In the Dark

by Chris Patchell

  “Oh, princess, you’ll have to do better than that.”

  “Kelly,” her mother shouted.

  Marissa charged. She rammed her body squarely into his chest. Andy reeled back a few inches and nearly fell. Quick as lightning, his fist flashed out, connecting hard with Marissa’s temple. Kelly heard the crack of the blow. Marissa tottered. Her knees buckled and she crumpled to the ground like a sack of flour.

  “Looks like it’s just you and me, princess.”

  He smiled, just a flash of teeth in the shadows, and for one brief second, it wasn’t Andy looming over her mother, but Rick. He glared down with his drunken stare and his eyes full of hate. Then Andy drilled his fist into her mother’s face. A fierce and terrible hatred welled up inside Kelly.

  She wasn’t a little kid anymore. And Rick wasn’t here. It was his fucked-up son standing over her mother, and there was no way she was going to let him hit her again.

  Chest heaving, Kelly lurched to her feet. She sank back into the shadows, circling around him. He spun and she heaved her boot into the side of his knee. She heard the crunch of bone beneath her heel. Andy grunted.

  Before he could reach her, she skittered away.

  Andy lunged. His hand snaked out. His fist grazed the side of her face; the bloodstone ring gashed her cheek. A bolt of pain as Kelly pivoted away.

  “Get back here, bitch,” he grunted.

  Kelly kicked again, aiming for his groin for the second time, and missed. Her boot connected with his quad.

  “Fuck,” he cursed.

  She stepped back. Too slow. His hand shot out, connecting with her side. Pain exploded in her ribs, robbing her of breath. She fell to one knee.

  He was coming. She needed to move, but her strength had fled. She knew speed was her only ally, and she fought to catch her breath.

  Andy reached out. Kelly ducked her head, and his fist rushed past. Missed. Kelly launched up, driving her shoulder into his solar plexus with all her might. More effective than a punch—Andy stumbled back. Off-balance, he fell.

  Kelly regained her footing. Andy rolled onto his side as she stepped closer. Quick as lightning, his arm shot out and clamped around her waist. Jerked off her feet, Kelly slammed into the ground. Her head cracked against the floor. A black veil of unconsciousness enveloped her. For a fraction of an instant, everything stopped.

  Kelly opened her eyes.

  Andy straddled her chest. His hands snaked around her throat. Hot, coppery blood flooded her mouth. She spit into his face. Surprised, Andy reared back. Kelly shoved him off and scrambled away. Bolting to her feet, she took a half step back. Her legs were still wobbly, and the room dipped and swayed around her.

  She shook her head, regaining her bearings.

  “What’s your damage anyway?” she said, trying to get a bead on where he was.

  “You don’t know what he was like.”

  “Who? Rick? You’re blaming your father for what you’ve done? What did we ever do to you?”

  A heartbeat of silence passed between them. He was close. Too close. He was right in front of her.

  “Andy Bowman is dead.”

  His fist cocked back. Kelly steeled herself for the blow.

  Chapter 65

  Marissa opened one eye. The other was on fire, swollen to a slit. She could hear Kelly’s voice, shouting, goading Andy. Pain crackled like sheet lightning through her. Her breath hissed like venting steam from between clenched teeth.

  Her vision cleared and she saw Andy’s shadow. His fist was cocked back, ready to smash into Kelly’s face.

  In the flashlight’s glare, Marissa caught sight of the insulin pen. She grabbed it, spun the dial, and jabbed it deep into Andy’s thigh. Her thumb pressed down on the plunger, and she counted the clicks—far more than a normal shot.

  She prayed the needle hit its mark. It was so tiny it could have broken off on Andy’s jeans. Distracted for an instant, Andy swatted the needle away.

  Kelly seized the moment. She dove forward and drilled her shoulder into Andy’s side. Knocked off-balance, he fell to the ground.

  “Mom, the knife,” Kelly said.

  She drove her boot into Andy’s ribs, his hip, anywhere he was exposed.

  “The police are on their way,” Marissa called. It was a stupid, desperate thing to say.

  Andy grabbed hold of Kelly’s boot and twisted. Kelly slammed to the ground.

  “You’re such a bad liar, Mom,” he scoffed.

