The Absence of Screams: A Thriller

by Ben Follows

  It was almost noon. The sun was high above the horizon and shined down on the fields in front of him, drying the mud from the previous days’ storm.

  Todd had to squint to see the field in front of him. On the left, he could see the path where Marcus had chased Tatiana and the spot where he had murdered her. It was surrounded by other, less trampled paths where the police had investigated.

  On the right, he could see a path that had been carved by the unmarked police van. He stared at the van and at the crumpled front grill.

  "Please let them be okay," he whispered.

  He caught movement from the corner of his eye and looked down at the driveway in front of him.

  A woman stood in front of the house. She held an assault rifle at her waist and was dressed in military garb.

  She looked back and forth out at the field. She kept checking her radio as though waiting for something.

  Todd looked out the window at the woman a story below him. He glanced back at the blocked door. He knew Ricky would come back and kill him. He only had one option.

  Todd opened the window enough to slip through.

  He looked down at the woman. She was still looking out at the field, looking for something.

  He pulled himself onto the flower box outside the window. It creaked under his weight, but held firm.

  The woman didn't seem to hear anything.

  Todd took a deep breath and gathered both his legs underneath him, wincing at the pain. After a moment, he launched himself from the window.

  He grunted in pain from his injured leg.

  He flew through the air toward the woman as she looked up at the noise. Her eyes opened wide.

  She raised her gun. Her finger was on the trigger.

  Todd collided into her before she got a shot off. His knee hit her chest. He heard something crack.

  They both went sprawling to the ground, rolling through the dirt and grass. Todd lost track of her as he was coated with dirt. All the breath disappeared from his body. His leg throbbed.

  After a few moments, Todd managed to pull himself onto his knees and look over at the woman.

  She was lying on her back, holding her arm and staring up at him. She seemed to be in an immense amount of pain.

  Todd stood. His body was screaming in pain, but he didn't stop. He was being driven by pure adrenaline and rage.

  He picked up the assault rifle from the ground. He held the assault rifle and aimed it at the woman.

  "Where are they?" he said, aiming the gun down at her.

  "Basement," she gasped between gritted teeth. "Don't shoot."

  Todd aimed the gun down at her, feeling a swell of pity. "I'll come back for you," he said.

  He turned and limped toward the house. He draped the strap of the assault rifle over his shoulder and entered the house.

  A scream came from the basement.

  "Marcus?" whispered Todd.

  He made a beeline toward the basement door. He thought of O'Reilly and Dennis and wondered where they were.

  He opened the basement door as quietly as he could.

  He took the steps one at a time. Voices carried up the stairs.

  "All you need to do is sign this," said Ricky, "and it will all be over."

  "Go to hell," said Marcus.

  "Alright, Danielle," said Ricky, "where should the next one should go?"

  “How about we switch it up?“ said Danielle's voice. The cold detachment in her voice terrified Todd. “We don’t need him anymore. Let’s finish the job and truly make him a paraplegic. Let’s make him what he always pretended to be.”

  "Please don't." Marcus's voice was weak and filled with pain.

  "Just sign the form," said Ricky.

  "Never."

  Ricky sighed. "Danielle, get the gun.”

  Todd turned the corner into the basement and raised his assault rifle.

  Marcus was chained to a pipe. A pair of pliers were on his stomach, and various other spots on his body had turned blue from loss of blood. Danielle was reaching for a gun on the table.

  Marcus's eyes opened wide when he saw Todd.

  Ricky frowned and followed where his captive was looking.

  Todd pulled the trigger, spraying bullets in Ricky's general direction. He wasn't expecting the recoil and most of the bullets in the magazine ended up embedded in the wall behind Ricky.

  Ricky stumbled backwards grasping at his arm and leg, where a few of the bullets had hit. Another wound appeared on his shoulder. He stumbled backwards and fell against the wall.

  The sheet of paper fluttered to the floor. Marcus looked down at it.

  Todd hobbled across the basement and stood over Ricky.

  "Any last words?" he said, standing over Ricky and staring down at him.

