by James Hunt
“I think so. Why?” Faye asked.
“Maine law states that employers need to perform background checks on any hired employees,” Dell said then smiled. “I was hoping you could get them for me.”
Faye grunted in frustration, kicking her legs off the desk, and then rocked out of her chair. “You only flirt with me when you want something.” She turned around, hips swaying back and forth as she headed toward the file room. “If a rat bites me when I’m down in that hellhole, you’re going to have sex with me on your desk to make up for it.”
Dell laughed and then skirted the reception area and sat at his desk. He stared at Maggie Swillford’s ID, waiting for his desktop computer to turn on. It took about fifteen minutes for the hulking beast to warm up. It would probably be faster for him to just go out and grab the laptop from the car, but he liked using the quiet time to think.
The computer finally booted up, and Dell logged into the crime database to see if Ms. Swillford had had any legal trouble. She’d had a drunken and disorderly charge, but he found that it was the weekend after her twenty-first birthday. He found another charge of underage drinking when she was nineteen. Her rap sheet stretched a little bit longer from speeding tickets and parking violations, but it was ordinary as far as civilians went.
Dell drummed his fingers on the keyboard and then swiveled in his chair toward the hallway down which Faye had disappeared. “Faye? You all right down there?” After a minute of silence, he got up to investigate but then stopped at the slamming of a door and her feet thumping down the hallway.
Faye stopped at the end of the hallway just before stepping into the small office space where Dell and his two coworkers resided. “A rat bit me.”
“It’ll take a few minutes to clear off my desk,” Dell replied. “I wouldn’t want to break the computer.”
She smirked, hips swaying wildly on her return to the reception desk. “There weren’t any background checks on file, though I could have told you that if the captain would just upgrade us to a digital system so I didn’t have to root around in that musty rat trap of a file room.”
Dell frowned. “They’ve never requested any background checks or filed any paperwork? What about that groundskeeper? He was there when I was a kid.”
“Nothing.” Faye returned to her reclined position and picked up the newspaper again.
Dell looked at the ID card again, examining the young woman’s picture. She was around the same age as the woman who had given him the license, which hinted at a pattern, albeit a blurred one. But if the Bells never filed any background checks for their workers, that meant he had cause to go to the house and poke around. Which was exactly what he intended to do.
9
Once out of the town, Sarah darted off the road and into the woods but stayed close enough to the road to help guide her to the highway.
Headlights pulled her attention back to Bell, and Sarah watched the deputy’s sedan drive toward the highway.
And despite having done what she thought was right, Sarah stopped, the crunch of leaves under her boots ending as she finally turned around.
The forest blocked the view of the mansion, but she knew it was there, sitting high on that hill. When she had first seen it when she entered town, she’d thought it was a sign of what was possible, but now a cancerous tumor came to mind.
Shame reddened her cheeks. Shame from not telling the deputy about the body, about not doing more to help someone else, but she had enough on her plate to worry about. It wasn’t her fault other people couldn’t take care of themselves.
The forest was full of rustling leaves, and the darkness made its depths that much more sinister. Sarah jerked from any sudden movement or noise. She’d gotten used to being jumpy, and for better or worse, she’d grown used to being hunted.
Nothing was so soul crushing as helplessness. She had fought so hard and so long to earn independence that when she finally had it, she cherished it. No one to answer to, no one to tell her how to live her life.
But after a while, she had discovered that while the world had its freedoms, it also had its limitations. And those limitations would beat you down into a pulp if you let them.
The forest ended, and Sarah stepped from the trees and onto the highway. There were no light posts, and clouds blanketed the moon and stars, casting the road into pitch black.
Sarah turned south, staying on the shoulder, her eyes peeled for any potential rides that she could bum.
It didn’t take long for the cold to eat through her clothes, reaching all the way to her bones. Sarah kept her arms pinned at her sides in a feeble attempt to trap what little body heat remained to her.