  Marissa grabbed the flashlight and searched for the knife, desperate to protect her daughters from this wreck of a human being.

  She heard his footsteps closing in behind her. The heavy tread of his boots vibrated on the floor. She turned and shone the light directly into his eyes. He raised his hand, shielding himself from the glare.

  Kelly ducked into the shadows.

  “Let us go, Andy. We’re nothing to you,” Marissa said.

  He just kept coming.

  “Let you go?” he mocked. “So one of you can show up out of the blue and fuck up my life again? My fiancée is dead. I lost everything because I ran into your goddamned daughter at a bar. No way I let that happen again.”

  His voice echoed through the cabin. A deep, visceral fear raced through Marissa. She kept the light aimed in his face and backed away.

  “Is that why you killed your father? To bury your past?”

  “I should have killed him years ago. He deserved to die. So do you. You left me there, you bitch. You packed up your shit and took the easy way out.”

  “We didn’t . . .”

  “Don’t you fucking lie to me. I saved you and you left me there. You left me.”

  His enraged cry cut through the darkness, slicing through Marissa. She had left him. Back then he was seventeen years old. Bigger than Rick. Stronger than Rick. Almost a man. She never thought he needed her. She had left him in that house without a second thought. What kind of mother was she?

  “Oh God, Andy. I’m so sorry,” Marissa said.

  “Fuck you.”

  Andy bolted forward and knocked the flashlight from her hands. Marissa cried out.

  “Mom!” Kelly shouted.

  A flash of metal glinted in the light, and the knife hissed across the floor. Marissa dove for it. Andy’s fist lashed out. The blow swung overhead, and she scrabbled toward the knife. She grasped the handle.

  Andy hauled Marissa off the floor by her hair. White-hot pain flashed through her head.

  “Bitch,” he bellowed. “You goddamned bitch.”

  Spit flew from his lips, spraying her cheeks. She gripped the knife and lashed out in a wild arc. The blade sliced through his neck. He screamed and released his grip, and Marissa dropped to the floor.

  Andy’s broad hand clapped over the wound. Blood welled between his fingers.

  “Fuck,” he screamed. “Fuck. What did you do?”

  Marissa scrambled to her feet, poised for another attack. Instead of rushing toward her, Andy pitched wildly out the door and into the night.

  “Kelly.”

  “Over here.”

  Marissa rushed toward the sound of Kelly’s voice. Fear writhed like a living thing inside her. Her hands shook violently as she sawed through the last of the ropes.

  “Brooke,” Kelly called.

  “Yeah.” Her voice sounded like broken glass.

  “He’ll be back. Let’s get out of here,” Marissa said.

  They crouched over Brooke’s crumpled form. Hands cupped gently around her, Marissa and Kelly eased her off the floor. Brooke groaned like each movement caused her pain. Her bones jutted up through the thin layer of muscle and skin. She weighed no more than a twelve-year-old girl, and Marissa’s heart broke.

  They balanced Brooke’s weight carefully between them and shuffled toward the door.

  The door burst open. Andy swayed unsteadily in the frame. He dropped a gasoline can down on the floor. It clanged against the wood with a hollow thud, gasoline spurting out of the nozzle. Like a rabid pit bull�
��s, his lips peeled away from his teeth in a hateful grin.

  Blood blossomed in a dark-red stain soaking the collar of his jacket.

  “Oh shit,” Kelly said.

  Andy’s grin widened. He kicked the can over. Gas spewed onto the floor. The overpowering stench of the acrid fumes filled the cabin. Andy stood on the edge of the pool. The pure loathing in his eyes left her breathless.

  A deranged grin stretched impossibly wide across his ashen face. Then his legs buckled, and Andy fell to his knees in the gasoline.

  For a split second everything stopped. Hope fluttered in Marissa’s chest.

  “Is he drunk?” Kelly whispered.

  “His blood sugar is dropping.”

  “Like with Brooke?”

  “Faster because he’s not diabetic.”

  Andy looked dazed. Disoriented.

  “Now,” Marissa said, tightening her arm around Brooke.

  They shuffled toward the door. Fissures of pain shivered down Marissa’s back. Brooke cried out, but Marissa ignored her and kept moving.

