Two Little Lies (Seasons of Deception)

by Adam Kunz

  The next thing I hear is the sound of the tires squealing. Brent’s arm flexes while he maneuvers the wheel to move in reverse. He shifts the car into drive and speeds off down the road, back toward the house.

  “Who the fuck was that?” Tee asks, his voice full of panic.

  “I don’t-”

  “It was Robbie Jameson,” I say, cutting Brent off.

  I’m still in a daze and semi-frozen with fear while staring at the ax stuck in the windshield. Wind howls through the cracked glass, and as we hit every bump in the road, it seems like the window might give way at any moment.

  “You mean the guy that attacked you? That was him?” Tee asks, sounding even more terrified than before.

  “There’s no way, Laney,” Brent interjects, trying to split his focus between me and the road.

  “It was him. I know it. The ax, the coat, and the fucking ribbon around the deputy’s neck. He’s found me. I don’t know how he did, but he did,” I ramble, allowing myself to become enveloped with all the emotions running through me.

  “What are we going to do?” Tee asks.

  “We’re going to go back to the house, get everyone in the truck, and then get the hell out of here. That’s what we’re going to do,” Brent replies matter-of-factly as he begins to speed up.

  “I should call and warn Nia,” Tee mentions, pulling out his phone. “Damn, my cell seems to be going haywire. I thought I fixed it earlier. Laney, can you call her?”

  “Of course,” I reply, taking out Jared’s cell from my pocket. Punching in her number, I hit dial and listen to the ringing on the other line. The instant I hear her answer, I start to talk, but then remember her voicemail is one of those joke ones where it sounds like she answers, but she’s not really there. Hanging up, I say, “It went to voicemail.” Trying once more, I get her voicemail again. I decide to leave her a message this time, telling her to get everyone together and wait by the front door for us to pull up.

  “Try Colton,” Tee blurts out.

  I dial in his number and after three rings, he answers, but I rush to speak first. “Colton, thank God! Go get Nia and Jared and wait for us by the front door,” I say and wait for his response. There isn’t one, though. All I’m met with is labored breathing that sounds muffled and distant from the phone. “Colton?” I ask, and then the call drops.

  I bring the phone away from my ear and just stare at it in my hands, not saying anything.

  “What happened?” Tee asks when I don’t give an update.

  “I’m not sure. All I heard was breathing on the other end before it cut out,” I reply, panning over to him with a worried stare.

  “Shit,” is all he gets out. I can tell he’s seriously scared that something’s happened to the others, and so am I. “We need to get to the house right now.” The anger in his voice seems to be masking the fear he’s feeling.

  Please let everyone be okay.

  When we pull up to the house, the lights are still on. Brent and Tee immediately throw open their doors once we’re parked and we all hurry from the vehicle toward the front porch. I notice that the barn is wide open, but I’m too focused on getting to the house to really let it register.

  “Nia, open up! It’s us, hurry!” I yell at the top of my lungs while continuing to pound on the front door along with Brent and Tee.

  I’ve never been more relieved to hear the sound of a door unlocking in my whole life. The instant it starts to open, we push through, and I’m the first one to see Nia. She’s standing there frightened all to hell, waiting for any news that we have to report.

  “We found the deputy’s car down the road. Deputy Miller’s dead and Deputy Randall’s missing. It’s Robbie Jameson, Nia. He’s here.” When his name leaves my lips, the terror reflected in her face intensifies.

  “Where are Jared and Colton?” Tee asks, making Nia focus on his face by cupping hers in his hands and not allowing her to shut down.

  “They went to the barn a few minutes ago to get something to defend us with. They said they’d be right back, but they haven’t returned yet. Oh my God, do you think something’s happened to them?” Her voice grows even more panicked as she looks over at me.

  “Okay, we’re going to all get into the truck and then drive over to the barn, but we’ve got to go now,” Brent announces while moving toward the front door.

