resting on the veranda, head turned to the side. The sound came again, voices. A man’s voice punched the air followed by what Paige recognised as Lizzy speaking rapidly. Their conversation floated around the house, carried on the morning breeze.

  Paige backed down the steps. She clasped her damp shoes to her chest and followed the sound towards the front of the house. Her heart fluttered in her throat and her mouth suddenly went dry. She padded along the broken stone path that led to the corner of the building and stopped.

  “You said the eighth and today’s the eighth,” the man said with an edge of impatience.

  Paige reached out her hand and touched the side of the building, the crumbling cement felt chalky on her finger tips. A million what-ifs spun in her mind. What if he was Lizzy’s husband and they were in on this together? What if he’s dangerous? She recalled asking herself the very same question when Lizzy first stopped on the road; if she’d been more cautious, maybe they wouldn’t be in this mess.

  “I’m sorry, Wade. It’s just not convenient today. Come back on the eighth of next month and you can start then.” Lizzy’s tone had a rushed urgency and for the first time since Paige met the woman, she sounded frazzled.

  Paige decided she’d heard enough. Clearly, Lizzy wanted to get rid of the man. If he played any part in the woman’s crazy plan, why would she be trying to get rid of him? Paige pushed herself away from the house and jogged towards the voices. She could hear the exchange of words continue.

  “I’ve got another job next month and I turned down work at Holdridge’s place in Mount Barker to fit you in,” the man’s voice rose a notch, not quite angry, but getting there. “If you want those trees cleared before summer, it has to be now.”

  “I told you, I’m sorry. What more do you want?” Lizzy’s voice bordered on shrill.

  “The only reason I drove all the way out here was because your father was so good to my Aunty Maude. He never would have mucked me about like this.”

  Paige rounded the corner. The man glanced at her then did a double take. His mouth dropped open.

  “Jesus, Lizzy. What’s going on?” He asked, looking from Paige to Lizzy with wide eyes.

  Paige saw the look on the man’s face and realised how shocking she must appear: her hair clung to her head in dirty clumps, her dress torn, covered in mud and grass stains, and her legs scraped and cut. She stumbled forward, trying to form words, but could only produce a series of rasping sobs.

  The man Lizzy had called Wade looked like a skinny, elderly biker. His big droopy moustache worked up and down as he spoke.

  “What’s happened? Is this why you’re trying to get rid of me?”

  Before Lizzy could answer, Paige seized the man by the front of his black AC/DC shirt, her fingers digging into his chest hard enough to make him cry out and grab her around the wrists.

  “Settle down and tell me what’s going on,” he said, looking down into Paige’s desperate face.

  The dryness that had started in Paige’s mouth now spread to her throat. “Help me,” she managed to croak out the words.

  His brown eyes, buried beneath shaggy eyebrows, and a forehead creased with deep lines, softened. “Okay,” he said, gently prying her hands from his shirt. “I’ll help you, love, but first tell me your name. I’m Wade. Wade Crillick.”

  A calmness in the way he spoke soothed Paige’s screaming nerves. His eyes were kind but lit with a wary intelligence that made her want to fall at his feet. Could it be possible that the nightmare was over and this man, who appeared out of the blue was here to save them?

  “My name,” Paige stuttered and for a split second her mind went blank. “My name’s Paige Loche and … And my husband is Hal.”

  He nodded down at her. “Okay, that’s good. Now, Paige, tell me what happened.”

  “My husband.” She gestured to the house. “He’s badly hurt and Lizzy … She’s insane. She …” Paige hesitated and glanced over her shoulder. Lizzy stood silently at the corner of the house, her face draped in shadows. “She cut off his leg so we couldn’t leave.” The tears poured down her face and her stomach heaved up and down.

  Wade shook his head, a gesture of confusion, not disbelief. “Where’s your husband now?”

  “She’s got him upstairs.” Paige wanted to blurt out that Lizzy was after her baby, but her gut told her to just concentrate on the facts. “Please, we need help.” She looked around for a vehicle and her eyes fell on the motorbike. Her stomach dropped. No way were they all leaving on the Harley. But then another idea occurred to her.

  “You need to go and get help.” She put her hand on Wade’s arm and tried to turn him towards the bike. “You can bring back an ambulance and the police.”

  “Wait,” he said pulling his arm away. “Just calm down and let me think.”

  “There’s no time. You don’t know what she’s capable of. You need to go now!” Paige could feel herself shake with desperation.

  Wade ran one weathered hand through his long grey hair. He seemed to be in the grips of a dilemma. “I can’t just leave you here,” he said. “If you think you’re in danger, you should come with me.” He nodded. “Yeah I think you should come with me and we can sort it all out when the cops get here.”

