by Adam Kunz
Shit!
Lifting my right leg over to the other side of the roof, I straddle the peak of the ridge and try to remain balanced. A loud crack has me turning to look back the way I climbed up. Robbie’s pulling himself up onto the roof after embedding his ax into it, using its handle for leverage. I can hear his raspy breathing as he attempts to climb up after me. Thankfully, the snow is making it just as difficult for him to climb up as it was for me.
An idea hits me and I scoop up some snow residue resting on the roof, packing it into a firm ball. I fling the snowball in his direction as hard as I can, nailing him right in the chest. He stumbles back, but still retains his hold on the ax. I gather more snow and toss another one, but this time he’s ready and dodges it with little effort.
“Come and get me, fucker!” I yell.
Swinging both legs to the other side of the roof, I keep my grip on the middle ridge until I can get my footing. It takes a moment to become stable. I see Robbie continuing to make his way up the roof and realize he’s dangerously close now.
I shriek as he reels back and swings down with the ax, planting it right where my hands are holding on. I release my grip and slide down, scraping along with my fingers the whole time in an attempt to stop myself from flying off the edge. My arms and legs flail as I try to stop. Instead, I watch in horror as my legs slip off the roof followed by my waist, leaving my arms and hands as my last resort.
I spin quickly, just as my chest passes the roof’s edge, and attempt to grab the metal gutter lining the house. Taking in a deep breath and holding it, I clasp my fingers around the sturdy gutter. A gasp escapes my lips when the weight of my body suddenly becomes fully supported by my arms.
“Oh my God, oh my God,” I wail, trying to hold myself there while dangling from the roof. My body becomes heavier and heavier as I hang here. Seconds feel like minutes.
Damn my lack of upper body strength.
Looking down, I see the awning that rests over the front door. I can’t tell how far of a drop it is from here though. The only thing that crosses my mind is that I need to jump right now because Robbie is right behind me. I close my eyes, let go, and take a drop of faith.
For a moment, I feel weightless as I fall to the level below. The instant I crash down, it hits me like a ton of bricks to the chest. I groan, wondering if anything’s broken. There’s no intense pain as I make my way to my feet, so I dust the snow off my jacket and pants while looking back up at the roof. Robbie’s standing there. Even though I can’t see his face because of the ski mask, I know he’s glaring at me.
I check how far it is down to the ground from where I’m standing, and come to the quick conclusion that it’s jumpable. Glancing back up to the roof, I no longer see Robbie-he’s gone.
You’ve got to jump now, Laney.
Staring down at the ground, I try to find a place where the snow is piled up so it might cushion my fall. I see a mound off to my left side and leap off the awning, landing onto the frozen ground with a thud. Looking back to the front porch, I see Deputy Randall still lying there, unconscious. For a split second I wonder if she might have a gun on her, but then I remember her saying earlier she was unarmed.
When I hear footsteps and things crashing around inside the house, I take off toward the barn. I’m hoping that I’ll find something to defend myself with. The snow makes it difficult to move my feet. I find myself high-stepping to keep up my sprint.
I peer back at the house over my shoulder, and see Robbie on the front porch watching me. He starts moving in my direction and alarm completely envelopes me. It feels like I’ve gotten a second wind. My legs pump harder and I swing my arms in front of me, trying to gain more momentum behind each lunge forward.
Reaching the barn, I pass through the open door and yank it closed. My eyes scan the area for any sign of farm equipment. All that fills my vision, though, are stacks of hay bales and the three snowmobiles. Without knowing where the keys are, the snowmobiles are useless.
“What kind of fucking barn doesn’t have tools in it?” I growl, searching frantically for any kind of farming implement.
The ladder Jared used earlier to reach the loft catches my eye. I scramble up the rungs, feeling like too much time has passed. Robbie can’t be far behind me. When I get to the second level, I crouch down and begin stealthily weaving around the bales of hay to find a place to lay low.