After the first few miles, she lost all feeling in her face, and the tip of her nose became so cold it burned. Every exhalation puffed icy clouds from her lips and chattered her teeth. And the longer she walked, the heavier her backpack became.
The faint hum of an engine turned Sarah’s attention to the north, and she saw a pair of headlights growing brighter and closer in the distance. She stuck her thumb out, walking backward and hoping that the driver would stop.
The truck slowed then completely stopped in the middle of the road. The engine idled, and Sarah squinted in confusion at the yellow headlights.
“What the hell?” Sarah asked, her voice trembling from her shivers.
The truck engine revved, roaring with an anger that shattered the night. Sarah dropped her thumb and began a slow retreat.
Sarah kept her eyes locked onto the headlights while the truck idled. And then, just as quickly as it slowed, the truck charged forward, and Sarah sprinted into the forest.
The moment she broke through the trees, her foot smacked a fallen branch, and she was hurled forward. She thrust her arms out in front of her as she skidded across the cold dirt and dead leaves.
The headlights illuminated the forest ahead as the truck veered off the road, screeching to a stop before hitting the ditch. Sarah turned her head around, eyes open wide in terror, as Dennis stepped out of the truck’s cabin.
When Dennis stepped down the embankment from the road, Sarah scrambled to her feet, continuing her blind sprint into the forest.
Tears squeezed from her eyes as she ran, arms flailing as she smacked away tree limbs. A few small branches scratched her cheeks, the pain worsened by the cold.
She moved in a serpentine pattern, hoping to lose Dennis in the darkness or find someplace to hide.
Every strike of Sarah’s heel against the uneven earth sent a stabbing pain into the backs of her knees. The boots she wore were meant for hiking not running, and their inadequacies were exacerbated by the rough terrain.
The cold burned like fire in her lungs, and she hacked and coughed. All those cigarettes had caught up with her, and the pain eventually forced her to stop. She ducked behind a tree and tried to quiet her breathing as she listened for Dennis.
While Sarah listened, she remembered the pepper spray in her backpack’s side pouch. Her fingers wouldn’t stop shaking as she retrieved it from the tiny pocket and then removed the cap.
Finally armed, Sarah returned her attention to the forest, which remained silent. She couldn’t even hear the hum of the truck’s engine anymore. Sarah pressed her fingers against the rough bark of the tree and slowly stepped to its side, scanning the forest behind her. She squinted, spotting the truck’s headlights.
But there were no signs of Dennis, not a sound, and the silence made it worse. It was as if the man had evaporated, floating through the treetops, just waiting to swoop down and snatch her up.
Sarah waited another minute, and then after still hearing and seeing nothing, she continued her trek forward. She moved quickly but no longer ran, and she kept her head on a swivel.
Leaves crunched to her left. Sarah froze. She turned toward the noise, but everything had been consumed into a pit of darkness.
After another minute of waiting and no more noise, Sarah stepped forward, exposing herself to the forest. She trembl
ed, searching the darkness. And then hands grabbed her neck.
“NO!” Sarah tried to sprint forward, but she was lifted from the ground and then slammed onto her back, losing her grip on the pepper spray. The pack provided a little cushion to break her fall, but the awkward shape buckled her painfully.
Sarah gasped, and then those hands were around her throat again, choking the life from her, stealing her voice and breath.
“You shouldn’t have gone snooping around,” Dennis said, saliva dripping from his lips. “And you shouldn’t have tried to leave.” He inched closer, and some of his spit dripped on Sarah’s cheek. His breath was hot and wretched. “I came to bring you back. I came to take you home.”
Sarah smacked at his arms and kicked her legs, but her defiance was useless against Dennis’s size and strength. But as she squirmed, she kept reaching blindly for the pepper spray, raking the dead leaves and dirt with her fingers.
“Hey,” Dennis said, his voice angry. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
And then Sarah’s fingers scraped something plastic. She froze and then nodded, hoping to buy herself some time.