  “Listen,” Paige said dropping her voice. “I can’t leave my husband with her. She’ll do something terrible.” The last word came out in a wavering breath.

  “Okay,” he said and walked over to the bike. His boots crunched on the loose gravel. He threw his leg over with the practiced ease of a veteran biker. “I’m not sure what’s going on here, but I’m calling the cops. I’ll be a quick as I can.”

  Paige felt a sliver of heat in her ches
t, hope. She moved over to the bike where he sat with his forearms on the handlebars. She covered his deeply tanned hand with hers. “Thank you. I know it’s a long drive, but …”

  Wade frowned, his brows drawing together. “It’s not that f-”

  A thunderclap exploded in Paige’s ears as something wet hit her in the face. Instinctively she ducked and wrapped her arms around her belly squeezing her eyes shut. The ringing in her ears made her shake her head from side to side. She let go of her stomach and covered her ears, but the sound seemed to be inside her head.

  She opened her eyes. Wade had disappeared from the bike. She looked around expecting to see him standing next to her. She saw Lizzy holding a shotgun, its end looking like two black tunnels. The barrel of the gun slid down until it pointed at the ground.

  Paige’s throat worked and her mouth opened and closed, but she couldn’t hear anything save the echo of the gunshot. Then a sudden swooping sound battered her ears as if a bird had flown past her.

  Paige raced around the motorbike. Her worst fears were confirmed. Wade lay on his back, his long legs trailing out towards the bike. His arms were spread wide as if beckoning someone into a horizontal hug. Paige let out a whimper and folded down to her knees. His eyes were open and blinking rapidly up at the cloudless sky. His chest was a shredded mess of bone and tissue, blood oozed out of his mouth like thick dark oil.

  “Wade,” Paige said and touched his face with her trembling hand. “Oh God, I’m so sorry,” she moaned.

  He coughed and something dark and globular flew out of his mouth, landed on his chin, then slid down his neck. His moustache had turned from grey to red. He rolled his eyes towards Paige and blinked. A look of fear and pleading filled the previously warm orbs. A look that begged for help, but all she could do was sob powerlessly. A shudder began in his legs and then travelled up his body. He blinked once more then stilled. Paige had seen that look before. She knew he was gone.

  “No. Wade! Wade!” She put her hand to his face. It was still warm but the skin as unresponsive as clay.

  Paige slumped to the side and stared at her hands. They were smeared with blood. Wade’s blood. She’d known him for less than five minutes and now he was dead. The breeze ruffled his hair and the smell of coppery, fresh blood and something else, something she didn’t even want to acknowledge, filled her nose. Her stomach contracted and she dry heaved. Anything left in her stomach had come up at the dam.

  She heard movement behind her and turned her head. “That was your fault,” Lizzy said, her smoke-coloured eyes on Wade. “I just wanted him to go, but you couldn’t let him. You had to drag him into this.” She snapped her gaze away from Wade onto Paige. “Why did you make me do that?” She screamed and spit flew from her mouth.

  She’s losing it, the voice from the dark calculating place whispered in Paige’s ear. This wasn’t part of her plan. She’s not as crafty as she thinks. Paige looked at the gun, if she could take it from her, she didn’t doubt for a minute that she’d be capable of shooting the woman. She only needed one chance, a split second. The speed at which she’d turned her mind from Wade and back onto her own survival shocked her. She pushed the thought away.

  Lizzy took a backward step and bumped into the bike. For a second Paige thought she would fall, but then regained her balance. Lizzy’s face had drained of colour and her eyes moved between Paige and Wade’s body. The woman was clearly crazy, but she genuinely seemed shocked by what she’d done.

  Paige climbed to her feet, keeping her eyes on the gun. She wiped her forearm across her face, it came away bloody. She looked down and let out a gasp. Her dress was splattered with streaks of crimson. The intensity of the midday sun gave the blood a washed-out quality.

  Lizzy, still holding the gun pointed down, turned away from Wade and walked towards the side of the house. Paige watched the woman’s back, a patch of dampness darkened the fabric between her shoulders. A few flies clung to the circle of moisture. She was turning her back on the mess she’d created. Walking away as if she had something better to do. Paige could feel her blood pulse like fire and her hands curl into fists.

  “What now?” She snapped and Lizzy stopped moving. “Someone will come looking for him.” Don’t make this worse, she warned herself but her mouth seemed to work independently. “You just killed a man and now you’re walking away.” Paige let out a harsh, humourless laugh.

  Lizzy turned. Paige could see Soona near the corner of the house, hands flapping and head bobbing. Lizzy took a step towards Paige and let the shotgun hang loosely from the crook of her left arm.