  Andy reached into his pocket and clumsily pulled out a lighter. A Zippo. A flash of recognition jolted through Marissa. It was Rick’s lighter, the same one she had given him as an anniversary gift years before.

  His eyes met Marissa’s.

  In a low, slurred growl, he said, “I may die here, bitch. But so will you.”

  Andy’s thumb grazed the dial. She heard a hiss and flick. Nothing happened. He tried again. This time the flame flickered to life.

  Marissa stared horror-struck as he dropped the lighter into the pool of gasoline.

  Whoosh.

  Flames burst up from the cabin floor. A blast of heat drove them back. The doorway disappeared behind a column of smoke and fire, cutting off their only escape route.

  Flames raced up Andy’s arms.

  His shrill, inhuman screams filled the air. Marissa turned her horrified gaze away from the specter of Andy writhing, thrashing, stumbling out into the rainy night, knowing that as long as she lived, she would never purge that memory from her mind.

  Flames snaked up the walls and raced along the cedar beams like a living thing. The flickering light illuminated the cabin, and for the first time she could see around her. It was bigger than it looked. There was a wide rectangular window at the far end. Six, maybe seven feet off the floor. If they could get to it, maybe they could climb out.

  “Over there. The window.”

  Marissa clamped an arm around Brooke’s waist, and they ran toward the back of the cabin. Brooke screamed. She jerked to a halt. Kelly lost her grip and Brooke fell to the floor. Stretched taut, the chain glimmered in the firelight, binding Brooke’s leg to the iron bed frame. Marissa heaved on the chain. It was looped around the leg of the bed, which was bolted to the floor. Her shoulders sagged. There was no time.

  She spun, desperately searching for the ax. It lay on the floor, inches from the flames.

  “Take Brooke,” Marissa said.

  The hiss and crackle of burning wood filled Marissa’s ears. Fire lapped at the floorboards, and she leaped over the flames. Gasping for air, she lunged for the ax.

  Marissa gripped the handle. Her back shrieking, she raised the ax overhead. Kelly used her body to shield Brooke while Marissa took aim. Ignoring the pain, she heaved the blade at the chain. The impact of the blow shook the cabin. The ax blade glanced off the thick chain and stuck in the floor.

  Marissa wrestled the blade free. There was no way she was going to cut through the chain. Instead she heaved the ax into a floorboard beneath the bed. If she could free the bed frame from the floor, she could pull the chain loose.

  Each blow of the ax drove sparks of pain through her body. Smoke, sweat, and tears stung Marissa’s eyes. She didn’t quit.

  “Go,” Brooke croaked.

  “I won’t leave you,” Kelly yelled over the roaring flames.

  With one last blow the floorboard splintered. Marissa fell to her knees and heaved on the chain. It slid out from beneath the bed frame. Brooke was free.

  Marissa sprang to her feet and scooped an arm around Brooke’s back. Burning chunks of wood rained down from the walls. All around them the fire hissed and popped and cracked. The furnace blast of heat was unbearable, and sweat ran down Marissa’s back. They stumbled toward the window.

  Kelly stood staring seven feet up, a desperate look on her face.

  “Mom, we can’t reach.”

  Marissa eased Brooke to the floor.

  “I’m going to boost you up. You have to pull Brooke through.”

  Kelly’s mouth went slack. Horror-struck, she stared at Marissa.

  “What about you? How will you . . . ?”

  “I’ll climb out after you.”

  Kelly’s wild eyes brimmed with anger and fear.

  “Bullshit, Mom. I can’t reach and I’m taller than you.”

  Marissa coughed the smoke from her lungs. She was asking Kelly to do the unthinkable. But they were out of options.

  She gripped Kelly’s shoulders in both hands.

  “I love you, Kelly. I always have. I need you to be strong now, to do this for me.”

  “Mom, no.”

  Kelly’s shoulders shook. Sobs choked out her words and opened up a huge, yawning ache in Marissa’s chest. She pulled Kelly roughly into her arms.

  “You’re the only one who can do it.”

  “I can’t leave you.”

  Marissa eased Kelly back and stared directly into her daughter’s eyes for the last time. So many memories filled Marissa’s head. Baby fingers, pigtails, dandelion bouquets, skinned knees, and good-night kisses. So many sweet memories.

  “Please,” she said.

