by Anna Willett
“Mr Campson we don’t want to–”
“Shut up.”
When they reached the cave, Caitlin turned to look at him and instantly regretted it. He was sweating, dark circles stained the sides of his blue work shirt. His mouth hung open like he was out of breath, revealing yellow teeth bunched together like the weeds that grew around the cave. Why had she never noticed how big and dirty he looked?
“Why do you wear those short little skirts?” His lower jaw moved when he spoke making him look like a puppet. “Is it because you want men to look at you?”
Sharon whimpered. Over his shoulder, golden sunlight played across the expanse of bush grass. Caitlin imagined herself running through the grass, her legs moving so swiftly they were a blur. She wanted to bolt, but her body wouldn’t respond. Every muscle in her legs itched with the urge to run yet she was frozen.
“Get in there.” He motioned to the cave.
“Please.” Sharon squeezed Caitlin’s hand so hard it felt like the bones would snap.
Campson took a step towards them, his hands bunched into fists. The girls stumbled back and turned to the cave. The smell of dirt and urine clogged Caitlin’s mouth and nose. The walls were plastered with graffiti, the floor grey dirt. The sound of Campson’s laboured breathing bounced around them as if he were everywhere. The ceiling was low, pressing down on her as if she were being buried. Caitlin felt a scream building in her chest like a hurricane.
* * *
The cupboard door swung open, snapping her back into the moment with jarring clarity. Light filtered through the towels blocking her face. He’d found her. Any second now, Felix would grab her by the shoulders and drag her out of the linen cupboard. Then it would all start again. She’d be fourteen, helpless—sobbing.
The door slammed shut. She didn’t dare breathe until the sound of bare feet whispering over carpet told her he’d moved on. How had he missed the noise her heart made against her ribcage?
“I’m not enjoying this game anymore, Kitty Cat,” his voice moved away. Was he going back to the bedroom?
She let out a shuddering breath. How long would it be before he came back and took another look? She had to move, get to the attic. At least up there, she might have a chance. As if hearing her thoughts, his bare feet padded back to the linen cupboard.
“Look, I’m not going to do anything to you. I told you before, you’re too old from my tastes.” His voice rose and fell as if he were pacing.
She was bathed in sweat now, struggling to stifle her panicked breathing. Something brushed her calf. When she found the gun, there had been cobwebs but no spiders. Maybe whatever spun the web had been hiding under the shelf. As horrifying as it was, the small dark space had been almost bearable, until the possibility of spiders entered her mind.
“I just need you to come outside with me. Micky and Dumbo won’t try anything if you’re with me.” His voice grew louder, closer. “Once we get to the car, that’s it. I’ll let you go.”
The brush on her calf turned into a tickle. A black hairy leg exploring her skin? A tremor ran through her body. She clamped her teeth together in an effort to suppress the movement.
“This is all just a big misunderstanding.” He was farther away, she could tell by the muffled quality of his voice. “I promise, I’ll let you go.”
Part of her wanted to believe his lies. Anything to be free of the feeling of tiny legs crawling over her skin. But the look she’d seen in Felix’s eyes told her a different story. She’d seen that look before, a mixture of anger and greed, with one fuelling the other. That look didn’t lie.
She heard a crash as if a door had been flung open. He’d gone back to the bedroom, maybe planning on another search. Her mind cleared long enough to remember Micky telling her she could reach the attic through the last bedroom. Ignoring the feathery movement on her leg, Caitlin closed her eyes and pictured the upstairs layout. An L-shaped walkway. Doors on one side. Linen cupboard, last door on the left. She could see the door as clearly as if she were standing before it. Another door, not to the side but facing out.
Caitlin opened her eyes. The last bedroom was only a few metres from where she lay. Felix was still crashing around in the other room, searching. If she moved, there might be time to get to the other room before he came back. Caught in a tangle of indecision, her mother’s words came back to her. You show them what you can do. What other choice did she have?