  “You brought him into this,” Lizzy said. The shock and confusion had gone out of her eyes. Something else loomed over the woman’s face – like watching storm clouds gather in a grey winter sky.

  Paige knew she should stop; she could feel the anger coming off the woman in waves. But her own outrage exploded, taking on a life of its own.

  “I know what you’re doing,” Paige said. “I won’t let you.” Her voice grew louder and the words spilled out. “I’ll stop you, you maniac.”

  Lizzy crossed the gap between them in two steps. Before Paige could move to protect herself, the back of Lizzy’s hand slammed into Paige’s face. The blow caused Paige’s bare feet to slide on the loose gravel; she hit the ground, landing hard on her left shoulder and thigh.

  Her face smacked against the ground and pain sliced across her cheek. In the midst of the agony and surprise, she had time to acknowledge the strength in Lizzy’s blow. She curled herself around her belly waiting for the next hit.

  Lizzy leaned over her, blocking out the sun. “You make me sick,” Lizzy spat. “You and your pretty-boy don’t deserve that baby. But you’re right about one thing.” Paige could feel her hot breath on her face. “They’ll come looking for him, but by then there’ll be nothing to find.”

  “Baby, baby, baby,” came Soona’s voice shrill and panicked at Lizzy’s shoulder.

  Lizzy stood and the sun shone on Paige’s face once more. “I know. I know,” Lizzy snapped at Soona.

  Paige sat up, the pain in her thigh and shoulder felt minor compared to the burn of her cheek. She put her hand on her face and felt a wet gash.

  “Soona, wheel the bike around to the shed,” Lizzy ordered over her shoulder and stomped away.

  Soona leaned over Paige and slid her hand under her elbow. Paige stood, groaning like a senior citizen after aerobics class. Her side ached, but apart from the cut on her face, remained unhurt. She turned and looked at Wade’s body. A deep, empty sadness crashed over her – for Wade, for Hal, and for her baby. Tilting her head, she stared up at the sky.

  “I don’t know how much more I can take,” she said to the soft blue expanse. Her gaze moved across to the house. In the third window from the right, she saw her husband’s face staring down at her.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Paige burst through the empty kitchen. Ignoring the smell of boiled vegetables and mould, she hurried into the sitting room. Her bare feet slapped the bland, threadbare carpet.

  Hal was up, and out of bed.

  She didn’t know how he’d managed it, but she wasn’t surprised. After everything he’d been through, most people would be ready to give up; but Hal wasn’t most people.

  She had only one thought, getting to him before Lizzy found him out of bed. In Lizzy’s twisted mind, he was out of action and Paige wanted her to keep thinking that way. She paused in the hallway and listened. Silence, except for the occasional rattle of lose panes in the antique windows. Satisfied that Lizzy must be somewhere in her living quarters, Paige scurried up the stairs.

  The door to Hal’s room was closed, but not locked. Paige let out a relieved breath and pushed it open. Hal lay sprawled half-on, half-off the bed, his face the colour of wet newspaper and his chest heaving as though he’d just run a marathon.

  “Paige, you’re hurt,” he managed through panting breaths.

  After everything she’d seen today, the worry in his voice almo
st tipped her over the edge. It took tremendous effort not to cry.

  “I’m okay,” she managed to keep the tremor from her voice. “We’ve got to get you back in bed before she sees you.”

  She moved around trying to figure out the best way to get his trailing legs on the bed without hurting him.

  He must have read her face. “There’s no way to do it that won’t hurt like hell. Just grab my broken leg and swing it up.”

  Paige took his ankle and hesitated. He braced himself on the sides of the bed and nodded. She lifted his leg and moved it onto the bed as he swivelled his hips. She could see him grimacing and closing his eyes, but there was no time to hesitate. Neither of them said it, but they both knew if Lizzy thought he posed any risk, she’d do something to incapacitate him further. Paige placed his leg on the bed as gentle as possible under the circumstances.

  “The left one isn’t as bad,” he said around ragged breaths.

  Paige lifted his left leg just above the bandaged stump. It was the first time she’d touched his leg since Lizzy had mutilated him. Even through the pain, she knew he’d be watching her reaction. The image of the foot under the water with the ribbons of flesh jumped to mind. She forced all the grief and helplessness off her face and swung his leg onto the bed.

  She looked up, meeting his eyes. They were red rimmed and watery. “I love you,” she said softly, before picking up the mess of tape, bandages, and equipment that littered the floor.

  Satisfied the room was back as it had been before, Paige used the corner of the sheet to wipe Hal’s sweat drenched face. She lifted the glass for him to drink. While he gulped down the water, she ran her hand over his damp hair.