  The cabin floor shuddered as a piece of the ceiling came crashing down. A billowing cloud of heat and smoke hurtled toward them.

  Marissa hunkered down beside the wall, bracing her weight against it.

  Sobbing, Kelly planted her foot on Marissa’s back. Marissa groaned under her daughter’s weight. Her legs shook, threatening to give way, but she closed her eyes and focused on a place deep inside her, drawing on her last store of strength. The pain didn’t matter. There was no tomorrow. All that mattered was getting Brooke and Kelly somewhere safe.

  Up above she heard the breaking glass. Refreshed with oxygen, the fire reared up.

  Finally Kelly’s weight lifted.

  Wind and rain blasted in through the open window. Marissa heaved Brooke onto her shoulders. Shaking under the extra weight, Marissa stood. Pain howled through her back, but she clenched her teeth, fighting through it. She staggered to the window.

  Kelly reached down. Behind Marissa the fire raged. The walls of the cabin popped and snapped. Smoke stung Marissa’s eyes and burned her lungs.

  Kelly grabbed Brooke’s arms. Marissa planted her feet wide and pushed Brooke as high as she could manage. Her legs shook and sweat poured down her face.

  With one leg inside the cabin and the other outside, Kelly straddled the window frame and hauled Brooke up. Cradling her sister’s weight against her own body, she shifted, leaning out the window into the driving rain.

  Marissa watched on helplessly as Kelly swung Brooke out the window. Lowering Brooke as close to the ground as she could, Kelly released her grip.

  A fierce stab of love and sadness pierced Marissa’s heart. She nodded at Kelly, urging her to go. Mute, her face streaked with tears, Kelly reached down, urging Marissa to grab on to her outstretched hand.

  Marissa jumped as high as she could. Her fingertips grazed Kelly’s. She fell to the floor, her ankle twisted beneath her. Kelly screamed.

  It was no use.

  “Go,” Marissa yelled.

  Kelly sat frozen in the window frame, shoulders slumped. With one final look, Kelly swung her leg over the window ledge and dropped from view forever.

  A shuddering wail burst from Marissa’s lips. Exhausted, she pressed her back to the wall. The flames closed in. A fierce coughing spasm racked her body, sending spark
s of pain searing through her. Bowing her head to her knees, she gripped Elizabeth’s amulet tight in her sweaty hand, shielding her face from the blistering heat.

  Elizabeth. She’d promised Elizabeth she would find Brooke. And she had. She had. They were out. They were safe.

  She’d made so many mistakes, as a mother, as a woman. She’d lived with so much guilt, so many regrets about things that she had done or hadn’t done or should have done. But none of it mattered now. In the end she had done the one thing that meant the most. She had saved her daughters.

  It was enough.

  Eyes squeezed tight, Marissa shut out the world around her. Now, in the few moments she had left, she searched for the happiest moment she could recall. A second later she had it—her two beautiful girls on the Oregon Coast.

  She focused all her energy on remembering every detail of the day they’d spent at Cannon Beach, freezing it in time—cool waves racing up the beach, thick, the heat of the summer sun in her face, warm sand in between her toes, Kelly’s smiles, and Brooke’s laughter trailing in the wind.

  She thought about Seth.

  Seth was a gift.

  A powerful wave of love washed over Marissa. Panic receded like the waves racing away from shore. And she forgot all about the cabin, the fire, the unbearable heat, the pain she felt. Marissa forgot everything except her family. Outside. Safe.

  All around her the cabin groaned and spit and died. But in her mind, on the Oregon Coast, on that beautiful summer day, Marissa felt no fear.

  Chapter 66

  The boat’s motor whined like a sulky teenager in the powerful current. Seth’s teeth chattered. Hunkered down in the back of the boat, he stared into the soupy night. He couldn’t see shit out here. Between the rain, the wind, and the dark, he was driving blind down the river.

  Bang. The boat shuddered and veered right. Seth pitched forward. He grasped the aluminum sides with both hands, regaining his balance.

  The grinding of metal against rock scraped down the side of the hull, and Seth tightened his grip on the tiller.

  Shit, that was close. Whatever it was could have easily punched through the hull and sent him sailing into the river again, sucked under by the current. This time there would be no monster truck to save him, no firemen or police to fish him out of the river. He was on his own.