Something in the Dark

by Pamela Cowan

  “It’s always been the best part of the game,” he said, his voice growing soft now, a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.

  “Tell me about the game.” Austin asked softly.

  “Oh, he said with a chuckle, “the game. You know about the game. On some level you must. How many times were you so afraid that you blacked out and then when you woke up everything had changed, you were in a different room, you were in different clothes. Seeing your face, watching you try to pretend nothing was wrong. That was priceless. At first, making the arrangements to scare you was the best part of the game. Then finding out that once you blacked out I could control you, make you move around, sit down, lie down, and never remember a single thing that was when the real fun began. Once,” Muncie covered his mouth and giggled. “Once, I took your panties off and threw them in the garbage. I waited to see if you’d say anything when you came out of it but you never said a word.”

  Austin sensed that Muncie was hoping she would react. He wanted her angry, upset. He wanted to manipulate her emotions as easily as he had her body. She refused to give him what he wanted. She refused to show how deeply disgusted she was that her own brother had looked at her, had undressed her, maybe even touched her, how many times?

  “Don’t go getting weird ideas,” he said, and she realized something must have conveyed her thoughts. “There was no sexual stuff going on. You’re my sister, remember. And I’m no freaking pervert.”

  “I didn’t say you were. I just don’t get it. I don’t understand the game. I don’t understand where Brian came from. It’s a huge…”

  “Oh, Brian. That was a new twist. I never expected that. He did come looking for us. Your friend Mark was right about that. He was even right about how he found us, but Muncie is a much more unusual name than Austin. He found me first.”

  Austin didn’t know what bothered her most, Muncie’s cold arrogance or his years of deception. She wanted to scream, to throw and hit and let loose her anger. She held it all back. She had to hear this, had to know all of it.

  “Once he told me who he was,” Muncie continued, “and why he was so pissed off, it was easy to convince him you were the problem. I told him you’d ruined my life too, just like you’d ruined his. A few months feeding his drinking habit, stroking his ego, and letting him fall in love with me, and he would have done anything to you I suggested.”

  Austin winced at Muncie’s gleeful laughter. The way he reveled in her pain as he made one horrific revelation after another made the depth of his mental illness frighteningly clear.

  “Of course winding up a shish kabob was his own fault. People never listen. I told him how to take care of you. A few minutes in a dark trunk and you’d be out of it. He wanted to sleep with you. Actually he wanted to fuck your brains out. Not because he wanted you of course, but because it would have been sort of like being with me, which is what he really wanted.

  I promised him that he could do anything he wanted to you as long as he didn’t kill you before he put you in the hole. You had to be alive, and I was hoping conscious, when he locked you in. I knew that would be the only way to find out what would happen if I kept you in a dark place for a really long time. I’ve always wondered about that. Would you eventually have woken up, or would you have stayed lost in that place you go, forever?

  “Good old scientific curiosity?” she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm and disgust.

  “Why not,” he said ignoring her tone. “I never had the nerve to find out before because I was afraid it would mess everything up, end the game. Well, the game was over. You wanted me to move away to Portland. You were pushing and pushing to end the game. Fine,” he snapped. “So I had Brian put a microphone in the box and set it to record whenever there was noise. I figured I’d dig you up after a couple weeks and retrieve the tape and that would tell me if you ever came back out of it. Pretty clever, right?”

  “The night I got locked in the potting shed, was that the night it started?” Austin asked. She could feel her entire body trembling, not just from cold but from the waves of emotion that were crashing through her body, eroding her strength.

  “Sure. I knew Bunny wasn’t coming in ‘cause I’d made a date to meet her that night. I even talked her into calling and pretending she was coming down with something. After a little romp in the sack I asked her to come to the nursery with me. She told me about getting it on with your hired hand. That really pissed me off,” Muncie explained. “Here she was getting the best and she goes and gets knocked up, or so she thinks, by the village idiot. Then she has the audacity to complain to me about it. That’s when I started thinking it was time to teach the little bitch a lesson.

  After I killed her I heard you in the shed singing. That's when I got the idea to shut the door, drop the bar and cut the power. After a few minutes I rescued you." He laughed, amused by his own cleverness.

  "But why?" Austin asked.

  "Why?" What do you mean why? All you talk about lately is wanting me to leave. I decided it was . . . well maybe it was the right time for the game to change.

  "But I have this thing about prison. I thought about it a lot and with you wanting me to leave and all…well, maybe it was the right time for the game to change. When I thought about how much fun it would be to take care of the bitch and then set things up to convince you that you had done it. Now come on, you have to admit that was inspired.”

  “You are a total bastard and completely crazy,” Austin sputtered.

  “Stop being such a sister. I want to tell you the rest of it. See the really tricky part was getting Brian sober enough to shut off the power to your house at just the right time and then to wake you up. You running into the door and getting the black eye was bonus points. Very nice.”

  “And Janice?”

  “Janice wanted to tell you about us. She thought we were in love, but I convinced her you were too fragile to deal with the idea of her moving to Portland with me. She bought that one for a while, but then she got insistent and, well, you know how it goes. I always knew I’d eventually have to get rid of her. I didn’t want you to find out I was sleeping with her. It might look bad if every female I’m boning dies tragically, right?”