Pulling the towels off her face and untangling her legs took less than a second. The riskiest moment would be when the door opened. She’d be on the floor, vulnerable. In the seconds it would take her to stand, Felix could be on top of her. I’ve done harder things. Nodding her head, Caitlin pressed her fingers against the bottom of the door and pushed.
Chapter Fourteen
“You’re never leaving here. I’ll bury you and dance on your grave.” Jace heard the words coming out of Blyte’s mouth and the world narrowed. He couldn’t think beyond what the man was roaring at his brother. At Caitlin.
His family were the target of Blyte’s rage, it didn’t matter what the man told him, as far as Jace was concerned, Blyte had to be stopped. Jace pumped his legs picking up speed. He’d take Blyte down and put an end to the games.
Without the lighter, the world pitched back into darkness. Another shot rang out, somehow louder in the blackness. Jace felt the strength go out of his legs and he stumbled. He hit the ground chest first with the metallic twang of the gunshot still reverberating in his ears. For a second his mind misfired and he thought the bullet had hit him. He only realised the shot came from inside the house in the seconds that followed.
Nothing made any sense. He scrambled to his feet and found himself caught in the blue-white brightness of Blyte’s torch. Jace raised an arm to block the glare. “What the hell is going on?”
“Is the back door locked or just barricaded?” The question took Jace by surprise. It wasn’t what he was expecting.
His mind jumped from the sound of the gunshot to Blyte’s question and then back to what he’d heard the man screaming. “Who’s shooting?” Jace wanted to ask more but his lungs were struggling to keep up.
“We need to get in. Felix has the gun.” Blyte pulled the light off Jace’s face and pointed it at the door. “It’s bolted shut. Can we get in round the back?”
Jace was still processing what Blyte had told him when he turned and headed around the right side of the house. Jace bounded after him, eyes fixed on the torchlight as they tramped through damp grass.
“Wait. The shots, what happened?” He kept trying to put events in order. Blyte said Felix had the gun. There were two shots.
“I’m not sure who’s been shot. We need to get inside.” Blyte spoke over his shoulder. “Is the back door bolted, do you know?”
Jace followed Blyte trying to think back to the moment he slipped out the back door. He didn’t remember anything about the bolt. When he and Eli shoved the fridge across the back door, they’d definitely bolted it. But, had Eli and Caitlin done the same?
His mind spun with questions as he watched Blyte stride around the rear of the house. For a few seconds, he was back in darkness. The world seemed much bigger at night, as if anything, even the unthinkable, were possible when the sun no longer shone. He turned the corner and spotted the light.
“Blyte.” He jogged to keep up with him. “Did he shoot them?”
Blyte strode up the steps to the deck, not bothering to stop. “I told you, I don’t know.” His face was in profile, hidden by shadows. Even so, Jace had the feeling Blyte was hiding something.
He followed Blyte onto the deck and noticed his flip-flops at the top of the steps. How long had it been since he squeezed out the gap in the back door? An hour? He kept seeing his brother’s face when he hit him. He could still feel the heat of the blow on his knuckles. I should have never brought them here.
“You’re bleeding.” Blyte shone the light on Jace’s chest. “There.”
Jace felt a moment�
��s confusion then looked down at himself. There was a gash on his chest, just above the torn neckline of his t-shirt. Probably landed on a rock when he fell. He realised the noose still dangled from his neck.
“Here.” Blyte took a step towards him. Instinctively, Jace stepped back. Blyte made a clicking sound with his tongue and took hold of the rope. “I’m surprised you got yourself out of this.”
His fingers worked on the knot and in less than two seconds the rope dropped from Jace’s neck. Jace ran his fingers around his throat feeling the raw, grazed skin. He felt lighter, as if the noose had compromised his breathing.
“Okay.” Blyte turned and faced the door. “I’m guessing you barricaded the door with the fridge.” Before Jace could ask how he knew, Blyte answered his question. “It would be my first idea.” He pointed the light at the door. “We need to get this thing open. If the bolt’s not in place, it should be manageable.”
As desperately as he wanted to get in, Jace still had questions. “Did you talk to them? My brother and sister-in-law, are they okay?”