  We’re all startled when the lights suddenly go out. Standing in almost pitch black, I go to grab Jared’s phone in my pocket to get some light, but I fumble with it and it falls to the ground with a thud before sliding off somewhere.

  “Dammit,” I hiss.

  “What was that?” Brent asks through the dark.

  “I dropped the damn phone and can’t see where it went,” I answer, feeling around for the nearest person to cling to. Brent lets me know I’ve bumped into him before grabbing a hold of my hand. I reach my other hand out in the direction where I remember Nia and Tee standing, and I hear Nia squeak, asking if that’s me before taking my hand.

  A few moments pass before my eyes are able to adjust to the lack of light. When I start to see the outlines of everyone’s faces, I begin to feel more at ease. That feeling is quickly dashed after the gravity of our situation begins chipping away at me.

  Loud, furious banging sounds at the front door, causing me to inhale deeply. The pounding is quickly followed by a familiar voice yelling through the door.

  “Please let me in! This is Deputy Randall, I need your help! Someone’s after me and I’m unarmed. Please open up,” she shouts while continuing to knock wildly.

  Tee rushes over to the front door when we all hesitate. He peers out the peephole before flinging open the door, showing a frightened Deputy Randall slouched over slightly and breathing heavily.

  “Thank you-”she begins to say, and then is clocked in the face with the butt-end of the ax in Robbie’s hands.

  She falls off to the side, leaving Tee standing toe to toe with Robbie and his black ski mask. Tee tries to slam the door closed, but Robbie sticks his foot through the opening, stopping the action. We all rush the door and I begin stomping on Robbie’s foot with my heel in order to get him to retract while Brent and Nia help Tee push. The moment his boot slips out from between the door, Tee pushes it closed with his back, using his legs for extra support.

  “Hurry, lock the door,” Tee cries out while still propping himself up against it. Brent and Nia help hold the door shut as well. I turn the lock above the door’s handle and then try to slide the bolt lock into place, but it gets jammed. I curse it and try to jiggle it loose. We hear a few solid strikes to the outside of the door from Robbie’s ax, and the sound of splintering wood fills the foyer.

  “Got it!” I exclaim, finally able to move the piece of metal into place.

  A sudden loud crack against the door causes me to jump back. I hear a painful groaning sound from Tee as a look of pain fills his face.

  “Tee, baby, what’s wrong?” Nia cries, placing her hands to his chest while trying to get him to respond to her.

  A trickle of blood runs down the corner of his mouth and another groan leaves his lips. “Run,” is all he’s able to muster.

  After the sound of wood splitting resonates from the door, Tee’s legs give out, causing him to slump into a sitting position on the ground. There’s a gaping hole left in the door where he was posted up, and a blood smear runs down in the same motion he slid. Tears fill my eyes as I look at Nia going into hysterics over what’s happened. She’s shaking him and trying to get him to respond to her, but nothing is working. Nia just keeps crying out for Tee as she holds him in her arms, rocking back and forth. My heart shatters, and I can’t help but think this is all happening because of me.

  Brent grabs my arm and all I can say to him is, “I did this.”

  “No, you didn’t,” he states forcefully. “But we need to move, now.” He turns to Nia and lifts her off the ground, but she’s doesn’t go easily. “Nia, come on. We’re going to die if we stay here, all rig
ht? We need to go!”

  The handle on the front door begins to rattle like someone’s trying to get in. I take Nia’s hand and pull her close to me when she fights against Brent. The sound of the ax slamming into the front door sends us running up the stairs to the second floor. Brent flings open the door leading to the stairwell up to the attic and guides Nia and I inside. After locking the door behind us, we hurry up the stairs with Brent leading the way.

  Reaching the top, we look out into the attic and see mostly darkness. Moonlight shines in through the oval window fixed in the center of the back wall, illuminating a small portion of the space.

  “Nia, do you still have your cell phone?” I ask in a panic, reaching out for what I think is her arm.

  “Yeah,” she sniffles.

  “We can use that as our flashlight up here,” I state while hearing her dig around for her phone.

