Stalk Me

by Richard Parker

  Beth watched another hole appear the same time she felt something buzz past her head. “Tyler!”

  He was lying against her lap, his fingers still shakily reloading the rifle. Beth waited for the next shot and wondered whose it would be. But another sound beat them both. A police siren.

  Dust and plaster floated about the room. As Beth’s eardrums still throbbed from the gunshots, she watched Tyler’s hands frozen on the rifle. It got louder until they could hear the car’s engine. They held their breath and knew the gunman had to be doing the same.

  Soft footfalls on the stairs. He was on his way down them. Beth struggled to her feet and scrambled to the window.

  A hiss of gravel as the car and siren halted.

  Knowing he was downstairs, she felt safe enough to peer through the bullet holes in the glass.

  “Let me look.” Tyler was behind her.

  “Get back here, Tyler.”

  “Do as she says.” Beth squinted through the holes but, after her eyes accustomed themselves to the bright daylight, saw only the trees at the top of the bank. She quickly unlocked one window. She swung it in and then released the eye-and-hook catch on the shutter. Even if he was walking fast, he could still only be on his way around the side of the lodge. She gently pushed on the slats.

  A police car, lights revolving, was parked at the top of the bank and two officers with buzz cuts in black zip-up jackets and matching potbellies were concentrating on the wooden steps as they made their way down them.

  “Help! Up here!” Beth shouted.

  They looked up in unison, pausing a few steps from the bottom.

  “I’m Officer Breslin. One of the residents called us and reported a man with a firearm.”

  “There’s a man coming to meet you and he’s dangerous.”

  “Are you being held against your will?”

  “He’s on his way to you now!”

  Both officers put their hands to their holsters.

  “Just get us out of here!” Tyler shouted at her ear.

  Beth watched the gunman emerge from the side of the lodge in his socks, his arm extended. The officers turned from the window, their guns swiftly drawn.

  The gunman’s weapon discharged first and one officer slammed back against the steps, his hand still gripping the wooden rail. The second officer loosed off a shot, and Beth saw the gunman’s left shoulder dragged back by the bullet. His right arm remained rigid as he fired a second time.

  The second officer’s elbow shattered in a cloud of red, and then the material of his dark jacket jumped against his chest as another bullet pounded into it. He slid down the steps, his trousers riding up his white legs.

  The first officer was still trying to get to his feet. As he pulled himself back up by the rail, his neck burst, dark blood spattering his face and the steps, before the top half of his agonised expression was obliterated.

  The second officer came to rest at the bottom of the steps while the first finally released his hold on the handrail. His lifeless hand slapped against his waist and slid beside him. The sound of the gunfire still bounced around the trees.

  “No!” Tyler screamed.

  Without faltering, the gunman turned and shot at the window. Beth turned and threw herself against Tyler. The glass lampshade exploded above their heads and showered them with frosted fragments as they hit the floor.

  Chapter 76

  Mimic lowered his gun and turned from the window. Nobody would appear there for a good few seconds. He looked at the two officers’ bodies sprawled on the steps. No movement.

  He knew the pain in his shoulder was biding its time, and kept his arm rigid at his side. The situation was escalating out of his control, and time was now much more of an issue. Mimic had as long as it took for the station to get suspicious about them not checking in. He strode to the dead officer at the bottom of the steps and unclipped the radio from his belt.

  Mimic knew he now had to resort to the only other option open to him. They’d acquired a rifle, and trying to enter the room would be too risky. Even if they barely knew how to fire it, he didn’t want to be on the receiving end of any more stray bullets. It was time to implement the plan he’d suspected was inevitable the moment they’d locked themselves in the bedroom.

  He made his way back down the side of the lodge, listening to dispatch. It was a woman’s sleepy, sexy voice, Carolina accent. She’d want a report soon, and then she’d wake up. Maybe he could be all finished up before it was needed. He turned the corner, walked down the back of the property and headed to the utility hut. Amongst the weed killer, detergent and barbecue tools, he found a black bottle of charcoal lighter fluid. He also found an oversize lighter with “License To Grill’ written on it. As he shook it, he noticed the tiny bloody slits in his freckled hand that Mrs O’Doole had inflicted with her nail scissors.