Dennis smiled. “Good girl.” Still keeping on top of her, he reached around to his own pocket and removed a rag. “I’m going to gag you.” He leaned in closer. “Do you like that?”
Sarah nodded, hoping to prod his ego a little bit longer as she prodded her fingers closer toward the tiny bottle of spray.
“I liked watching you at the house. You’ve been one of my favorites. So pretty in that little uniform. I think I’ll have you put it on for me when we get back.”
Sarah finally wrapped her forefinger and thumb around the base of the bottle and positioned it so she could spray.
Dennis stuffed the rag in her mouth and then removed a roll of duct tape from his pocket. “We’re going to have so much fun.”
Sarah shimmied the bottle closer to her hand, and then when he used both hands to loosen a strip of tape, Sarah shoved the pepper spray close to his face and pressed down.
“AHHH!” Dennis swiped at the hot chemical burst and rolled to his left, clawing at his eyes. “You fucking bitch!”
The cloud of spray lingered in the air, and Sarah was close enough to feel the effects. She coughed and hacked, a burning sensation in her eyes and throat, as she scrambled to her hands and knees.
Muscles trembling, she managed to push herself off of all fours but only made three steps before crashing back down in a fit of coughing, her eyes stinging as she tried to escape the cloud of pepper spray that had enveloped them both.
Tears and snot oozed from her orifices, and she tried to wipe away the residue with her thick jacket sleeve.
Something knocked against her foot and then clamped down on her ankle. Still blind, Sarah glanced behind her as the pair of meaty hands pulled her back.
“You shouldn’t have done that!” Dennis backhanded Sarah’s face, and the harsh slap briefly replaced the pain of the pepper spray.
Sarah cracked open her eyes, and through blurry, tear-soaked slits, she saw Dennis reach for something in his pocket, which he then jammed into her arm.
The tiny pinprick was followed by a dull, numbing sensation. The pain faded and she sunk deep into unconsciousness, the world black and empty.
It was the burning that awoke Sarah from the drugged slumber, residue from the pepper spray. She gagged, tasting the gritty fabric of the dirty rag taped over her mouth. Disoriented and groggy from whatever Dennis had fed her, the world around her was still slightly blurred. But it wasn’t until she tried to lift her arm and remove the gag that she realized she was tied down.
Restraints kept her hands tied behind her back, and her legs were bound at the ankles. And when she glanced down at her own body, she found that Dennis had stripped her down to her shirt and underwear.
With the lingering burn from the pepper spray still in her eyes, she glanced around to try and get her bearings. It was dark, no lights on, and at first she saw only oddly shaped silhouettes that lined the walls. As her eyes adjusted, she saw that she was in a room with no windows, and a single door to her left.
Having found the one exit point, Sarah scanned the room once more in search of anything that could help her escape and found a few boxes in the far back left corner of the room.
The chair itself wasn’t tied down, and the surface was smooth enough to scoot across.
Sarah pressed her toes onto the cold concrete floor and pushed. The chair wobbled, but she didn’t move forward. She tried again, this time rocking the chair harder, and nearly crashed to the concrete, but she remained upright and found that she had moved forward an inch.
Hope swelled in her chest, and she repeated the motion, the progress slow but steady. By the time she passed the halfway mark, she had worked herself into a rhythm, and all her focus was on the boxes. Every inch gained added to the momentum for the next push.
The slow progression toward freedom reflected her life for the past week. All of that time on the road, all of those nights she had gone to sleep unsure of if Brent would find her in the darkness to kill her had transformed into a rage that burned like fire.
Every aspect of her life, every memory she could recall, had been born from some type of struggle. It was as if she had always been tied to that chair, forced to crawl forward one inch at a time until she could reach the box that offered her freedom. Whether it was a job, a car, or an apartment, there was always something that she eyed on the horizon. Something just out of reach.
Less than a foot separated Sarah from the box. And then she heard the echo of footsteps. She froze, turning back around toward the door, and then hastened her approach toward the box.
