Darknet

by John R. Little

The barn was mostly empty. She’d expected to see little areas for cows or chicken coops or something like that. Being raised in a city her whole life, she wasn’t really sure exactly what to expect, but whatever livestock once lived here had left no trace.

  In its place was a refrigerator, a desk with a computer, and a bed.

  Sleeping in the bed was her husband.

  She stared and felt anger rush through her body. She held tightly onto the spade.

  The room was dark but he was clearly asleep. There was a blanket over him. She had seen the barn door when she walked over and knew that was the only way to get to him. The windows did not open. She tried to gauge how far the door was from where Tony was sleeping . . . maybe fifty feet.

  I can do it.

  She had no choice but to try. She knew that she really should be calling the police, but that wasn’t an option. Cindy needed to take care of this. Herself.

  The walk around to the barn door seemed to take forever. She didn’t have to hide because he was lying down, but somehow her feet felt like she was walking through a river of molasses. She wondered if today was the day she was going to die.

  The door wasn’t completely closed, which she was happy with. When she pulled it open, she moved it as slowly as possible in case it creaked. It looked to be as old as the rest of the barn and the hinges were rusty. She was happily surprised when she didn’t hear any sounds. She closed the door behind her.

  The place stank of old garbage. She tried to ignore it and tip-toed to the makeshift living area that Tony had set up. She could see the screen saver on his computer, a flashing dazzle of sweeping colorful images. It was the only movement. The barn was silent.

  She gripped the spade harder as she walked, thinking only of getting the revenge she needed.

  She could feel her heart beating.

  The temperature was very high, and sweat dripped from her hands. She took a tighter grip on the shovel.

  The monster on the couch was only twenty feet from her. She licked her lips and took a deep breath. She planned on rushing the last bit and stabbing him before he could move. There was always a chance he wasn’t asleep but just resting and if she hesitated, he might . . .

  But . . .

  She stared at the shape on the couch, now that she was close enough to see it more clearly. Tony’s head was actually a football with a dark piece of carpeting cut in the shape of hair sitting on top. Her mind tried to refuse to see the truth, but the murderous rush she had felt seemed to evaporate. She covered the remaining distance and lifted the blanket to reveal a bunch of pillows masquerading as Tony’s body.

  “Oh, no.”

  She knew what that meant: he’d been expecting her.

  Cindy turned but not quickly enough. He hit her hard on the side of the head and knocked her to the floor.

  And then he laughed.

  “You stupid bitch.”

  She cowered on the floor, totally dismayed and now suddenly fearful.

  “How did you know I was coming?”

  “None of your stupid business. You’re such a pathetic piece of shit. Get up.”

  “Fuck you!”

  Tony held his arm out, pointing a gun at her.

  “I have no reason to keep you alive one second longer, so if you have any plans on being around for a few more heart beats, get off your fat ass and stand up.”

  She looked at his eyes and knew he’d blow her away without a second’s hesitation. She stood.

  “What now?” she asked.

  A smile rose on his face and Cindy’s heart sank. Whatever he had in mind wasn’t good.

  Her face hurt from where he’d hit her, and she couldn’t help herself; she had to rub it.

  She kept her eyes on his face. The spade had flown out of her hands and was ten feet from her.

  “Kneel.”

  There was no point arguing. He had the gun still trained on her and it looked like he’d love to pull the trigger.

  She knelt.

  He lowered the gun and put it on a rickety table nearby.

  There would be no point trying to run. He was faster and stronger than her, and regardless, he could just grab the gun again.

  “You were always my favorite toy,” he said.

  He pulled her up by her blouse and then used both hands to rip it off her. She no longer felt any semblance of strength or courage. She knew what was coming. He’d hit her so many times before that the look in his eyes told her everything.

  Now, though, he didn’t have to worry about leaving marks. He could just beat the life out of her and not have to care. And that’s exactly what he was planning on doing. He was going to kill her with his bare hands by breaking every bone he could manage.

  She could see the excitement growing in his eyes, and she sank her head low with fear. The game was about to start and now, all she wanted was for it to be over.

  When she would be dead.

  He grabbed her throat and lifted her straight up. She had to get off her knees, but he kept lifting higher and she was up on her toes, barely able to breathe when he hit her with his other hand, a fist crushing her stomach. She went flying backward and crashed to the floor. The wind was knocked out of her and she couldn’t breathe. She gasped over and over but nothing was coming. She hit the floor with her fist as if that might somehow help.

  She could hear Tony laughing.

  After what seemed like an eternity, she was able to get small gulps of air inside her, and slowly, it improved to where she could breathe normally again.

  “Just the beginning, bitch.”

