FRIDAY NIGHT FRIGHTS
R.D. SHERRILL
© 2014 Duane Sherrill
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
First Edition – October 2014
Cover design Copyright © 2014 Seth Wright
Editing by Linda Bernhardt, Ashley Wright and Seth Wright
The following is a work of fiction and is not meant to represent any real persons or events.
For inquiries concerning rights or to find out more about R.D. Sherrill’s books go to:
http://www.facebook.com/RdSherrill
Dedicated to the people of my hometown, McMinnville, Tenn., for their overwhelming support of my writing career.
Table of Contents
PROLOGUE
BEST FRIENDS FOREVER
WHO CAN YOU TRUST
I WORK ALONE
FEAR OF FLYING
DO AS YOU ARE TOLD
SEEING DOUBLE
IT’S ALL YOUR FAULT
TOO CLOSE TO HOME
DRINKING GAMES
EVIL INCARNATE
OUT OF THE BLUE
MIDDLE OF NOWHERE
AND THE LIGHTNING STRIKES
TOUCH AND GO
STICK TO THE PLAN
UNDER THE BRIGHT LIGHTS
TO THE KIA
EPILOGUE
About the Author
PROLOGUE
Tree limbs slapped Ashley’s face as she charged into the thicket, bravely throwing herself into the wooded labyrinth, the moon providing her only source of light on the crisp fall night. She waded through the thick underbrush, swimming through the tangle of limbs guarding the perimeter of the woods. She sought a gap in the forest wall or any opening that would release her from her wooded bondage. She pressed on despite the sting of the branches and briars, her resolve forcing her forward even as a voice from deep within screamed for her to turn back.
Ashley was out of her element and alone. Her only comfort was the forty-caliber pistol she clutched in her left hand. She held it with a white knuckle death grip. The barrel was still hot. She had already expended two rounds from the clip. Had she hit her quarry or had her shots in the dark minutes before missed their mark, leaving the elusive culprit unscathed?
Her ears still rang from the deafening report of her gun, hampering her efforts to track her prey in the dense forest where he had taken refuge. On second thought, maybe it wasn’t sanctuary he sought in taking to the woods but instead it was ambush he had in mind. Maybe he was luring her into the forest to swing the scales in his favor. Maybe he wanted to turn the hunted into the hunter. He could be anywhere, just waiting for the right moment to spring from the darkness and wield his murderous blade, slashing her to ribbons as he had his other victims.
Ashley put such thoughts out of her mind as she pressed onward. She repressed them as she had so many nightmares in her lifetime. She had always been scared. The odds had been stacked against her since birth, yet she had overcome and even flourished in the face of long odds. She resolved that she would prevail tonight, even if she had to give her all.
Her persistent fight with the timber paid off as she found a gap and emerged from the thicket as the forest opened wide before her. She paused briefly to catch her breath. Her inconsistent dates with the treadmill at the gym left her ill-prepared for the chase and her battle with the forest. She bent over, one hand on her knee while the other still held to her gun as she gulped the air. Her lungs cried out for oxygen. She couldn’t breathe! Her lungs refused to pull in the air. Her body betrayed her even as she stood exposed in the clearing. The full moon’s beams spotlighted her through the forest canopy, the trees standing around like so many mute witnesses, perhaps to view her final moments. She fought her panic as she felt it trying to overtake her like a dark force from within. Get ahold of yourself, Ashley.
She could hear her own wheezing. The sound carried in the serenity of the forest, perhaps making it to the ear of the cutthroat who could be lurking anywhere in the shadows. What if he heard her distress? It might draw him to her location like the sound of a wounded animal. The ruthless murderer would surely take advantage of such a situation to move in for the kill. Breathe, Ashley, breathe!
She fell to one knee, thrusting her free hand into her pocket as she still clutched her gun, nervously scanning her surroundings for any movement. After moments of frantic fumbling, she pulled her inhaler from her pocket. She wasted no time pushing it to her mouth, taking a quick breath of mist, the same mist that had saved her life many times before. She had learned never to go anywhere without her rescue inhaler since it seemed her attacks always came at the most inopportune times.
The stress had snuck up on her. The thrill of the chase and the boost of adrenaline masked her dire circumstances until she took pause to gather herself within the confines of the forest. That was when it hit all at once, rudely reminding her of her frailties, frailties she had fought so hard to overcome all her life. She would not let them define her.
As suddenly as the attack hit her, it began to recede, that feeling of an elephant sitting on her chest slipping away. The inhaler did the trick as her breaths became more regular, the heaving of her chest now productive. Her wheezing ceased as her lungs finally filled with the clear country air, the freshness of which was as delicious to her as a fine wine.
And, more importantly, the sense of panic which had crept into her being, threatening to leave her paralyzed with fear, eased its grip, retreating back from where it came. A sense of relief descended upon her. You’re going to make it, Ashley.
She took slow, deep breaths, clearing her mind as she re-focused on the mission, a mission that had brought her into the dark woods in search of an armed killer. Where was he? For the first time, Ashley listened to her surroundings but the only sound she could hear was that of her own blood pumping in her ears. Where did he go? He couldn’t have gone that far in here the way he was dressed.