  Ricky looked up at him and laughed.

  "What are you laughing about?" said Todd.

  "Are you really going to make the same mistake twice?"

  "Todd!" shouted Marcus. "Watch out!"

  Todd turned.

  Danielle was running toward him, the pliers held high above her head. The gun was still on the table.

  She swung the pliers like a tennis racket.

  They hit Todd in his ear, sending him scrambling backwards as a ringing filled his world.

  Todd stumbled and grabbed his head.

  He looked up.

  Danielle screamed and ran at him. "You stupid piece of shit!" she shouted.

  She swung the pliers through the air, aiming for Todd's head again.

  Todd raised the assault rifle in front of his head.

  The pliers hit the assault rifle and sent the gun flying through the air. It bounced along the floor toward the staircase.

  Danielle finished her swing and kicked his injured leg.

  Todd screamed in pain and grabbed his leg.

  "Todd!" Marcus yelled. "Grab the gun on the table!"

  "Shut up!" yelled Danielle.

  Todd dove for the metal table and grabbed the first thing he got his hands on.

  He stood on his one good leg, holding the table with one hand and a wrench with the other.

  He limped backwards and kept Danielle in his view. Ricky sat in the corner, trying to stop his wounds from bleeding out and watching the fight.

  "Todd!" shouted Marcus. "Break the pipe! I can help you!"

  "Shut up!" screamed Danielle.

  She swung the pliers at Todd. He blocked with the wrench.

  "Is this what Tatiana would have wanted?" shouted Marcus. "Her daughter murdering and torturing people?"

  "Shut up!" shouted Danielle. "This doesn't concern you!"

  Todd swung the wrench. Danielle ducked and it hit empty air.

  "Of course it concerns me!" shouted Marcus. "Look at what you've done!"

  Danielle turned toward Marcus and pointed at him with the pliers. "Shut it!"

  Todd swung the wrench at Danielle but redirected the swing halfway through. Danielle, turning back from looking at Marcus, didn't react in time to the redirect and took a hit directly to the stomach.

  Danielle keeled over and dropped the pliers, grabbing her stomach.

  Todd stood over her and leaned against the wall so he wouldn't have to put any more weight on his injured leg.

  "I loved you," he said.

  She looked up as Todd swung the wrench like a baseball bat. Danielle raised her arm to block the blow, but wasn't fast enough. The hit took her in the cheek.

  She tumbled to one side, her body becoming motionless.

  Todd looked down at Danielle's unconscious body. She was still breathing.

  "Todd, get these off me," said Marcus. "There's a key on the table."

  "Todd," said Ricky, pushing himself to his feet. "I can give you more money than you can imagine."

  Todd walked over to the assault rifle by the stairs.

  He picked it up and pointed it at Ricky.

  Ricky held up his hands.

  Todd walked to Danielle's unconscious body.

&nbs
p; He looked down the barrel and lined it up with her head.

  "Todd," said Marcus. "Don't do this."

  "He's right," said Ricky. "You don't have the guts."

  "Why shouldn't I kill her?" said Todd, staring down at Danielle. "She stole everything from me."

  "I thought the same thing when I killed Tatiana," said Marcus. "Nothing but worse things have followed. What do you think will happen if you kill her? What future will you have?"

  "It doesn't matter," said Todd.

  "Yes, it does," said Marcus. "The future is the only thing that matters. You're still young. Do you want to spend 50 years in prison?"

  Another voice, a female voice, said, "He's right, Todd. Put down the gun."

  Todd turned.

  Detective O'Reilly was standing in the doorway to the basement. She held an assault rifle just like the one in Todd's hands.

  Todd looked back at Danielle. "Did you find Cockerton?"

  "I did."

  "And?"

  She didn't say anything.

  "I'm sorry," said Todd.

  "Backup is here," she said. "We have the house surrounded. It's over, Todd. Leave now and you'll never need to think about this ever again."

  Todd heard sirens in the driveway.

  He heard shouting and running.

  He felt a sense of relief wash over him.