  On his way through the kitchen, he resisted the temptation to eat any more of her pancakes and slipped back up the stairs. He still had to be quiet or they might take their chances through the window.

  Mimic stopped four steps from the top. He could see along the landing floor, and the bedroom door was still sealed. He put the bottle on the stair, pushed down on and opened the childproof lid with his good hand, then picked it up and aimed it. There was a stand further down with a bowl of potpourri in it. He squeezed and arced the jet so it landed there and soaked it. He had to be careful not to use the last drops of fluid, because the bottle was going to squeak and give him away.

  He stopped and shook it gently. Still a decent weight left. Mimic squirted it all over the runner rug and then at the wall, and doused it and the bullet holes there. The drywall would go up, no problem. The only thing he couldn’t be sure of was which exit they’d use.

  Mimic guessed the adults would test the water either way and tell the kids to leave via the route that seemed safest. He needed to start the fire as soon as possible. Get them panicked while he took up position. Perhaps he should seat himself in the patrol car and wait for them there. Back down to the cellar first, though. He played the jet over the door and then across the gap at the bottom, watched the liquid trickling underneath it.

  The bottle was nearly empty. He rolled it up the rug and it came to rest just outside the door. Mimic sparked the lighter and held it against the edge of the doused runner. A blue sheen rose from the fibres and travelled the length of it to the wooden stand. Damage limitation was the most he could achieve now. He had to secure one of the O’Doole boys to extract his password, burn the whole family in their lodge and remove Beth Jordan to dispose of elsewhere.

  Mimic turned to walk back down the stairs and stopped. He reached up to the smoke detector attached to the angled ceiling above him and unscrewed it from its position.

  *

  Beth lay on her stomach, the breeze from the open window wafting in fresh pine air and birdsong. Was he still training his gun on the window? The four of them were motionless as they listened. Tyler was lying in the same position beside her, staring at the backs of his hands. Mrs O’Doole was still against the bed, cradling Kevin.

  “Are they dead?” Mrs O’Doole mouthed.

  Beth nodded and tried to halt the replay of the officers’ bodies exploding on the steps. “Do you think they left the keys in the car?” she said to Tyler, unsure of how the deaths of the men outside had affected him. He suddenly moved and grabbed the rifle.

  Mrs O’Doole sat up and whispered. “Where is it?”

  “Top of the steps.” Tyler loaded the rifle, his second spent shell rolling and pinging against the wall. “If we can’t find the keys, we can hotwire it.”

  Mrs O’Doole blinked once but dismissed the temptation to quiz him further about this ability.

  Beth sat up. “We could see if the officers have them on our way up the steps, but we might not have time.”

  “The car will at least give us some cover.” Tyler moved on his buttocks back to the wall beside his mother.

  Mrs O’Doole shook her head. �
�We shouldn’t even think about trying to reach the car while he’s still out there. Here we have a weapon and walls to protect us. This is the safest place.”

  *

  Mimic took his napkin out of his pocket and wiped at the edges of his mouth.

  “Unit 22, where the hell are you?” It was the sleepy female voice on the police radio.

  He placed his mouth against it so his response would be distorted. “Unit 22.”

  “What is your position?”

  He repeated the process. “We’re clear.”

  “Say again?”

  “We’re clear.” It wasn’t going to work.

  “Unit 22, is that you?”

  “Who else?”

  No response.

  He belched and tasted Mrs O’Doole’s pancakes. Time was running out. But the fire was about to precipitate their upstairs escape, and as soon as he heard movement, he would be ready to respond. He waited, listening for vibrations in the lodge.

  Chapter 77

  Kevin was the first to spot the smoke. He pointed at the wisps crawling up the wall from the bullet holes.

  “Jesus. He’s set a fire.” Tyler sat bolt upright.

  Beth exchanged a look of resignation with Mrs O’Doole. “He’s going to expect us to escape through the window and will probably be waiting for us to climb down.”