Ashley knew his movements would be restricted, especially in the dense woods which had given her so much trouble. She had actually gained on him as she chased him from the field, his ducking into the tree line fortuitous to aid in his escape. Another hundred yards and she would have had him, or at least been close enough to take a good shot. One thing for sure, she couldn’t let him get away to kill again. This had to end tonight.
Refreshed by her short rest, Ashley forced herself back to her feet. She raised her gun in front of her as she turned full circle, looking for any clue as to where the man had disappeared. It was then she noticed the blood again seeping from around her crude bandage. The crimson fluid oozed through the white piece of cloth and trickled down her arm. It had saturated the cloth. Her strenuous activity had caused her blood to pump harder. She was pretty sure the man’s blade missed the artery, given the fact she hadn’t bled to death already. It was likely a flesh wound, but a leaky one all the same. A continued loss of blood, she realized, could lead to a loss of consciousness and thusly, a loss of her life since there would be no cavalry coming to save the day. As odd as it sounded even to her, she was the cavalry.
Refusing to holster her gun for the sake of first aid, Ashley adjusted the blood-soaked cloth over the nasty slash on the back of her right arm before using her teeth to tighten it over the gaping cut. For the first time
she could feel the pain pulsing in her arm, the shooting discomfort coming with each pump of her heart. It’s a good thing you’re left-handed, Ashley.
She had thrown her arm up by reflex, intercepting the killer’s sharp steel at the last moment as his blade flashed in the moonlight. He had intended for his knife to find the tender skin of her throat, to end her life in one slash as he had ended so many others. However, her instinct for self-preservation saved her life, turning the tables on the reaper as it afforded her precious time to level her gun on the knife-wielding killer and squeeze off a shot.
As to whether she hit him with a round from her forty-caliber, that was still to be seen. The shock of being cut affected her aim even in such close quarters. Under normal circumstances, she could have made that shot with one eye closed but squeezing off a round at night with blood pouring from one’s arm isn’t what most people would consider "normal circumstances." Add that to concern of hitting innocent civilians and the pressure to make a perfect shot was overwhelming, especially when the decision had to be made in the twinkling of an eye.
Ashley soldiered on after tightening her bandage. She used the light of the moon, which filtered through the thinning leaves, to guide her course. She stumbled onto a path in the woods, quite by accident, a minute later. The well-worn avenue in the forest suggested it was regularly used as a passage between the field and a subdivision located on the other side.
Had he taken the same path? If so, was he waiting like a bandit somewhere down the path, marking his time before waylaying her? Or, had he been able to make it to the other side of the woods? Was he loose on the unsuspecting people who lived in the subdivision?
Ashley quickened her pace as she walked down the trail. She was determined to make up time on the man, provided he was on the same path. Her fear of being ambushed was eclipsed by another thought that was giving her a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. If the man was able to get clear enough to shed his uniform before Ashley found him, he could easily disappear into the subdivision. After that, she could walk right by him on the street and have no idea who he was. She had never seen the killer out of uniform, the descriptions of him doing little to give her a picture of him in her mind’s eye. He would blend in if he got out of the forest, allowing him to kill again. There was no doubt that he had a taste for blood, a taste that could never be quenched. He would go on killing until he was stopped.
Ashley was surprised how well her eyes adjusted to the limited light raining down from the moon. However, the same light from above also cast shadows on the forest floor as the moon beamed on the trees, providing blind spots where the killer could hide.
Even as she kept her head on a swivel, Ashley detected a movement somewhere around her. It wasn’t a sight or even a sound she could put her finger on. It was more of a feeling, an animal instinct that she was not alone. She learned to trust those unexplainable instincts, that sixth sense that all people have but few are attune to. It was that sixth sense which saved her life minutes before when she threw up her arm to intercept the killer’s blade.
She quickened her pace, intent on getting to the other side of the forest before the fugitive. But, even as she began jogging, she felt her movements being mirrored by a presence. Where is it coming from? Am I just hearing things?
The eeriness of the forest, Ashley realized, could make her mind play tricks. Maybe she was sensing something when it wasn’t there. The tingling down her spine persisted. Her mind told her she was not alone in the forest. Something was near.
Acting on an impulse, she put on the brakes, stopping dead in her tracks without warning. There it was! Footsteps! It was the sound of the movement that had been mirroring hers. However, instead of coming from in front of her on the trail, as she assumed, the sound was coming from behind. It was following her!
She whirled around, gun leveled with her finger on the trigger. The sound stopped. He was on the trail somewhere behind her. She stood motionless, careful not to move a single muscle, even holding her breath as she strained her ears. In the distance, back toward the field, she could hear the sound of approaching sirens. They would do her no good since no one knew where she was. She wasn't even sure where she was. She had pursued the killer into the darkness without backup, a rookie mistake which could end up costing her life. Now it was just the two of them.