  “How did you know I was coming?”

  “How the hell did you find me?”

  “I used your fucking DarkNet.”

  He looked puzzled. “Really?”

  She stood up, but something was different.

  Cindy had once estimated that Tony had beaten her on at least 500 different occasions. Every one of those beatings had one thing in common: she just took it, because she had to. She needed to be the punching bag so that Avril would never become one.

  That wasn’t the case now.

  “How did you know I was coming?”

  “I just tracked your iPhone on iCloud. Easy peasy.”

  She didn’t know what he was talking about and didn’t care. All of a sudden she jumped forward and kicked as hard as she could. Her foot landed squarely in his balls, just as she’d planned.

  Tony yelled and bent over.

  She paused in amazement, but she didn’t let herself stop. She kicked him again, this time in the shin, harder even than before and he collapsed to the ground. She kicked him again and again, mostly to the head but also his stomach. He tried to grab her but he was too surprised and in too much pain to fight effectively.

  Then she caught her breath and grabbed the gun.

  He glanced over to her and said, “You don’t know how to use that. I’m going to kill you.”

  But he didn’t move from the ground.

  “No,” she said. “It’s me who’s going to kill you, you fucking monster.”

  She started to pull the trigger, when she heard a yell from behind her.

  “STOP, Cindy! Don’t do it”

  Cindy relaxed her finger but didn’t move her aim. She was still pointing directly at Tony’s head.

  She knew the voice. It was Suzanne McDermott.

  “Suzanne, please go away. Just leave us alone. I need to do this.”

  The detective had caught up with them and stood twenty feet from Cindy.

  “You can’t do this, Cindy. Come on, you know it’ll ruin your life.”

  “He’s already taken care of that.”

  “Cindy! Look at me!”

  In spite of herself, Cindy did glance over quickly, but turned her attention back to Tony almost immediately.

  Suzanne was pointing her own gun directly at Cindy and she said quietly, “I can’t let you murder him in cold blood. I just can’t. Let the courts have him.”

  Cindy hesitated. She k
new Suzanne was right and that she should let the justice system have him. But she also knew she wouldn’t be able to live with herself if she did that. Avril deserved more.

  She started to pull the trigger.

  “Cindy, don’t make me do this!”

  “You do what you have to.”

  Cindy shot. The blast knocked her hand back, even though she knew there would be some kind of recoil. She’d never shot a gun before, but she wasn’t far from Tony and maybe it was just dumb luck, but the bullet found its way true, and a small bit of blood spurted from the hole in his forehead. He was pounded back to the ground, clearly dead.

  Cindy, however, was still alive.

  She looked to Suzanne, who still had her gun pointed at her. She knew she deserved to die, and maybe she even craved that.

  Suzanne lowered her gun.

  “Oh, Cindy . . .”

  Cindy dropped the gun to the barn floor. “You do what you have to do,” she said again. “I’m ready for whatever comes.”

  Suzanne shook her head and then looked up to the roof of the barn. It looked like she was praying for guidance, but more likely she was just frustrated with the mess she had to deal with.

  She looked back to Cindy.

  “Okay, so here’s what happened. I came here but you shot him in self-defense. When I came in the barn door he was beating the crap out of you. You have evidence of that all over your face. Then before I could cover the distance you struggled for the gun and grabbed it from him and shot him. It was your only chance because you didn’t know I was coming.”

  “How did you know?”

  “Maria called me.”

  “Of course she did.”

  “Of course she did.”

  “Why?” asked Cindy. “Why don’t you just arrest me? I won’t argue.”

  Suzanne gave her a hug. “I remember that look in your eyes. The look that only a beaten woman has. I remember my mother. And I remember your little girl’s photo.”

  She shrugged.

  “You both deserved better.”

  Epilogue

  13 Years Earlier

  Cindy’s Wedding Vows:

  I promise to be the very best wife I can possibly be. I will cherish every day with you, love you with every breath I take, and will show you through my actions that you are my entire life.

  I will support your music because that is what brought us together, and I will enthusiastically work with you on whatever the future brings us.

  Our lives will be enriched by our joining in marriage, and I cannot wait to begin this journey with you.

  * * *

  Tony’s Wedding Vows:

  Cindy, you will be my wife, and I will love you as much in the future as I do now. I will treat you with kindness and generosity and we will be the happiest couple we know.

  You will never regret today, my darling.

  Never.

  John R. Little published his first short story in 1982 and hasn’t stopped since. He’s published a dozen books so far and has many more ideas finding their way to print. John won the Bram Stoker award for Miranda in 2009 and was nominated two other times (The Memory Tree and Ursa Major). His most recent books are Little by Little and Ursa Major.