  Austin felt locked in place, her feet planted on the narrow strip of grass at the edge of the dock. The waves rolling slowly across the lake were making her feel dizzy, and she swayed.

  “No passing out, damn it. Enough of that. I haven’t even told you about Josh yet. I had just finished with Janice, and I was walking across the school grounds and toward my truck, which I’d cleverly parked a few blocks away, and I almost walked into him.

  “Kid was all over the place on that bike. Probably out scoring some weed or something, but I realized he’d seen me and that was not good. Once he found out about Janice, he’d start to wonder what I was doing there and maybe he’d figure it out. So being a nice guy, I offered him a ride home, and he took me up on it. I put his bike in the back but told him I had to stop at your place because you thought you'd forgot to lock the front door.

  "I got out and walked up to the porch and he got out to catch a smoke. I didn’t even have to trick him out of the truck. I picked up one of those obsidian rocks you have bordering the flower bed in your front yard. I fiddled with the front door, made some comment about sisters and what a pain in the ass they were. Then I walked up on him and hit him in the head a couple of times."

  Austin shuddered. His words tore through her colder than any wind.

  "He was pretty hard-headed though, Muncie continued. "and just wouldn't go down. He tried to grab ahold of me and I ended up having to wrestle him to the ditch and stick his face in the water and hold him under for awhile. Afterwards I shoved him in the culvert and pinned him there with his bike. I figured by the time he broke loose the water would have washed off any evidence I’d left behind.”

  The police had taken Austin’s box knife long ago, and she had no other weapon, but she launched herself at him. Surprised by her sudd
en rush, Muncie scrambled to his feet but stumbled over the cooler. They fell into the water together. Muncie struggled to swim to the surface, while Austin concentrated on holding him under. Her only fear was that she would give out first and die before she could drown him.

  He managed to push her away and reach the dock pulling himself up until his forearms were resting on the surface, pausing to catch his breath. She lunged out of the water, grabbed a handful of his hair, and pulled him back under. They swirled through the water, sinking fast. He tried to push her away, but she clung to him with arms and legs and teeth. The second time he managed to reach the surface he gasped out, “I’ve got Mark. He’s not dead yet, but…”

  “Liar.” Gasping, she bit down hard on his ear and dug her fingers into the soft skin under his jaw. He slid back under the water but only for a moment. With a burst of strength he managed to kick toward the dock, reach up to grab the edge and pull both of them out of the water. Bright red and white stars exploded in front of her eyes as he swung an elbow that clipped her on the side of the head, and she fell back in, swallowing a cup of lake water.

  This time, as he tried to pull himself onto the dock, she didn’t try to stop him. Coughing, half-choking, she paddled to shore and climbed out. Her second dunking in icy water had drained her and left her shivering from head to foot.

  “Where’s Mark?" she croaked.

  “Help me,” Muncie demanded through clenched teeth.

  With her sodden jeans like iron weights around her legs, Austin staggered to the end of the dock, took hold of a handful of Muncie’s shirt and pulled him along the side until he reached shallow water and was able to stand.

  “W-w-w-where?”

  “Get warm first,” Muncie said. He stumbled toward the house, water streaming from his clothes. Knowing he had the upper hand, Austin decided to go along, at least for the moment. Besides, her teeth were chattering and she knew if she didn’t get warm and dry soon, she wouldn’t be able to put up any kind of fight. She stripped to her bra and panties, feeling too vulnerable to be naked, and climbed into the shower. The hot water felt like a second chance, taking the chill from her fingers so that she could flex them again. When she was thoroughly warm, she stepped from the shower, dried off as best she could and slipped into Muncie’s old yellow jacket. Luckily it was long and reached nearly to her knees.

  Muncie came out the bathroom wearing a set of painters’ coveralls he’d left on the job.

  “Where is he?” Austin demanded.

  “A box buried somewhere. You know how I like burying things."

  “Bullshit. The police filled it in.”

  “Sure, they buried the one by the river, but I built two." He held up two fingers. “And they both have microphones.”

  “You sick fucking bastard.”

  “Now Austin. You know it’s not polite to use that kind of language. I’m afraid you’ve been naughty and will have to be punished.”

  With the full revelation of her brother’s insanity and increasingly aware that he was beyond reasoning, Austin felt sick and lightheaded. All she could think about was how she wanted him dead, the way you’d want a rabid dog dead, so it couldn’t bite anyone. But she had to be careful. Sometimes it felt like she was speaking to her brother, sometimes it felt like she was speaking to a demented and very naughty child.

  If Mark really was where Muncie said, if he were buried out there, then chances were no one would find him. He would die alone and in darkness. She had to trick Muncie into believing she was willing to play along. She had to learn where the box, and Mark, were buried. “You have to take me to him.” She pleaded. “If you do that I’ll go with you somewhere. We can keep playing the game.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “What choice do I have?” she reasoned with him.

  “You tried to kill me.”

  “Oh, I did not, you big baby. I was just playing with you. I know how much you’ve helped me all these years. Where would I be without you? I was kind of mad about your dumb game, but you don’t really think I’d try to kill you. You’re my brother.”

