by JM Addison
*
Mara became aware of her consciousness as if coming out of a dream. She believed she was awake, but couldn’t see anything. She came to the understanding that it was just very dark and very quiet. Too quiet. Too dark. She began remembering some of the recent events – the door being kicked in and knocking her down. The attack. At least she wasn’t dead… Yet. She tried to sit up but was not able to. She seemed to be laying on her back on something very firm, but covered with a soft silky material.
She realized that she was so confined in the unyielding surroundings that she could not really manage to even get her arm up to her face to feel her sore lips and cheek.
Dread overcame her as it dawned on her that she was inside a coffin!
“Nooo! She screamed. Her mind began to go wildly out of control. Has she already been buried? Did they mistake her for dead? No, there was no mistake, she was still wearing the robe. So it must have been the man that attacked her. Is this the way he chose to finally kill her? Bury her alive? How much air did she have left? Would screaming help? In despair, she realized there was little she could do – except go completely nuts – to escape alive from this situation. She realized she was as good as dead.
All of the sudden the coffin became unbearably close. She began to panic as her breath shortened. Was the air running out? It seemed to be getting hotter. She could feel sweat on her face and underarms. She had a terrible urge to wipe her face but couldn’t manage to get her hand up to it. She tried to slow her breathing and hopefully try to cool off a bit. Getting excited about this was not going to help. Even so, she couldn’t help but to break down in sobs of anguish. Tears added to the sweat as they streamed down her face.
How could this be her? Her entire family, wiped out in a week – For what? Money? Knowledge? To keep a big secret? Was her life so insignificant that people could simply throw it away? She didn’t even have a clue as to who was responsible! Oh sure, it was Viiradium for certain, but who? It couldn’t be the whole company. Someone was responsible.
She had no way to measure the passage of time. She knew that it must only be measured in minutes because the air supply couldn’t be all that much, but it seemed like she was in this thing for hours. She wanted to go to the bathroom, but was determined to hold it rather that wet herself. She even began to hallucinate. She saw fleeting images of motion out of the corner of her eye, but whenever she tried to look in the direction of the image, she never could get a real look at it. Only palpable blackness. She felt it odd, that a bit of cooler air could be felt down by her feet and legs.
She wondered if the coffin was simply meant to be some sort of a queer prison torture and fresh air was being made available to keep her alive. That meant she could have been in here for a lot longer that she originally thought. Was she imagining the different temperature air? Was she simply being hopeful?
She never realized how hard it would ever be to simply do nothing. To be forced to do nothing. She was going nuts. She realized that if Dell were within reach, she could probably kill him. She took extreme steps to reveal her location to the one and only confidant she had, someone she thought she could trust, who only ends up doing the ultimate betrayal. She should never have given him that card. He only used it against her. So much for his so called ‘on the job injury’.
Did that mean he was in on this from the beginning? He was only leading her along? Trying to extract whatever he could from her? Now he knew what she knew. She told him about the Tomb. She told him about what it meant – her visit with Professor Tattinger. Did he realize that she simply knew too much and there was nothing to do but eliminate her? Just like her mother? Like Chris? What a creep!
She was startled when the coffin lid wad flipped up unexpectedly and in a dim light, was confronted with her attacker face to face. She noticed with curiosity that the coffin was one of those split models and that the bottom half of the lid was propped slightly to allow some air in. She noticed with satisfaction that the man’s hand was bandaged both front and back evidently from the wounds inflicted during her heroic clawing and biting .
“I see you are done with your little nap.” Said the attacker sarcastically. She thought she detected some sort of an accent in the words. From the look of him, probably Spanish. He continued, “I’ve really had enough of you, no heroic attempts at saving yourself this time. I won’t have any problem closing that lid for good.”
She looked at him for a long moment and knew he was serious. “Why?” was all she could come out with.
“A simple matter of business.” He replied.
“Why kill my mother?”
“That wasn’t me, simply an unfortunate accident. I can see where you get your spirited energy from. I understand that she put up quite a fight but lost.”
“How did you know where to find me?”
“Your friends at the police have been very helpful. I will have to send them a Thank You.”
Her heart sank. Dell. How could she have fallen for that? He seemed so sincere! What treason! What deception! She could honestly say that she could kill him if given the opportunity.
“Why did you kill my brother?”
“Your brother? Oh he’s not dead. At least not right now. Too bad you won’t be seeing him again though. I’m sure he will be quite upset to hear the news of your death.”
That was a terrifying statement. It meant that she was indeed to be killed and not just held in this prison setting. It was likely that this man was simply a hired hand. Someone to do their dirty work. Someone who could care less for her. Simply a job for which he would be paid. Again, that feeling of dire helplessness. She had to keep talking.
“Then why me?”
“Lots of reasons. Politics, money, power. You are in the way of some rich and influential people.”
“They are willing to go through this to keep the tomb secret?”
“Tomb? I do not know about or care of their details. As I said this is simple business.”
“Then why not my brother? You said he was still alive. Doesn’t he carry the same risk to your people if he is left alive?”
“Again, business. Apparently, he’s just too valuable to simply throw out. You, on the other hand, are nothing but a liability. Now that I’ve had to deal with you myself, I can see that.” He indicated his bandaged hand.
“So Viiradium, the Jewel of the Stock market, the Darling of investors and advocate of all of it’ employees, making the data world safer for our private data is nothing but a corrupt, greedy power hungry thug! Kidnapping and murdering those who stand in the way. It seems unbelievable, don’t you think?”
“I know nothing of them. I only deal with people. What they do in their lives is not my concern. Besides, it is not them that have made use of my ‘unique’ services.”