Blyte seemed lost in his examination of the door. When he finally answered, his words were clipped. “Spoke to the woman, not sure about your brother but…”
Jace’s felt his muscles bunch as if his body expected a punch. “What about my brother?”
Blyte pulled his attention away from the door. He pointed the light down before he spoke so Jace couldn’t see his expression. “He’s been shot. Caitlin said he needed help so that tells us he’s still alive, but we need to get inside before anyone else gets hurt.”
Jace’s head was nodding as if it worked independently of his body. Eli was shot. The words went through his brain, but he couldn’t take in their meaning. In spite of the humidity in the air, his skin felt cold. How could any of this be happening? And beneath the shock, a shameful panicky squirm of guilt.
“I know you’re shaken up, but we need to move.” How could Blyte be so calm?
Jace knew he was to blame for what was happening to his family. For what had happened to his brother. He’d brought them here. He was the one who broke the law by copying the key and using the house, but didn’t Blyte also own some of the guilt? He felt a jolt of anger towards the man. He had the firearm. He was the one who’d taken the law into his own hands and stuck Felix in the cellar.
“Yeah, let’s go.” Jace suppressed the urge to grab Blyte by the front of his shirt and slam him against the door, use him as a battering ram.
They stood side by side, with Blyte ahead of Jace. The torch, still on, protruded from the back of Blyte’s pants like an eerie appendage. On Blyte’s count, they pushed. The door, heavy and dark, almost identical to the one at the front of the building, refused to budge.
“It’s not working.” Jace used his shoulder, knees bent and pushed.
“It’ll work.” Blyte’s voice was strained, like he was speaking through clenched teeth.
The tendons in Jace’s neck pulled so tight, he thought they’d snap. His knees groaned under the strain. Just when he was about to pull back, the door shifted and started to slide.
“Wait.” Blyte stood back and repositioned himself so his shoulder was higher up the panel.
Jace followed suit and both men rammed themselves at the door. Another few more centimetres and Jace could hear the fridge scouring across the stone. His shoulder and back burned with the effort. Sweat dripped off his hair in fat globs and ran into his eyes. Clamping his teeth together, he heaved once more and the door shifted.
Chapter Fifteen
Lights, dazzlingly bright—a blinding moment and then clarity. She’d been in the dark of the cupboard for what felt like hours, the glare took a few seconds to coalesce into actuality. Crawling commando style, elbow over elbow, Caitlin pulled herself out of the confinements of her hiding place. She could smell Felix’s presence on the walkway, earthy and sour.
The door to the last bedroom stood ajar, directly to her left and only metres away. Still on her hands and knees, she turned and swung the cupboard behind her. It closed with a soft click. Caitlin froze and watched the hallway. A dull thud, as if something large had hit a wall, came from the bedroom Eli chose.
If Felix were still searching down the hall, she might have time to make it to the last bedroom before he returned. Her mouth felt dry, as if all the moisture had been sucked out of her body. One more glance down the hall, then she was moving.
She crossed the space in three strides, her feet sliding soundlessly over the plush carpet. She slipped her body through the dark opening. Again, her eyes took a moment to adjust. The lights were off in the room. The only illumination came from the walkway lights spilling through the thirty-centimetre opening, washing the room in fuzzy grey.
“Where the fuck are you?” Felix was back on the walkway. His voice an angry, almost feminine shriek.
Caitlin moved deeper into the room and eased her way behind the door. She could hear his feet scrape across the carpet, the whoosh of his clothes. Pressing a hand to her chest, she tried to calm the thumping that threatened to give her away. If he came into the last bedroom and turned on the light, she was done. There’d be nowhere to go.
He stopped near the door. Ragged breathing filled the darkness. Caitlin didn’t dare blink. In her head, she counted off the seconds. After six, another rustle of fabric as he turned and walked away. Her knees trembled as she let out a long-held breath. I can’t relax, not even for a second.
There was no way of knowing how near or far Felix might be lurking. She had only two choices: keep going or stand behind the door all night. Micky said he’d get in. She believed he would. A huge part of her wanted to stay rooted to the spot and wait for him to rescue her. But what if he couldn’t get the door open? Or worse, what if Felix shot him? Now, like when she was fourteen, the only person she could depend on was herself.