  He looked at Danielle one more time before he dropped the gun onto the floor. It bounced a few times before coming to a rest.

  He walked past O'Reilly and up the stairs without another word.

  The house was swarming with police officers and technicians who looked up as he walked past.

  He walked out the front door. There were dozens of police cars around the house. He walked to the edge of the porch and sat on the top step, staring at the fields absentmindedly.

  The woman he had jumped onto was sitting in the back seat of a patrol car.

  Todd's eyes rested on her for just a moment.

  Paramedics noticed him and began running.

  He sat on the front step and took his pack of cigarettes from his pocket. He lit one and inhaled. He blew the smoke into the breeze over the fields of wheat.

  77

  "Marcus Devereaux?" said O'Reilly, walking across the basement toward the man covered in wounds. He was missing one finger from his left hand. She'd only seen Marcus briefly in the back of Ricky's van.

  Danielle lay face down on the floor to her left.

  "Detective," said Ricky calmly. "I can explain all of this. Danielle was the brains. She forced me to do terrible things. She manipulated me."

  "Don't dare move," said O'Reilly, pointing the gun at Ricky.

  "Detective," said Marcus weakly, "there's a key on the table for the cuffs. Would you kindly get it for me?"

  Without taking her eyes off either of the men in front of her, she grabbed the key off the table and walked up to Marcus. She glanced at the gun sitting there but didn’t touch it.

  "He's dangerous," said Ricky. "Don't do that."

  "Be quiet," said O'Reilly.

  She slipped the keys into the left hand of Marcus's cuffs and unlocked it. His hand came loose and the cuffs slid over the pipe.

  Marcus fell to the floor in a crumpled mess. He sat up and took the key from O'Reilly.

  O'Reilly stepped back and watched him.

  Marcus rubbed his wrists and breathed a sigh of relief.

  Ricky sat back in the corner, watching and remaining silent.

  "Are you okay?" said O'Reilly.

  "Almost," said Marcus, taking a deep breath. "Pass me the knife on the table."

  Ricky looked up at her. "Don't do that, detective."

  "Why?" she said.

  "Marcus is a murderer," said Ricky. "Don't give a murderer a weapon."

  "I wasn't talking to you." She gestured at Marcus. "Why do you need the knife?"

  "To finish this," said Marcus.

  "I can't let you do that," said O'Reilly.

  Marcus looked up at her.

  "Think of what Ricky did to you," said Marcus. "He turned you and Cockerton against each other. Think of the lives he's destroyed. Give me the knife. I'll go with you willingly if you let me do this. I'll tell you everything you want to know."

  Ricky laughed. "You played a role in this too, Marcus."

  O'Reilly looked between the two of them.

  She walked to the table and grabbed the large serrated hunting knife. There was blood on it.

  She tossed it toward Marcus. It landed on the floor before him.

  "What are you doing?" said Ricky.

  "Thank you, detective," said Marcus. He picked up the knife and looked at Ricky.

  "Marcus, what are you doing?" said Ricky.

  O'Reilly stood back and watched, keeping an eye on Marcus, Ricky, and Danielle.

  Marcus pulled himself along the floor toward Ricky. His legs dragged behind him. At no point did he look at the unconscious form of his daughter.

  Marcus made it to Ricky. His toe left a trail of blood behind him. He began pushing with his feet, as though mentally pushing through the temporary paralysis that Ricky had inflicted upon him through sheer force of will.

  "Detective," shouted Ricky, fear creeping into his voice, "what are you doing? Stop him!"

  Ricky kicked at Marcus, hitting him in the face and breaking his nose. Blood began pouring from Marcus's nose and coating the bottom half of his face, but he didn't slow.

  Marcus grabbed onto Ricky's leg with his free hand, then pushed himself with his legs. Blood flowed from his foot.

  Ricky kicked at him, but Marcus kept coming. He pulled himself up Ricky's leg.

  "Detective, do your fucking job!" Ricky shouted.

  O'Reilly pointed the gun at both of them and listened for footsteps above them.