“So you are saying that Viiradium is not responsible for this?”
“It is not important nor is it your concern any longer.”
She couldn’t believe she was candidly sitting here having a seemingly casual conversation with her own killer. “I know this sounds like a very bad cliché, but I really do have to go to the bathroom.”
“After what you have put me through so far, I could care less.” He replied. However, he didn’t want her wetting herself. Actually he was wondering exactly what to do with her. He was really looking forward to having a little fun with someone who looked as good as her and would only be dead shortly anyway. That’s why he didn’t mind answering any of her questions. Especially gratifying was seeing her look when he made the police sound like they were his personal agents.
If he let her get up, she would undoubtedly try to escape. Catching her trying to escape would be the most fun he’d had in a long time, so letting her go to the bathroom would be the best thing to do. The best place to start.
After a pause of consideration, he said, “The bathroom’s right over there. I know you are feeling desperate, so no funny stuff. Just remember… how painful do you want it to be?”
She struggled up and out of the coffin and landed lightly on the cold floor. She realized she was in some sort of workroom with all the tools and paraphernalia that a Damianuary must use to process dead bodies for that final resting place, though she had never really seen the back room of a Damianuary before. She paused as she noticed all of her belongings from the motel piled up on a stainless steel cart, even her wet things from the shower. Enrique noticed her puzzled expression and said, “Don’t look surprised, I couldn’t leave any evidence behind, could I? It looks like you left the motel on your own. I even stuck the chain lock sort of back together. It’s a good thing you’re small, stuffing your pathetic little body into the tiny boot of that piece of crap of a car you have was a real challenge.” he said with a wicked grin. The thought of him touching her while she was unconscious made her feel literally nauseous.
He continued, “the bathroom is right over there. Oh, don’t worry, there’s no window. The only way in or out is that door. I’ll be waiting right here for you.”
She stiffly hobbled toward the bathroom. She couldn’t believe how sore she was. The ceramic floor was like ice on her bare feet. She couldn’t suppress the shiver that momentarily grabbed her like some ghoul from the world beyond. Once inside the bathroom, she fumbled with the old brass slide lock on the door. Even though she was freezing, her nerves were causing her to sweat considerably. She settled her back against the door, put her head back and closed her eyes. Her legs acted as if they belonged to someone else as they quivered with the shakes of terror. As she began to rethink her situation, she thought that staying in the coffin would probably have been the better choice. Slowly running out of air and dozing into a black, suffocating sleep would surely be preferable to whatever that monstrosity that was in control of her life must have in mind right now.
After relieving herself in the toilet stall, she washed and splashed a bit of cool water on her face. She had to calm down and think! The situation seemed entirely hopeless. She noticed the nasty bruise on her cheek from the motel door. Her legs hurt from the kicks she had received – in fact she looked rather horrible. There indeed was no other way out of the shabby little bathroom except the door she came in. At the moment, she was simply trapped in this dingy cell until he decided he’d waited enough and decided to smash the door in. There was only an old porcelain sink on a vanity with a single door, the single stall with the toilet and a cheap, rusting towel dispenser in the room. There was a fluorescent light overhead out of her reach and the remains of a fan that apparently no longer worked since it wasn’t moving any of the stale air from the tired room. She paced back and forth for a moment examining every detail of the room trying to think of what to do. How could she escape from this one? Her right leg continued to be racked with muscle quivers that she could not seem to control. She knew that he would be getting impatient any moment and this only increased her anxiety. Her heart was beating so wildly, she could feel the pulse throb in her neck.
She examined the room closely looking for anything she could use. She opened the vanity door and saw a few cleaning supplies that apparently were not used as much as they needed to be, but that was it. She went into the stall and re-examined the toilet. It was the residential sort with a water storage tank mounted on the bowl.
She was startled so much when he pounded on the door, a barely stifled yelp squeaked through her lips. Out of desperation, she lifted the heavy porcelain top from the back of the toilet tank and carried it out of the stall toward the door. She had no idea what she thought she could possibly accomplish with it, it was pretty tough just carrying the thing let alone trying to whack somebody with it. However, at this point she had no options – she had the most to lose.
He screamed, “You’ve been long enough! Get out of there now!” She simply stood adjacent to the door tightly clutching the toilet tank cover so entirely scared that her right leg seemed like it had a mind of its own. She really had the shakes. She supposed this is what war trauma victims must feel like. So completely terrified that you’re not going to make it out alive. Hoping and praying for some sort of miracle to save your skin, knowing that there isn’t much you can do but stand there and tremble beyond control.
He kicked loudly at the door and let loose a string of what sounded like Spanish and she assumed the words were of the very derogatory kind. Enrique was thinking that she was probably scared out of her wits right about now. He didn’t really want to bust the door because he was hoping to leave the place looking pretty much like he’d found it. If no one suspected anything out of the ordinary happened, there would be no cause for thought or worse, for an investigation. But, she seemed to leave him little choice. He had just about enough of her and thought that he would go in and finish her off right here.
She heard him bang on the door a couple more times, then he remained quiet for a few moments. She was a quick learner and she knew better than to stand near the door again. As if on cue, the door buckled under the force of something very significant ramming into it. The place where the brass slide lock engaged started to splinter a bit. She quickly thought to flip the light off in some vain attempt to make things a bit more difficult for him. Standing in a robe and being suddenly plunged into complete blackness was not at all comforting, one more hit like that and the door would be open. With that thought, the door flew inward and slammed into the wall as he stumbled into the room silhouetted in the light from the hall. Without hesitation she advanced a step and swung the lid with all the strength she could muster.