Micky told her there was an access door in the ceiling, he even told her where to find the pole so she could hook the door open. The only problem was the lack of light. She could make out shapes, but without a little more illumination, it was almost impossible to find the door in the ceiling, let alone the pole.
Her only chance was more light. Caitlin inched forward until she was out from behind the door but still along the wall. Felix seemed to be pacing like a caged lion. Taking a look around the door would mean risking being spotted. She hoped luck was on her side and he was pacing away from the door. After a moment’s hesitation, she jutted her head forward and peered out.
Felix was nowhere in sight and there were faint bloody marks on the carpet leading from the cupboard to the last bedroom. Oh Christ. How had he not noticed the marks? Her luck wouldn’t hold, it was now or never. Caitlin swallowed and pulled the door open a little further. She swivelled her head, checking the ceiling.
“Yes.” The word came out before she could stop herself. Only a whisper of sound but to her ears, shockingly loud.
No matter, she’d spotted the access door and the ring. If she moved fast, she could be in the attic before he came back. You don’t know that. No, in truth she had no idea how long Felix would wander before returning. But dwelling on the possibility of being seen wouldn’t help her with what she had to do.
With the extra light, she could see the bed in sharper detail. Trying to keep close to the far wall and out of the doorway, Caitlin crossed the small room and dropped down. She got another waft of dust, this time mixed with nylon from the carpet. Chest pressed to the floor, she extended her right arm and began patting the area under the bed. Within seconds, her fingers found the pole.
The urge to laugh out loud swept over her. If her mouth wasn’t so dry, she might have given in and chuckled. Finally, things were going the right way. Caitlin scrambled to her feet and raised the pole above her head. Her heart hammered, now with a mix of excitement and fear. Better than just fear.
She took a few steps to the right and swiped at the ring, missing by at least ten centimetres. Damn. Standing just out of the sweep of light
from the door, she raised the pole over her head for another try. If Felix came back down the walkway, he’d have to turn just before the linen cupboard and then the last bedroom would be in sight. With the door further open, he might spot her even in the shadows.
Stop it. Don’t think about him. Focus. Arms trembling above her head, Caitlin took another swipe at the hook. Her dress flapped against her body like a damp sack. She could smell herself, bathed in sweat and blood. Maybe he’d catch her scent before he even saw her? The pole swayed just beside the ring and then caught.
This time she did laugh, a dry, brittle sound barely strong enough to make it past her throat. One firm tug and the access flap turned down. A set of aluminium steps unfolded with a gassy exhale followed by a metallic clang. Caitlin couldn’t resist snatching a look towards the door.
“I can hear you.” Felix’s voice rang out. “Stupid bitch.” He sounded close.
Caitlin sprang on the ladder, arms and legs spread like a spider monkey. Still clutching the pole, she clamoured up the rungs praying her legs didn’t choose this moment to give out. Once at the top, she stepped into darkness, dropped the pole then turned and grabbed the ladder’s side rail. The fold-out structure jumped but remained in place.
“Oh God.” Caitlin leaned out of the roof space until her head almost touched the metal rungs. The light snapped on, its glare jarring and sudden. Felix stood in the doorway, gun at his side and mouth open in a black circle of shock.
Hanging out of the ceiling gave her the extra reach she needed to grab the side-rail lower and get a better swing. This time when she pulled, the ladder contracted and slid upwards with a series of clanging snaps. Felix’s face appeared below, a look of panic on distorted his features. He opened his mouth but his words were cut off by the slap of the access door slamming shut.
Caitlin held the side-rail, crouched low and panted. Felix screamed abuse from below, but the sound was muffled. Any relief she felt was swallowed up by the knowledge that he wouldn’t give in until he caught her. And then what? Why didn’t he just go? Surely after what Micky did to him Felix would want to get as far away from the house as possible. Why hang around? Why keep after her? Maybe he could tell she was damaged goods? Maybe he can smell it on me, what Campson did.