  Her face suddenly lights up from the cell’s screen, casting an erratic shadow up into the rafters because of her trembling hands. She turns on the bright LED flashlight app before handing it over to me. I move the phone’s light to face out into the attic and notice that all the floorboards have been pulled up and are resting against the side walls. The wooden support beams are visible, and patches of pink insulation are stuffed in the spaces between them, covering the sheets of drywall underneath.

  “Dammit,” Brent mutters under his breath. “I forgot the attic was being worked on.”

  “What now?” I ask, my question echoed by Nia.

  “We need to get out that window in the back,” he answers, pointing to the oval pane of glass. “There’s a landing just outside that we can walk on and then make our way to the roof. It might be a little tricky with the attic being like this though.”

  “And what are we going to do when we get up to the roof?”

  “I haven’t got that far. I’m kind of winging this here. I just want to put as much space between that psycho and us as possible,” he replies, and then begins moving toward the window. “Stay on the beams and don’t step anywhere else.”

  I give Brent the phone to light our way since he decides to go first. He takes my hand and pulls me onto the beam he’s currently balanced on. I reach back for Nia’s hand and she grabs it for stability while mounting the long, thin piece of wood that stretches the whole length of the attic. Every step we take, the beam moans under our feet.

  “Fuck,” Brent says, stopping suddenly after a loud creak sounds from the part of the wood he’s stepping on.

  Nia bumps into me because I have to stop quickly to gain my balance. “What?” I ask.

  “I just remembered there are some serious weak spots in the wood. I just hope it’s not this main board,” he replies, peering back at me with an uncertain look in his eyes. “We have to keep moving.”

  He takes another step and the beam groans and bends while the drywall sheeting to the right of it bows under our weight. We freeze in place. Nia clings onto me when she stumbles. I hear her whimper, still reeling after losing Tee. I can’t even begin to imagine how she’s feeling right now.

  Brent tugs on my hand as he starts to move again with even more caution this time. Passing by a large section of drywall and insulation to our left, Brent grabs for one of the supports running overhead to keep him balance. My hands remain on his waist as Nia’s stay affixed on mine.

  We take another step toward the window. As we do, the last sound we want to hear resonates loudly throughout the attic.

  Thwack!

  Thwack!

  Thwack!

  Robbie’s repeated swings at the attic door with the ax cause fear to spring up into my throat. I can feel Nia shaking as she lets out another whimper into my shoulder. We all begin to move at a quicker pace, showing no regard for our safety.

  I feel Nia pull hard on my waist. A gasp escapes her lips as she tries to regain her balance after her foot slips. Her gasp turns into a full-blown scream when she fails to keep steady. She jerks even harder on me, favoring our left side. I get a quick glance at her just before I’m knocked off balance and both of us fall over. I hear Nia crash through the large sheet of drywall.

  Flailing my arms out, I try to grab for Brent’s hand, but he’s just out of my reach. He cries out my name as I slam hard onto one of the sheets of wood laying off to the side of the attic. A huge, guttural breath heaves from my mouth as the wind is knocked out of me.

  Brent calls out to me. I look up to see him standing there with his arm wrapped around one of the vertical support beams for leverage. His one hand is lazily pointing the phone’s light in my direction so he can see me, while his other hand is reaching out to grab for mine. I roll over slightly to peer into the giant hole next to me. Through the shredded insulation and broken drywall, I see can see nothing but the dark of the room below. I cry out Nia’s name, but get no response. I wish I could see if she’s all right, and my gut churns at the thought of losing her. I sob out her name again, but still nothing.

  “Give me your hand, Laney. We can’t help her right now,” Brent says, extending his out to me.

  “We can’t just leave her,” I cry, tears pooling up in my eyes.

  Our attention is drawn to the attic stairs when we hear a loud grunt followed by a resounding chop into the wooden door.

  “Please, Laney. Hurry!” he says, stretching even farther out to grab my hand.