I bite back a squeak when the barn door flies open, slamming hard against the side of the structure. Spinning around, I see Robbie step inside. I continue moving backward, trying to put more space between me and the entrance.
My eyes hone in on the ax in his left hand. He’s dragging it behind him as he continues to stalk farther in. He swings the ax up and brings it down to rest in his right hand as his head moves side to side, surveying the surroundings.
As I continue moving back, my foot catches on something. I trip into a pile of hay laying off to my right side. I catch myself before I fall and immediately look down at Robbie. It appears he didn’t hear me.
I peer over to my left to see what I just stumbled over and recognize Jared’s jacket. Clasping my hand over my mouth, I muffle the small gasp that wants to seep out. Kneeling down by his side, I sweep away the hay covering his face and place my hands about his cheeks. It doesn’t appear he’s sustained any major injuries, and there’s only a small gash on his forehead. A small amount of blood trickles down the side of his face. I check his pulse and am relieved when he has a solid heartbeat. I tap his cheek in hopes that it might wake him up-no luck.
Taking fistfuls of loose hay, I start spreading it all over him to mask his body before proceeding along the loft to look for another spot to hide. Erratic and violent-sounding movement below followed by sharp clanging has me ducking behind a bale of hay. Loud growling and frustrated groans fill the barn as more noises resonate from the ground-level. It seems like he’s pissed he can’t find me.
After a moment, everything goes quiet. I poke my head above the hay and peer down, but I can’t find any sign of him. Leaning farther forward on the bale of hay, I scan the lower level more critically, but still don’t see him anywhere.
Dammit, where’d he go?
Rolling back onto my heels, I rise up in a crouch position and continue moving along the loft. A cold draft sweeps through the area from behind me. I spin around to find a wooden flap covering a window-like hole leading to the outside. The draft is flowing through the gaps between the flap and the spots where it connects to the wall of the barn. I look across the way and see the same kind of opening on the opposite end.
That’s the rope Jared used to get out of the barn before. I may be able to use it to get down and outside without Robbie noticing.
Deciding on that plan of action, I swiftly, but quietly, move in the direction of the opening while maneuvering around the copious amounts of hay. I keep an eye on the ground-level in an attempt to locate Robbie, but even as I near the other side of the barn, I can’t see him. It’s as if he’s disappeared.
I take one more glance down before I go to open the wooden flap that leads outside to the front of the barn. Still not seeing Robbie, I reach out and unlatch the small wooden lock attached to the side of the hatch and begin to push it open. A soft creak sounds from the hinge and I stop pushing it. My eyes dart to the lower level, hoping I don’t see Robbie pop out somewhere after hearing the sound.
Easy does it.
With the window-sized door propped completely open now, I see the rope tied to the hay bale being fed through the pulleys still dangling here. Taking the rope slack in my hand, I stop and check to make sure the other end of it is tied off, even though I saw Jared use it with no problem before. I look out toward the house and down at the ground for any sign of movement before I start to descend. I tug on the rope, testing the knot tied off around the beam to my right one more time, just in case.
“Laney?” I hear someone’s agonized whisper from below me.
Releasing the rope, I take cauti
on and move to the edge in order to peek down. Colton is standing there, illuminated by the light flooding in through the open barn door. He’s favoring his right leg and his face looks pretty beaten up. I put my finger up to my mouth, telling him to be quiet, even as my eyes become misty at the sight of him.
His eyes widen. “Laney!” he cries out, causing me to whip around.
Robbie stands in front of me with the rope in hand, framed by the open hatch window. My body seizes up. I can’t move. I watch on in horror as he begins twisting the ax in his hands while he stares me down. My mind tells me to get the hell out of there, but my legs refuse to listen. He brings the ax above his head, making my heart rate spike dramatically. I draw in a short breath and hold it while my vision begins to gray out in terror.
Somehow I muster the will to stagger back, but then stop as I hover dangerously close to the edge of the loft. Robbie grunts and takes a swing in my direction. A rush of wind passes my face as the ax comes mere inches from my nose. When I jerk back, I lose my balance and plummet to the ground while watching Robbie look down at me over the side of the upper level.