  Ricky tried to punch Marcus, and connected a few times, but wasn't able to stop Marcus from pulling himself on top of him.

  Marcus raised the arm which held the knife and plunged it down at Ricky.

  Ricky caught Marcus's wrist just inches before the blade of the knife hit his chest.

  Marcus pushed down on the knife as Ricky pushed back, desperately trying to save himself.

  "I win," said Marcus as he pushed down, a vein popping out on his forehead. "No matter what you did, you never broke me. I want you to remember that."

  Marcus jerked downwards, putting all his weight on top of the knife as he pushed it down toward Ricky, who was sweating and straining against the weight of Marcus and the knife.

  With a final push from Marcus, the knife plunged into Ricky's chest. Ricky gasped as the knife dug into his chest.

  "You never broke me," said Marcus as Ricky's head went slack and fell backwards against the stone floor of the basement.

  Marcus took a deep breath and fell on top of Ricky.

  O'Reilly slowly approached, glancing back to make sure Danielle hadn't moved. Ricky stared lifelessly at the ceiling.

  "Marcus Devereaux," she said, standing over them. "You're under arrest for several counts of murder."

  Marcus didn't reply. He laid on top of Ricky, his hand still grasping the knife in Ricky's chest.

  O'Reilly approached, gun aimed at his head. She nudged him with her foot.

  There was no reaction.

  She reached down and flipped Marcus onto his back. There was no resistance.

  Marcus's lifeless eyes stared up at the ceiling. A triumphant grin adorned his face.

  O'Reilly leaned over. She put her fingers on Marcus's eyelids and pulled them shut.

  Epilogue

  Baxter ran back to Todd, a slobbery ball in his mouth.

  The dog dropped the ball on the bench beside Todd before sitting back on his haunches, tongue hanging out, waiting for Todd to throw the ball.

  Todd looked up from his accounting textbook, grabbed the ball, and chucked it across the park.

  The moment the ball left his hand, Baxter took off at a sprint.

  Todd smiled at the sun shinin
g on a bright spring day.

  The trees were filled with fresh green leaves.

  Baxter fetched the ball and ran back, once again leaving it on the bench and waiting for Todd.

  As soon as he had finished the chapter, he threw the ball again. Baxter sprinted away.

  "Todd?"

  Todd looked up and frowned. "Detective O'Reilly?"

  O'Reilly was wearing a t-shirt and jeans instead of the suits she had always been wearing during their interactions.

  "Just call me Emily," she said. "I almost didn't recognize you. You're not wearing a hoodie."

  "Thanks," said Todd, looking at his long-sleeved shirt. "I decided it was time to start taking my life a little more seriously. How are you doing, detective?"

  O'Reilly grinned. "For the time being, I'm not a detective. Do you mind if I sit?"

  "Sure." Todd picked up the books and notes he had piled on the bench beside him and put them into his backpack.

  O'Reilly took a seat beside him.

  "I wasn’t expecting to see you here," said Todd.

  O'Reilly nodded to the nearby classroom building. "My niece goes to school here. I decided to come visit while I'm suspended."

  "Why are you suspended?"

  O'Reilly leaned back. "I'm suspended pending a full review of my actions. I think I'll be okay. General Thompson is supporting my actions." She sighed and looked around. "You're going to school here?"

  "I wanted to get a degree before what happened but I couldn’t bring myself to uproot my whole life. Afterwards I would have done anything to get out of Harper's Mill. I sold my house and everything and moved out here. It's funny in a way. I'd never have gotten into this place beforehand. Apparently, I had the best admission essay they'd ever read. They asked us to write about a life-changing experience. They gave me a full scholarship."

  O'Reilly smiled. "I doubt many people could top yours." She paused. "How are you doing, Todd?"

  He looked over the park. "I've been doing a lot better, since the trial ended. Until I moved out here and got a new phone number, I got one call a week from Danielle. She was using her one call a week from prison on me."

  "What did she say?"

  Todd looked over the park. "I never answered. The messages were always about how she deserves one more chance. I listened to the first few then deleted them. The future is what matters."