  “If he’s lit a fire on the stairs, it’s going to be our only way out.” Mrs O’Doole lifted Kevin away from her so she could uncoil her legs. She knelt in front of him, took him by the shoulders and addressed his terror-stricken expression. “We have to be ready to run.”

  He shook his head.

  “Listen, Kevin, we have no choice. This whole room will be on fire soon.”

  Beth tugged the duvet off the bed and started removing its cover. “Don’t stand in line with the window. We can tie this and the bottom sheet together and dangle it out.”

  “So he can shoot us off it.”

  “Tyler!” Mrs O’Doole narrowed her eyes at him.

  “It’s exactly what he’s expecting us to do,” Beth said grimly. “Let me take a look in the attic.”

  Mrs O’Doole yanked at the bottom sheet. “If there’s fire below, we don’t want to get trapped up there.”

  “Didn’t you say there’s another hatch over the landing.”

  “Yeah. But what good is that going to do us?”

  “At least we could get out onto the landing without having to open that door. If we move the chest now, he’ll know we’re making a run for it down the stairs.”

  Mrs O’Doole started knotting the sheet to the duvet cover. “He’s probably made sure we can’t get down that way, anyway.”

  “Let me check. If there’s a way out up here–”

  “I’ve told you there isn’t.”

  “At least let us try, Mom. I’ll take a look.”

  Mrs O’Doole gripped Tyler’s arm as he went to get on the mattress. “You stay here with the gun. He still might come through that wall.”

  He turned to Beth. “Come on, I’ll boost you.”

  They both got on the bed and Beth slid her foot into his interlinked fingers.

  “One, two...”

  On three, he raised her to the ceiling, and she punched her palms against the hatch. It slid sideways, and Tyler teetered as she scrabbled for the edge.

  “OK?”

  She felt him push against the soles of her boots and crawled into the darkness. There was a strong aroma of wood lacquer. Beth looked down into the bedroom at Tyler.

  “There’s a pull-cord for the light above the hatch.” Mrs O’Doole leaned in and gestured.

  “I should go up there, Mom.”

  “Stay where you are.”

  Beth half straightened until she felt the beams against her scalp. Cobwebs stroked her face. She waved her hands about until she touched the string. The end of the pull struck her in the chest and she trapped it there, gripping the plastic and quickly yanking it down.

  Strip lights flickered on. Mrs O’Doole was right. The roof was made of solid beams. No window or hatch. Only a small amount of daylight coming through a grille that was no bigger than a place mat. There were a few crates skulking in one corner, but otherwise the considerable space was empty. Beth headed towards the landing side, padding carefully across the floorboards. She found the hatch with a telescopic ladder clipped to the top of it and, as she slid her finger into the ring, felt a warm draught from below.

  Marcia O’Doole looked at the wall behind her. Black patches were blistering the ivory wallpaper and rapidly spreading upwards to the coving. The blaze on the landing had to be intense. She looked at the open window and the sunshine outside.

  Sooner or later, they’d have to lower the sheets and take their chances. Maybe Tyler could cover them with gunfire from the window while she took Kevin down. But even if they reached the ground, they still had to make it up the steps to the patrol car.

  Beth still hadn’t opened the hatch. What if he’d pre-empted this move and was waiting on the stairs with his gun trained on it? She ran back to the opening she’d entered by and looked down at the two faces there. “Drop the sheets from the window and let me know when you’ve done it. Then I’ll open the other hatch.”

  Mrs O’Doole and Tyler nodded uncertainly.

  “Maybe we can distract him. Be careful.”

  They left her looking at the stripped mattress. Suddenly it was slid out of view leaving a square of darker oatmeal carpet. She assumed they’d moved it nearer the window so they could secure the sheet around the slats in the end.

  Beth waited, crouching and bracing herself for gunfire, but none came. Their two faces returned and nodded again. Beth crept over to the second hatch. He hadn’t started taking shots at the window. Was he in position on the bank? If he was, he wouldn’t give away his presence there yet, wouldn’t start firing until at least one of them tried to climb down. Or perhaps he was still in the house.

