The Girl in the Darkness

by John Triptych

  Grinning while cradling the rifle, Jeff lengthened his strides. He would catch up to them in a matter of minutes. “I’m coming, girls,” he whispered, “in more ways than one.”

  The two of them made it as best they could until they could see that it was an old abandoned barn of some sort. There had been a clearing around the place many years ago, but the forest had swallowed it up; even the trail that led out towards to the road was no longer recognizable due to the overgrowth of flora. Brenda pulled Samantha along as they ran to the front of the barn. The intact wooden walls had gnarled and warped into an ashen grey color; the corrugated roof slowly rusting away.

  Brenda tried to pull the double doors open, but something held them fast. Glancing to her right she saw a smaller, man-sized door at the far end. She ran up to it and tried the latch. This time the entryway opened with a loud creek that made her cringe. Samantha hobbled over and the two of them pushed their way inside.

  No sooner had they walked two steps into the cavernous interior when Brenda pointed the flashlight at the ground in front of them. What she saw made her recoil in shock. Just ahead of them was a recently unearthed pit. It was as if someone tore the barn’s flooring away and gouged out a huge chunk of soil, leaving a gully ten feet deep, all the way to the other end of the room. The bottom of the pit had a concrete floor that seemed to have been laid down recently. The walls along the ditch had slabs of wood to hold them in place, in seeming preparation for more hardened material to be added in later.

  “He’s building another prison,” Samantha whispered.

  Brenda shined the flashlight over to her left, and then to the right. There was a wheel barrow and several shovels by one side of the wall, along with sacks of unused cement. A stack of paint and varnish cans were at the other end. Aiming the light towards the ceiling, she could see an upper deck with a wooden ladder attached to it. There were also several sheets of plastic tarp lying around, to help cover the building materials.

  The sounds of laughter could be heard out in the near distance. Jeff was making his way towards the barn. He wanted them to hear his chuckling. Samantha’s despair had already boiled over. Her knees were weak from the night’s exertion, and finally buckled as she collapsed down into a sitting position on the dirt strewn floor. “It’s no use,” she said wearily.

  Brenda gritted her teeth. Hearing Jeff’s ever increasing guffaws was the last straw. The hopelessness and fear that had once gripped her had seeped away. All she had now was her rage. A tiny mote of courage had begun to coalesce in her soul, and the desire to protect her child cleared the cobwebs from her mind. If she was going to die tonight, then she would go down fighting to protect the daughter she once thought had gone. There was no greater cause than this. She leaned to her side to pull Samantha back up until they stood together. She turned and looked into her daughter’s eyes. “Listen to me, Sam. You will make it through this. You’ll be free.”

  Samantha’s mouth trembled. Her sunken eyes could no longer shed tears, but the anguish could not be dissipated. “Mom, he always gets what he wants. I know this. I’ve known this for years.”

  Brenda placed her hands on Samantha’s frail shoulders. “Not tonight he won’t.”

  “He’s always in control. Always.”

  “Listen to me! We can beat him if we work together, okay?”

  “But … what can we do?”

  “Look around you,” Brenda said. “I’ve got an idea.”

  Jeff kept grinning as he walked briskly towards the front of the barn. The two pairs of footsteps had made it to his new hideout, it seemed. He had planned to build another subterranean room in the barn, just in case the one underneath the lodge was detected. Jeff had known about this adjoining property, and had purchased it from an old farmer a few years back. He loved to spend his free time constructing elaborate underground bunkers ever since he did a similar job for a survivalist out in West Virginia. When he saw just how far these preppers would go when it came to constructing their hideouts, he challenged himself to build something similar, but with a different purpose.

  Holding the rifle with one hand, he pushed the door open. “Come out come out wherever you are.”

  Once he took a few steps inside, he nearly doubled back in surprise. The footsteps that had shown so clearly in his thermal goggles had somehow multiplied, and led in wildly different directions. It seemed that the two women ran around the interior like headless chickens, with the thermal signatures doubling back on themselves.

  Jeff nodded slowly. Very clever. He didn’t think Brenda or Samantha were ever capable of adapting against him. Now he would have to look for them the hard way. He picked one fresh set of prints and made his way along the side of the barn. The footsteps seemed to the ladder, which meant that one of them was up in the barn’s upper level.

  He shook his head. “Come on, I know one of you is up there. If you have to make me climb up, I’m going to make you suffer.”

  A voice that clearly belonged to his ex-wife rang out from above. “Why are you doing this, Jeff?”

  Jeff shrugged. “Why do you think? Because I get off on it, Brenda.”

  “You were never like this before, what made you do this now?”

  “I was always like this,” Jeff said. “You were just too stupid to figure me out. I was real good at hiding things from you.”

  “You burned down the tool shed to hide your secret, didn’t you?”

  Jeff was impressed. “So that’s what made you go up here to the lodge then? I thought that bitch of a detective called you or something.”

  “You’re not going to get away with this, you know that?”

  “You’re wrong, Brenda,” Jeff said. “If your dumbass former detective friend called someone, there would be a fleet of police cars at the lodge by now. The fact that only the two of you showed up means you didn’t have time to call for help.”