Hay flies up and swirls around when I land with a bang. My head cracks against the hard floor. My vision blurs as a cloud of dust and particles flit around in the air above me before showering back down. I hear Colton’s muffled yell as I begin to drift in and out of consciousness, until I see nothing but darkness.
I wiggle my fingers, feeling them suspended above my head. Trying to bring them down to my sides, I can’t. I strain and pull, but pain cuts into my wrists the more I struggle. I’m bound. My fingertips graze the material holding my hands together. It feels coarse, like rope.
Voices drift in and out as I try to open my eyes. My head feels like it’s stuck in a vice and someone’s making it tighter and tighter the more I attempt to pull my eyelids open. When I’m able to focus a little better, more distinct sounds enter my ears. Deep voices behind me come through muddled due to the pounding between my ears.
“I couldn’t find them,” someone says in the distance, but to my ears their voice sounds like they’re talking into the blades of a moving fan.
My head hangs low when I can’t support it anymore. I still haven’t been able to open my eyes-it’s too painful. As I listen to my shallow breathing, I lull myself into a state of numbness and feel myself losing consciousness again.
Pain surges through my face and neck before spreading across my arms and chest. The sting is quickly followed by an extreme cold and wet feeling. I scream out in an agonized shock. I hear the sound of an empty metal bucket hitting the ground and bouncing a few times.
My eyes fly open. It takes me a moment to absorb everything I see. My vision is hazy and I blink my eyes a few times, feeling my wet lashes graze my cheeks. Freezing cold water runs down my face. It’s made even colder by the wind sweeping through the space.
“Wake up, sleepyhead,” someone says in front of me.
I can only make out their faint image, which appears doubled. The next thing I hear is a melody floating around my head. The tune is familiar, but just like the voice in front of me, it sounds distorted.
When my eyes finally adjust, I come face-to-face with a black ski mask and two of the evilest eyes staring at me. I shiver in the cold. Fear consumes me as I realize Robbie is standing in front of me, and I’m helpless to defend myself. I want to yell for help, but who will hear me out here?
Is this how I’m going to die?
Thoughts of my friends begin to flow through my mind as I dangle here. I desperately hope they show up and rescue me, but I’m not sure how likely it is that will happen. I begin to ponder all the things I haven’t done with my life, and everything I haven’t said, but need to, to the ones I love. Tears begin to well up in my eyes from both the physical pain I’m feeling and the emotional distress coursing through me.
I flinch when Robbie reaches out for my face with his gloved hand. He clutches my chin and pulls my face forward. I try to avoid his grasp by tilting my head back. A growl of frustration leaves his mouth and his grip on my jaw tightens, causing me to squeal out.
Now I can hear the song “Santa Baby” playing in the background after Robbie muffles my cries with his other hand. The haunting melody brings me back to the night of my attack. Every emotion I felt that night starts to run through me. I can’t help but release all of my tension in a loud scream after wiggling my jaw away from his hand.
An intense ache shoots through my face as Robbie’s hand whips across it. My head flies to the side and I leave it there, taking in all the pain. I rock back, realizing for the first time I’m standing on a bale of hay and my feet are bound together at my ankles.
“Shh,” he whispers, bringing my face to his. His index finger rests in front of his lips through the slit in the ski mask.
My pain and fear transform into anger. I glare at him with all the hatred I can muster. A drip of blood runs from the corner of my mouth to my chin, and I move my tongue across the area, sweeping it up. I rear back and hock a bloody ball of spit into his face and watch as it slides down the fabric of his mask. He wipes it away and tosses the remnants to the ground, but never takes his eyes off of me. A swift punch to my stomach causes all of my ab muscles to contract. I’m momentarily crippled with pain and release a huge breath as the wind surges through and out my lips. A harsh groan passes from my mouth. The throbbing ache in my stomach is enough to make me want to vomit.