  I take his hand and struggle against the pain in my back to bring myself to stand up. He pulls with more force and I use my legs to springboard myself forward, stumbling into his arms. I try to regain my balance. Brent braces me for a moment until I’m steady enough to continue.

  With my feet firmly planted on the beam, we start moving along again until we reach the far window. Loud footsteps sound behind us, stomping up the attic stairs. I glance back and see an outline of a shadowed figure standing there, letting out low, growling breaths. Every hair on my neck stands on end as a whine builds in my throat.

  Brent grabs my arm and brings my focus back to the open window. It’s a swivel style, and when it’s open, there’s only a small space to squeeze through. Brent props it up with his left hand and assists me through it with his right. When I climb outside, I jump to my feet on the small landing before spinning around to return the favor, holding the window open for him. As Brent begins to slide through the tiny opening, his jacket snags on the edge of the frame.

  “I’m stuck,” he yells, trying to reach back through the opening in order to unhook himself.

  Peering over Brent’s shoulder, back into the attic, I can’t see much, but I hear Robbie making quick work of the trip across the floor beams. Wood creaking and moaning fills the attic, which doesn’t even seem to be affecting his movements. His apparent reckless abandon causes me to enter panic mode and I begin wrestling with the area where Brent’s coat is caught, attempting to dislodge it. A fearful whimper leaves my lips as I continue to tug while Robbie’s loud footsteps continue to resonate from inside.

  “I’m loose,” he yells.

  I reach for Brent’s hands to help pull him out, but then am frozen in place when a heavy snarl sounds from behind him. My frightened eyes pan up to meet Robbie’s black ski mask showcased by the moonlight beaming through the open window. Brent looks at me, terror streaming through his face, and a feeling of helplessness pinches me in the gut. I seize his hands, but they slip from my grasp as Robbie pulls him back through the window with great force, causing it to slam shut. Trying to open the window again, I realize it can only be swung open from the inside.

  No!

  I begin banging on the window while crying out for Brent. I watch with my heart slamming in my chest as he tries to fight off Robbie while remaining perched on the wooden beams. Brent ducks under an ax swing and gets in a few shots before Robbie gains the upper hand with a swift punch to his stomach. He follows it up with a smack to the face with the blunt end of the ax, sending Brent into a darkened area of the attic where I can’t see him anymore.

  Robbie snaps his h
ead to look over at me, a sick grin appearing through the slit in his mask. I back away from the window when I see him stomping toward it and eating up the space between us.

  I scream as the ax smashes through the glass, barely missing me as I dive out of the way to the edge of the awning. Clawing my way to my knees, I turn my head to see Robbie struggling to remove the ax from the destroyed pieces of window. He starts thrashing about with the weapon to clear out the remainder of the glass. I shove myself to my feet before maneuvering around the edge of the house.

  The landing I’m on ends with a steep drop, and I have to come to an abrupt stop before I tumble right off. There’s a section of the roof right behind me that slopes down to where I’m standing, and I carefully make my way up it, trying to steady my feet with each step. I’m finding it hard not to slip on the snowy shingles. Losing my footing, I fall and begin to slide, but then catch myself between the chimney stack and a sharp architectural peak in the roof.

  I take in a few deep breaths while lying on my back, realizing I barely saved myself just then. Straddling between the chimney and the peak, I try to turn myself around in order to attempt climbing again. I dig into the shingles with my heels, and then use the slipperiness of the snow to my advantage by sliding to the side and turning over with a spinning motion of my body.

  Shimmying over to the left, I position myself in front of the chimney stack and use it to make my way onto my hands and feet. I slide on the slushy snow remnants on the roof again, but this time I hold my ground. When I push off of the chimney, I lunge for the middle ridge that runs the width of the roof where it comes to a point, and grab on for dear life. I struggle to pull myself up to the ridge and have to dig deep to find the strength to do it.

  Finally, I’m able to bring my head up far enough to peer over the roof. When I do, smoke fills my vision. As I look down onto the front yard, I’m horrified to see the vehicles parked out there consumed by a fiery display.