  “That’s right,” Muncie finally said, with a grin. “I guess it was fair play. But if you really want to save Mark you have to do one more thing to even things up.”

  “What?”

  He walked out into the driveway and Austin followed him. He gestured toward his truck. “Get in the box. That’s how I’ll take you to him.”

  “Go to hell.”

  “Get in the box or leave Mark in his. Show me you trust me, that you really aren’t still mad about the game and I’ll take you to him. Make up your mind.”

  Austin looked toward the lake. The sun was going down, the fading light leaving dancing sparkles on the water that stung her eyes.

  “Look, your friend is running out of time. If you run away and go to the cops you'll never figure out where the box is in time. He's already running out of air. So quit fooling around and get in the box.”

  Austin moved her gaze to the back of Muncie’s pickup. Her pulse quickened. The oversized metal toolbox would hold her. There was no pretending it wouldn’t. Muncie took his keys out of the cab of the truck and climbed over the tailgate into the bed. He unlocked the toolbox and began unloading it, setting tools and tool bags into the bed of the truck.

  “I don’t know that I should trust you, Muncie,” Austin admitted. “How do I know you won’t just bury me along with Mark?”

  “Because then the game would be over and I’ve decided I don’t want it to be.

  “How nice for you.”

  “Quit trying to make me mad, you’re just stalling. Get in the box.”

  Reluctantly, Austin obeyed. She climbed into the bed of the truck and stepped into the chromed steel toolbox.

  The only way she could fit was to lay on her side with her knees drawn up.

  “Now I know you think I’m a monster, but I’m really a very nice brother, see?” Muncie handed Austin a flashlight. She took it with both her hands, gratefully. As he swung the lid of the box shut she pressed the switch on the flashlight. Nothing happened.

  “I said I’d give you a flashlight,” Muncie said, laughing maliciously. “I didn’t say I’d put batteries in it. Nighty night, Sis. Oh, and by the way, I don’t know where the hell Mark is. Of course there was only one hole. Why would I need two? I can’t believe you fell for that. I am disappointed, little sister.”

  Austin lay still, clutching the useless flashlight. The darkness seemed to pulse around her. The sounds her brother made were growing distant and unimportant. She realized she was tired and not completely unhappy with this new twist in the game. Like an old woman whose friends and family have all gone on ahead, she felt ready. She had made peace with her mortality the moment before she jumped into the water at the fishing hole.

  Then a thought occurred to her. Had Muncie been lying when he said he had Mark, or was this new declaration the lie? What if Mark was buried in the ground, trapped in a small narrow place, just like this one, unable to see, unable to breathe?

  She had wanted to surrender to the darkness, to give up and slip into the familiar territory of her personal nightmare. There was a certainty that Muncie would not let her live to play the game as he’d promised. They both knew that the game had ended the instant she learned of its existence.

  After enough time had gone by, Muncie took a crescent wrench from the bed of the truck, and holding it upraised in his right hand, carefully lifted the lid of the box with his left. He found his sister curled up in the same position she’d been in when he closed the box an hour earlier. The worthless flashlight he’d given her lay between her feet where she’d dropped it. He set the wrench down and reached to take her arm, to help her climb out of the box on his command.

  She struck suddenly, slashing at his face. A bead of red pearls appeared across his neck, and there was a stinging sensation. He put his hand to his throat and felt warm liquid spurt between his fingers. He lurched back a step, keeping his hand
pressed hard against the gaping wound.

  “What did you do?” he asked, his voice quivering. Then, petulantly, “Why are you conscious?”

  “Because I decided not to be afraid anymore,” she spat. “Because I’m sick and tired of your game. I don’t want to play any more. Is Mark buried or not? Did you lie? Where is he?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t care. Why are you so worried about him? What about me? Look at me. Look what you did.” Blood continued to seep from behind his fingers and run in rivulets, staining the front of his coveralls.

  Austin climbed out of the box. The broken shard of the flashlight’s lens was still in her hand, caught in the fold of the duct tape she’d peeled from his jacket and wound around her fingers to protect them. She moved to the edge of the truck, sat down and swung her legs over, then dropped to the ground.

  “Where are you going?” Muncie demanded. “Are you going to get help?”

  Austin backed away.

  Muncie climbed over the tailgate. He kept his right hand pressed against the wound on his neck and used his left to brace himself as he used the rear bumper as a step. His knees buckled when his feet touched the ground, but he clung to the side of the truck and didn’t fall.

  His attention, which had been on Austin, swung away to the lake, and he let go of the truck and staggered toward the dock.

  When he stepped onto the dock it swayed. He lost his balance and fell to his knees.

  Austin ran to the dock and knelt beside him. “Please, tell me where Mark is.”

  “I don’t know,” Muncie said. He was never part of it.”

  “You lied?” Austin asked.

  “I always liked it here,” Muncie said, ignoring the question. “I drug the job out as much as I could.” He began to slump. Austin pulled him against her and put his head in her lap. “I liked the game. I wish we could have played it just a little longer.”

  “Me too,” Austin said, pushing the damp hair out of his eyes, stroking his face.