  Brenda gritted her teeth. “You won’t be able to hide what you’ve done this time, Jeff!”

  He chuckled. “Oh yes I will. I even placed Sam underneath my tool shed for a few weeks one time, right under your nose. I had her there before I filed for the divorce, and you didn’t even know about it. So what made you look in the shed this time?”

  “It was the cat, Jeff. It led me to your tool shed.”

  Jeff started laughing. “Damn that stupid little pussycat. I should have never bought a pet for Sam. But I felt sorry for her you know.”

  Brenda’s outrage was complete. She no longer felt any fear of him. “You felt sorry for her? You kept her in a dark prison for over ten years and you felt sorry for her? What kind of a sick man are you?”

  “Insulting me isn’t going to make things any better for you and Sam,” Jeff said. “Why don’t you just come on down, and we’ll talk it over. Face to face. What do you say?”

  “What are we going to talk about, Jeff?”

  “I’ll make you a deal,” he said. “Both of you come out peacefully, and I’ll make the place in the lodge comfortable for the two of you. I’ll put back the TV and bring some good food. It’s the best I can do for you. Heck, I’ll even let you keep the cat.”

  A voice coming from across the barn started shouting. “I’m never going back down there! Go to hell, Dad!”

  Jeff turned. It sounded like it was coming from the stacked supplies at the other side of the hall. She must have placed the tarp over herself to conceal her body from the thermal imaging sensor. He held the rifle with both hands as he started towards the other end of the room. “What did I tell you, Sam? Never use those words on me!”

  Just as Jeff crossed over, there was an open ledge above him that he failed to notice because of the thermal imager’s tunneled vision. Brenda stood up as she threw away the tarp covering her body before heaving the contents of the opened can of varnish down on him. The liquid resin splashed onto the top of his head and shoulders, completely soaking the thermal imaging goggles he wore. As Jeff screamed out in rage and started taking off the vision gear
from his forehead, Brenda flicked on the lighter that her daughter had found in the jacket she wore. But as she threw it down at him, Jeff had inadvertently moved to the side as he struggled to get the varnish from his eyes, and the flickering lighter fell to the ground a few feet away from him.

  He inadvertently rubbed his left eye when a few drops of cold varnish seeped down his forehead. A burning sensation quickly sent waves of agony into his brain. He staggered over to the side of the barn, colliding with a wall, screaming as the chemical solvent burned through his eye. “Ahh! You stupid bitches!”

  Brenda ran the other way as she leapt down the ladder. Misjudging her steps, she stumbled as her right foot got caught on the rung and she fell down to the ground floor in a heap, bruising her shoulder.

  Samantha got up from underneath a tarp blanket by the side of the barn and pulled out the steak knife she was hiding. She was too tired to run, and she figured this was her best chance to fight him. The young woman started moving towards her father, blade in hand.

  Jeff could still see from one eye as he roared with rage and leveled the rifle with one hand before firing at his daughter. The hipshot was a wild miss since the pain in his eye had severely degraded his aim. Samantha ran at him and tried to stab him with the steak knife, but Jeff pivoted away and he kicked her to the side, sending his daughter tumbling backwards, half-stunned from the blow.

  Brenda shook her head as she got up. She could see that the lighter on the ground was still giving out a small flicker of flame. She ran towards it, getting down on her knees to pick the item up.

  Jeff turned and noticed his ex-wife. Using both hands, he cycled the bolt as the spent cartridge ejected from the Remington and a new bullet was loaded into the firing chamber. He could only see with one eye as he aimed with both hands this time, carefully squeezing the trigger so he would not miss her chest.

  Just as he pulled the trigger, Samantha crawled up to him and drove the steak knife into his knee. Jeff’s right leg buckled as his second shot fired up into the ceiling. Brenda held the lighter over her shoulder and threw it, the small flame finally touching the still liquid varnish on his left shoulder.

  His head and shoulders quickly ignited. Yelling like a wounded bear, Jeff dropped the rifle and started thrashing on the dirt floor, hoping to smother the fire out. Brenda ran over and picked up the weapon as Samantha made it by her side. She knew enough about guns to cycle another fresh round into the bolt of the Remington before placing the butt stock on her shoulders and steadying herself.

  Jeff was on his knees. He was able to snuff out the fire, but the top of his head roared in agony. The smell of burned flesh mixed with resin was nauseating. He looked up at them with his remaining eye. “Finish it, you bitch!”

  Brenda let out a deep breath. She aimed the gun at him, but she had doubts about pulling the trigger. “Jeff, please … just give up.”

  Jeff grimaced as he pulled out the steak knife that was sticking in his right leg. He held it in front of him as he staggered up. “Either you kill me, or I’ll kill you both.”

  Brenda started crying again. “Jeff…”

  “Kill him, Mom,” Samantha said tersely. “Kill him.”

  Jeff cursed as he lunged forward.

  Brenda squeezed the trigger.

  Epilogue

  The middle of summer had given new life to the oak trees that surrounded the house; almost every leaf on their branches green. The mid-afternoon sun stood triumphantly above the wispy blue sky. The late chill of spring had finally gone, and the air was thick with humidity, prompting most people to stay indoors until later in the day.

