Page 52 of Silent Smile

His jaw tightened, but he didn’t answer.

She pressed harder, her voice trembling with both fear and resolve. "You’re a hypocrite, you know that? Killing people, burying them in the dunes—how is that any better than what those tourists did? You’re not protecting this place. You're ruining it."

That struck a nerve. Einar whirled on her, his face contorted with fury. "You don't know what the hell you're talking about!"

Nora took a half step back, clutching the shovel tighter. "Then explain it to me," she said, her tone steadying. "Help me understand."

For a moment, he seemed to wrestle with himself, his grip on the knife loosening slightly. Finally, he snapped. "Fine. You want to know why I'm doing this? Because no one else will do it. I’ve watched these dunes for forty years—watched them get trampled, disrespected, desecrated. Those influencers last summer? They laughed in my face when I tried to stop them. Said the fines were worth it for the 'likes' they’d get."

He began pacing again, his voice rising with anger. "And the park board—they told me we needed the publicity. The visitors. Like we were selling tickets to some sideshow. That’s when I realized the system is broken. The dunes needed someone to take a stand. To treat the dunes as sacred again."

His voice cracked, raw with conviction. "What I'm doing… it’s not murder, Nora. It’s sacrifice. The dunes demanded it."

Nora’s heart thundered in her chest. He was completely unhinged, but his pacing was erratic now, his grip on the knife slack. This was her chance.

Without hesitation, she dropped the shovel and bolted, sand shifting beneath her feet as she sprinted toward the ridge. Thenight air tore at her lungs, and the dunes seemed to tilt and sway as she ran. Her breath came in ragged gasps, her legs burning with every desperate step. She didn’t look back—she couldn’t afford to.

"Stop!" Einar’s voice roared behind her, a guttural command that shook the stillness of the night.

Her foot slipped in the loose sand, and she staggered, nearly falling. But she caught herself, using the momentum to push forward, adrenaline surging through her veins. The ridge wasn’t far now—maybe fifty yards. If she could just make it over the crest, she might find cover or a way to lose him.

Behind her, Einar’s heavy footsteps pounded, muffled by the shifting sand. He was faster than she had anticipated, but she had a lead. She forced herself to keep moving, her body screaming in protest.

She reached the base of the ridge, the incline steeper than it had looked from a distance. The sand was soft and unstable, making every step a struggle. Her hands clawed at the ground, pulling herself upward as gravity threatened to drag her back down.

Einar’s voice carried through the darkness, closer now, laced with both anger and something almost pleading. "Don’t make this harder than it has to be, Nora! You’re only wasting time."

Nora ignored him, the ridge’s crest just a few feet away. Her fingers dug into the cold sand, and she pulled herself over the top. She paused for just a second to gaze down the other side. A small valley of dunes stretched out before her, dark and alien in the moonlight. It wasn’t much, but it was a chance.

She half-ran, half-slid down the slope, each step a gamble as she tried to maintain balance. The bottom was close now—just a few more strides.

If she could reach the far side of the ridge, maybe she could find another ridge, another hiding place. Her legs screamed in protest, but she forced them to keep moving.

The flat expanse of the valley seemed to stretch endlessly before her, every step an eternity. She stumbled, her ankle twisting slightly, and cried out in pain. Still, she pushed on, her vision blurring from the effort.

"Nora!" Einar’s voice was closer now, almost within reach. The sheer force of it sent a fresh wave of terror through her. She couldn’t let him catch her—not yet, not here.

Her foot caught on a buried rock, and this time she couldn’t recover. She hit the ground hard, the impact driving the air from her lungs. Sand filled her mouth and nose as she struggled to push herself up. But it was too late.

Einar’s hand closed around her arm, yanking her to her feet with a force that sent pain shooting through her shoulder. She screamed, clawing at his grip, but he held firm. The knife gleamed in his other hand, a deadly promise.

"You should’ve stayed still," he hissed, his voice low and venomous, his breath hot against her ear. "Now you’ve made it worse for yourself."

Nora thrashed, desperate to break free, but his grip was unrelenting. The moonlight illuminated his face—his expression was calm, almost serene, but his eyes burned with a terrifying intensity.

"Let me go!" she cried, tears streaming down her face.

Einar shook his head slowly, almost pityingly. "There's no sense delaying the inevitable any longer."

He dragged her back toward the ridge, her feet stumbling over the shifting sand. Every step felt like a death knell, her earlier burst of hope now a distant memory. She gasped for air, her mind racing for another way out, but Einar’s grip was ironclad.

As they reached the ridge, he shoved her forward, forcing her to climb back up. The knife pressed into her back, its cold steel a warning not to resist. When they returned to the hole, he gestured sharply.

"Get in," he ordered, his voice cold as the night.

Nora hesitated, her tears falling freely now. "Einar, please. It’s not too late to stop this. We can fix this. Together. This isn't who you are. You're kind, gentle—a good person."

His eyes hardened, all traces of the man she once knew gone. "That man is dead," he said. "Now get in."

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