Keys jangled outside the door and then scraped into the lock. Before Sarah could reach the box, the hinges groaned as the door opened.
“Hey!” Three quick steps and hands pulled Sarah back from the boxes, erasing all of her effort in seconds.
Sarah screamed into the gag, the hope deflating with her dying voice. Even when Dennis stepped around to face Sarah, she kept her eyes fixated on the boxes.
Dennis laughed as he shook his head. “You trying to escape?” He straightened up and walked over to the corner. He picked it up the box in front effortlessly and then flipped it upside down, sending balled-up pieces of paper to the floor.
Sarah went numb.
Dennis tossed the box aside and flattened the paper balls as he walked back over to Sarah. He leaned over with his hands on his knees and brought his face within inches of hers. “You’re here to stay, Sarah. Don’t you understand that?” Slowly, he lifted his hand and ran his finger along her cheek. The tip was callused and rough, scratching a bright-red line from her cheekbone to jawline. “You’re so important.” A tone of childlike wonder returned, and he lingered close to her face.
Finally, he backed away and then reached into his pockets, a light jingle sounding, no doubt from the keys he carried around, and she wondered how many times the creep had been into her room.
“You found something that you weren’t supposed to see,” Dennis said. “If you had just done your job and kept your nose out of business that doesn’t concern you, then you could have had a little more freedom before the ceremony, but now I’ll have to keep you down here.”
Sarah pinched her eyebrows together, unsure what “ceremony” meant to the cretin staring down at her.
“I’ll bring you food and water,” Dennis said, addressing Sarah like a mongrel dog. “And try not to mess yourself until I can figure out an arrangement for you to go to the bathroom. But don’t worry.” He smiled and ran his fingers through her hair. “It won’t be much longer now.”
Dennis slammed the door shut and locked it behind him, his footsteps fading.
Sarah shivered, pulling her body inward and keeping her legs squeezed shut tight. She glanced down at the crushed paper balls, goose bumps spreading over her bare arms and legs, and she cried.
The sobs were muffled by the gag, and her falling tea
rs reignited the residue of the pepper spray on her cheeks, but the chemical had dulled, and the reaction was only a mild burn.
She had gotten so far and survived for so long, but it all crumbled with the dull sound of paper balls spilling onto concrete. Her hope was dashed, and all that was left was to wait for the inevitable death by whatever ceremony Dennis had planned. After everything she’d done, she was still going to be killed by a man she’d angered.
With all her fight gone, Sarah sat motionless, her head hanging lazily to the side. She had stopped shivering from the cold, which meant that hypothermia was starting to set in, which explained the cloudy, foggy nature of her thoughts.
She faded in and out of consciousness, and each time she came to, it took her a minute to remember where she was. Her lips had turned a light shade of blue, and her skin had transformed from porcelain to almost translucent.
“Help us.”
The words were whispered in Sarah’s ear, and she jolted awake, the hairs on the back of her neck standing up as she expected to find Dennis had returned.
But when she scanned the darkened corners of the room, she was alone. She shook her head, trying to shake off the madness that was creeping into her mind.
“Help us.”
The whisper lingered in her ear and echoed in her head. She shut her eyes, trying to force it to be quiet, but it wouldn’t obey.
“Stop it,” Sarah said, her words rolling off a numb and lazy tongue. She twitched in random spasms. “Leave me alone.”
“It will kill you.”
Sarah lifted her head, and the shivers returned as she found herself staring at a woman dressed in a maid uniform. But this time she had her hair pulled back, exposing what she’d been hiding.
The left side of the girl’s face was completely smashed, half of her skull flattened, which crammed what features remained on the left side into unproportioned clumps. Brain matter and blood dripped freely down the mangled portion of her face, and one unblinking eye stared down at Sarah.
Sarah’s lips trembled, but she forced the word out of her mouth. “Maggie.”