The gun shook in her hand as she began slowly walking to the point where she heard the sound. The forest was silent except for her labored breathing. She resisted the urge to call out and order the suspect to give himself up and surrender without a fight. She knew that would be both a waste of breath and a way to reveal her exact location in the darkness. Instead, Ashley pressed on, ignoring the pain in her arm as she felt the blood again trickle off her fingertips. Where is he, Ashley?
She had no doubts about the killer’s motives now since he had either doubled back or waited in the shadows for her to pass. He had abandoned the chance to get away, to exploit his head start and make it to the subdivision and thereby freedom. Instead, he had chosen to remain in the woods and finish the job. The man planned to kill her. Had this all been a ploy to lure her to an ambush? Was she the intended victim, the entire scenario staged to draw her into his web?
Ashley tried to move stealthily down the path. She hoped to conceal her movement and perhaps even exploit the element of surprise. Her attempt was in vain as the brush crackled beneath her feet; announcing each footfall to the entire forest. She may as well have been part of a marching band as she found it impossible to take even one step in silence. So much for being smooth, Ashley.
She slowed to a snail’s pace as she backtracked on the trail, sweeping to the left and right with her gun, prepared to open fire in a heartbeat. Her injured arm was becoming numb as she worked her fingers, trying to get some feeling to return, almost wishing back the pain she’d felt moments before. It now hung at her side, an arm she normally used to steady her aim while at the shooting range.
Until tonight, the shooting range was the only place she had pulled her trigger. Her accuracy on paper targets was quite exceptional, something that was met with much chagrin by her male counterparts in the department. The question now was if she would be as accurate when shooting at a moving target without being able to steady her hand. She kind of doubted the killer would just stand still and allow her to take careful aim like she did at the paper targets at the shooting range. Even if he was so inclined, it was the dead of the night. There would be no such thing as a sure shot under such conditions. Could she make the shot when it came time?
She was about to find out! Ashley whirled in response to a sound to her left, her gun immediately leveled as she looked for a target in the dimly lit woods. She caught her breath as her heart raced. Her eyes strained against the darkness to see if the killer was charging out of the timber toward her.
There was nothing. The sound in the underbrush instead suggested she had rousted a rabbit or squirrel. She lowered her gun, scolding herself for her jumpiness just as she felt a presence behind her. It was him!
She turned but an instant too late. The killer was on her. His hand swatted at the gun just as Ashley squeezed the trigger. The round narrowly missed the demon’s head, ripping harmlessly through the forest canopy above. It was her only shot as the surprise attack knocked the gun from her grasp, her firearm flying into the darkness as she struggled with the much stronger killer. Now it was his turn. She saw a glimmer of moonlight flash off the blade which had slashed her just minutes before. She would not be a victim.
Acting with a quickness that surprised even the knife-wielding killer, Ashley side stepped the downward thrust of the blade, a thrust the demon meant to deal a death blow. It was a sense of self-preservation, a question of survival that fueled Ashley’s movements there in the darkness of the deserted forest, as she recalled her training. She realized she would lose a fair fight with the armed man. Therefore, she wouldn’t fight fair.
Dodging his first thrust, Ashley flailed out,
gouging the eyes of her attacker. Her nicely-filed nails found the soft wetness of his eyes, leaving the demon reeling. She then exploited her advantage, directing a kick to her attacker’s nether region. Her shoe found its mark as evidenced by a high pitched howl bellowing from the man’s mouth.
With her attacker bent over in pain and temporarily blinded by her rake to his eyes, Ashley grabbed the hand which gripped the knife. She forced her injured arm into action as she wrenched back his wrist. The ferocity of her counter attack paid off. She heard the sound of tendons popping as his wrist bent back. The knife fell from his hand. Her advantage was short-lived. She left herself open with her all-out attack to dislodge the knife. The man used his free hand to exact a blow across her nose.
The impact knocked Ashley backwards, leaving her face stinging and her eyes watering. It wasn’t every day she got in a fist fight with a man. Sure, she had trained in hand to hand combat but that did little to prepare her for that first punch and the first taste of her own blood that now trickled from her nose onto her lips. The blow rang her ears and left her momentarily stunned as her attacker tried to gather himself after her equally vicious assault. Where’s my gun?
Ashley quickly scanned the ground around her, hoping to catch sight of her firearm or even the knife that had been dropped by the killer. She saw nothing, literally. Her eyes wouldn’t focus, leaving her seeing only shapes and outlines.
Her glasses! In her stunned state she hadn’t realized the blow knocked her glasses from her face. She was next-to-blind without her glasses. The kids back in school nicknamed her Velma due to her poor vision and her constant need for her glasses. Why hadn’t she followed through with her threat to get Lasik surgery? Actually, she knew the reason. It was because she feared she’d be the one in a million who would go completely blind, opting to wear her stylish glasses rather than take a chance of spending the rest of her life in complete darkness. Now she was in the darkness with a cold-blooded killer. Her odds had just gone from slim to none as she was unarmed and essentially blind. She realized it would be impossible to fight an opponent she couldn’t see. She had to run!
Friday Night Frights (Jack and Ashley Detective series Book 1) Page 1