  She knew she didn’t have time to delay any further. Beth grabbed the ring and heaved the door, leaning swiftly back from the opening as it hinged up. Fire found fresh oxygen; a thick streamer of orange flame sucked through, scorching the ceiling above. She waited for it to ignite the beams. To her relief, the column quickly weakened to short spikes at the aperture before it dropped completely out of sight again. Acrid grey smoke poured upwards and started to fill the attic, though. Beth clamped her hand over her mouth and fought back a cough. She couldn’t give her presence away if the gunman was nearby.

  Beth leaned slowly over the opening, the draught of heat almost unbearable, and looked down at the blazing carpet runner below. The house popped and cracked amidst the heavy rumble of the fire. From her angle, she couldn’t see down the stairs. She moved to the other side of the hatch and quickly dipped her head over the edge so she could get an upside-down view of the landing.

  She squinted against the fumes, felt her scalp and eyelids tighten. Huge flames covered the wall of the bedroom, their tips gradually creeping across the ceiling. The stairs were clear and the other side of the landing hadn’t yet caught fire. Beth quickly and quietly sealed the hatch to prevent any further smoke filling the space and ran over to the bedroom side where two faces were waiting for her.

  She waved away the smoke so she could see them and allowed herself to splutter. “I couldn’t see him on the landing. Which rooms are on the opposite side?”

  “That’s the boys’ bedrooms and the bathroom,” Mrs O’Doole said, and looked behind her nervously.

  She blinked the water out of her eyes. “Do they all have windows?”

  Mrs O’Doole nodded.

  “We could try to climb out the other side of the house.”

  “If he hasn’t locked them...” Tyler thought aloud. “It’s got to be better than trying our luck out this window, though.”

  “I won’t use the telescopic ladder. He might hear me. I’ll drop down on the landing and try the handles. If it’s safe, I’ll bang on the door twice. You ca
n cover yourself with blankets and cross the landing into the other room.”

  “Let’s do it,” Mrs O’Doole said. “But what if they are locked?”

  “I’ll have to make a run for it downstairs.”

  “No. We’ll try to open this door.”

  “If you do that, the fire will quickly spread into the room.”

  “It’s not going to matter. We’ll all have to leave by the window then.”

  “No. If you don’t hear my knocks, I’m heading downstairs. The fire hasn’t spread down them yet.”

  “He could be waiting for you.”

  “If he’s in the house... I’ll bang once. That’ll be your signal to climb out of the window.”

  “If you’re able to.” Mrs O’Doole paused. “Take the rifle.”

  Even though she’d offered it, Beth knew from her hesitation that Mrs O’Doole didn’t want to give it up. She couldn’t blame her. It would be the only thing she’d have to defend her children with. “I can’t carry it and climb down from the hatch.”

  Tyler held it aloft. “It has a shoulder strap.”

  “No. Just listen for two bangs on the opposite door. As soon as you hear them, pull the chest away and be ready to make a break for it.”

  The two faces below shared the pursed expression, as if they knew it would be the last time they’d see her.

  Chapter 78

  Beth returned to the second hatch. The ladder was red hot and so was the ring. Tugging the door back and briefly standing back from the intensified updraft, she estimated she could quickly turn her body in the opening, hang from the edge and only be about two feet from the floor. Her impact wouldn’t be too heavy, and it made up her mind that it would be quicker than trying to use the ladder. She would be dropping onto the blazing carpet, but hopefully she could hit the ground running and quickly open one of the doors on the other side and barge into the room. Then it would be a case of banging it to signal the O’Dooles.

  For a brief second, the reality of what she was about to do froze her there. The logistics of the task had briefly misdirected her from the notion of dropping into flames and the likelihood of having to face the gunman alone. But the increasingly black smoke rolling up at her told Beth she had little time for second thoughts. She couldn’t even take a breath before dropping down. Beth wouldn’t get a lungful of fresh air until she made it into one of the other bedrooms, and even that wasn’t guaranteed.