I hang there for a minute with most of my weight being supported by my wrists, and again I absorb the pain and convert it to anger. “What are you waiting for, Robbie? Just get it over with,” I say, my voice full of rage.
He tilts his head from one side to the other very slowly, all the while still staring at me. His hands reach up and take hold of the mask’s edge as a grin sprouts on his lips. He pulls it up slowly, revealing his face, feature by feature. First his chin, and then his mouth, followed by his nose. I study him and wait for the mask to be pulled off the rest of the way.
My eyes can hardly believe what they’re seeing. A gasp parts my lips as my brain tries to comprehend the sight before me.
“Trevor?”
A serpent grin slithers across his face. “Surprise. Happy anniversary, Laney.”
“But-” I begin, feeling more confused than angry. “We found your body at that other house.”
He laughs. “Oh, you mean Robbie’s body?”
“Robbie’s body?” A wave of dizziness crashes into me as I take in everything that’s happening. “What the fuck is going on, Trevor? Why are doing this?”
“I’m just finishing what I started,” he replies cryptically.
“Started? What do you mean?” My anger returns as his grin widens.
“Robbie may have attacked you four years ago, but I was the one pulling the strings. How else do you think we got away with so much?” he responds. “This is the true face of The Prowler. This is the face you should’ve been fearing these past four years, not the face of a little lap dog like Robbie.”
I can hardly believe what I’m hearing. A slew of complex emotions flow through me, but the one that stays at the forefront is anger toward the person in front of me.
“You were supposed to be Robbie’s first victim. His trial run. You were going to pop his murderer cherry. He promised me he was ready to kill, but alas, here you are, alive and well. Robbie was careless, so I left him behind to take the fall. I did, however, make sure he wouldn’t be convicted by tampering with the scene just before the cops showed up.” He tries to run his gloved hand across my cheek, but I jerk my head away from him, causing a sneer to show on his face. “And I made sure the court case would be drawn out by hiring him a lawyer that would have Johnnie Cochran shaking in his boots. And damn, was he good at twisting the truth and getting all of that Prowler evidence thrown out of the case. I wasn’t about to let Robbie take credit for the work I’d done. No fucking way,” he finishes with a flourish as he grabs my jaw, sending a sharp pain through my face
before tossing my head back.
I roll my neck forward in a defiant manner and send him an intense glare. “What was the point of doing that? Why not just let him get the death penalty, and then you could walk away a free man and never have to worry about getting caught.”
He shakes his head. “You just don’t get it. I had to make Robbie boy suffer for as long as I could because he fucked up royally by getting caught,” he laughs. “You see, Laney, he had to be punished, but I wasn’t about to have my little puppy dog put down. I still needed him. And if anyone was going to kill him, it was going to be the one person he worshipped...me. I’m just lucky I stumbled upon someone like Robbie. An individual who was easily persuaded to take all the blame no matter what the costs. The dumb fuck even believed he should be punished for screwing up.”
“And then you just kill him? Why go to all of that effort and then just off him anyway?”
“He pissed me off, so I had to do what I had to do. He was as good as dead anyway. I planned for him to take the fall for this as well. All of my loose ends had to be tied up, and you, my dear, are the last piece of the puzzle. It’s all just fallen into place beautifully. This whole thing will look like Robbie killed you and your little friends because he snapped after being in prison for almost four years, and no one will give it a second thought,” he explains while circling me and trailing his fingers around random areas of my body. “Then I’ll be able to continue my work, and eventually train a worthy replacement.”
“You’re a sick bastard, you know that?”
“Well aware of that fact, thank you.”
“I can’t fucking believe you. You used Colton to get to me. He loved you.”
“Really? After all that, that’s what you bring up? That I used one of your stupid friends’ feelings to get to you? This is why you’re in the position you’re in, Laney. You have a heart.”
“Why? Why in the hell did you choose me? What did I ever do to deserve this? What did any of those women do?” I ground out while thrashing about, trying to get to him, but he doesn’t even flinch. He seems unfazed by my anger, which secretly makes me fear what he’s going to do to me.