  Brenda sat on her customary chair by the front window while she did some knitting. The media frenzy had at last died down, and the whole neighborhood was back to normal again. Jeff DeVoe remained in a coma after the bullet that entered his skull had fragmented, leaving bits of lead in his brain. The doctors weren’t optimistic—they figured he would last just a few weeks more before expiring. The police released Brenda and her daughter after determining that the shooting was justified. For a number of weeks, the news vans tried to venture into her property to get the latest scoop, but Brenda’s neighbors ultimately banded together and got them to leave.

  A shrill meowing startled her, prompting Brenda to twist her head and peer back into the darkened interior of the living room. Quincy the cat stared back at her for a short minute, before silently making its way to the scratching post situated strategically beside the sofa. Brenda smiled. At least the cat had finally figured out that using its claws on the furniture was not to be done anymore. After a few rounds of scratching and stretching its forepaws, Quincy soon disappeared into the shadows once more.

  Turning her attention back to knitting, Brenda figured that she would call Cherry up at the shelter to tell her she would like to start working again. With the vulture-like media people now gone, she could slide back into comfortable anonymity once more. She needed to let go of the past and put it behind her. The horrid recollections of the previous month still gave her nightmares, and she would sit up in the middle of the night, gripped by the fear of her ex-husband somehow coming back to finish the job. Dr. Harmon had told her that it would take some time to bury the demons that had been hounding her, and it was best to stay busy. Brenda figured that the way to do it would be to go back to volunteering at the shelter again.

  A voice called out from behind. “Mom?”

  Brenda stood up and turned around. Standing by the foot of the twilit staircase was her daughter. Samantha still wasn’t comfortable going out in the daytime, so she tended to stay in her room with the curtains fully closed, only coming downstairs for a bite to eat. A bit of color had returned to her face, and she had gained some weight. The doctors had advised Brenda that the trauma her daughter suffered would take a long time to recover from, and it was best to take things easy for now.

  Putting down the knitting sticks, she gave Samantha a glowing smile. “How are you, Sam? Do you want some food?”

  Samantha looked away and shook her head. She walked over to the darkened part of the living room and sat down on the sofa. “I’m okay. I’m still full from the lunch we just ate.”

  Brenda walked over to the curtains and started to pull them back to let more light into the room. “That’s good then. Do you need anything?”

  Samantha instinctively shielded her eyes as the sun’s rays started bathing the room with a bright amber brilliance. “Mom, please stop!”

  Brenda was startled as she stood beside the blinds. “Stop what?”

  “Could you just … could you shut the curtains, please?”

  Brenda realized her mistake. She quickly drew out the drapes again, blocking out the afternoon sun. “I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s okay.”

  There was only a small gap of light that showed through the windows now. The living room was once again a shadowy outline of sofas, tables and chairs. “There you go,” Brenda said. “I hope I didn’t blind you or anything.”

  Samantha shook her head as she leaned back on the sofa, her long dark hair draping the leather cushion. “No, it’s cool. I kinda like staying in the dark.”

  “Me too,” Brenda said softly, “looks like we’re two of a kind.”

  Thanks for reading!

  If you liked this book, could you please leave a review? Getting reviews is extremely important for me as it helps to acquire future sales, and as an independent writer it enables me to write more books for your enjoyment. Thank you.

  If you liked this book, try another thriller by John Triptych:

  The Opener

  Expatriate Underworld Book 1

  Available now!

  Abandoning a recession-plagued America for the easy money of Southeast Asia's lucrative but highly illegal investment scam industry, Don Rouse must navigate through a sordid world of drug addicts, deviants, prostitutes and professional con men in order to achieve his lifelong dream of making it big. But his world is suddenly turned upside d
own when the police show up and his boss goes missing. After a chance meeting with the alluring but enigmatic Jessica, Don is plunged into a high stakes mystery that could very well put an end to his criminal career and perhaps even his life.

  From the fleshpots of Bangkok to the gritty streets of Manila, John Triptych’s debut novel sheds a new light on the little known world of international organized crime.

  Recommended for mature readers.

  J Triptych Publishing

  Spellbinding literary entertainment at an affordable price!

  Crime Thrillers:

  The Expatriate Underworld Series: John Triptych’s gritty, no-holds barred exploration of South East Asia’s expatriate underworld, a sordid society in which one man is determined to succeed at any cost. Recommended for mature readers.

  The Opener (Book 1)

  The Loader (Book 2)

  The Amoralist Series: John Triptych returns to the thriller genre with a new series that focuses on a highly unique assassin who travels the world for all manner of whims and murder.

  A Man of Leisure (Book 1)

  Savage Wanderings (Book 2)

  The Girl in the Darkness: A woman, haunted by a daughter who went missing many years before, struggles with depression and loneliness until an unexpected event thrusts her back into an unending nightmare once more.

  Science Fiction:

  The Dying World Series: A mind-blowing, out of this world adventure set millions of years in the future. Mankind has evolved with strange new powers, and only one woman stands in the way of total annihilation.