Page 55 of Girl, Undone
Suddenly, a noise.A soft scuttling, like the whisper of cloth against floorboards.Ella spun around.
‘Dylan, you’re not getting out of here,’ Ella shouted as she took the room slowly, step by step, pulling open cupboards one by one.Each cupboard revealed nothing but shadows and mundane kitchenware, but she could feel the unmistakable presence of another body in the room.
She reached the last cupboard in line – a large door that could have led to a pantry or separate room.Ella’s hand trembled as she gripped the handle, because there was every chance she was opening herself up for an ambush.
And then, with a suddenness that stole her breath, Dylan burst from within, shoulder-barging Ella and sending her stumbling against the rickety white island in the center of the room.The impact against her spine snatched the air from her lungs, but Ella had no time for pain.Her finger hovered over the trigger of her pistol, the temptation to shoot a fierce battle of wills.But she resisted; shooting was a last resort, not the first response.
Dylan didn't pause.He took advantage of Ella's momentary imbalance and darted past her.He fled through a side door that led into unexplored territory, at least for her.She thought of Julia, Thomas, and Rebecca – three souls who'd never have the chance to flee or fight, as she could now.She surged forward in pursuit of the man who might have been their killer, and found herself in a living room.Heavy drapes swallowed any light that was trying to enter through the windows, but Ella could see the suspect in plain view.He was scrambling near the fireplace, and suddenly the man emerged with a black fire poker in his hand.
He gripped it like and began circling towards the windows, then raised it with his teeth clenched.It was the stance of a man with nothing left to lose.
Ella halted and trained her pistol on him.She could see the chaos there, the fear, the madness that drove him.A part of her wanted to shoot and incapacitate, but shooting always came with a risk.She could miss or he could bleed out, and dead suspects couldn’t confess.
‘Dylan, don't do this.It doesn't have to end like this.’
‘I’m not going anywhere,’ Dylan shouted.Ella quickly scanned his body language as she tried to edge close enough to intercept.He was panicked, nervous, twitchy.It was in the heat of battle that people always showed their true colors, and Ella easily determined that the man in front of her was a coward.
‘It’s already over,’ Ella said.‘Easy way or hard way.You choose.’
But Dylan was beyond reason, no doubt fueled by survival instinct.He swung the poker in a desperate attempt to fend off his attacker, and to create space between him and the inevitable.
Ella dodged.Her finger itched on the trigger of her Glock, but she didn’t want to shoot.She needed Dylan Hartley alive because death wasn’t punishment enough.In a sudden burst of movement, Dylan lunged forward and aimed the poker at Ella's heart.Time seemed to slow, and so Ella easily sidestepped as Dylan stumbled forward, off-balance from his failed strike.
Ella saw her opening.
She identified three pressure points; one which could leave Dylan with brain damage, another which could destroy his ability to reproduce.
Ella played it safe and went for the third option.
She clutched her pistol, lifted the butt, and thrust it hard into Dylan's nose.She felt the familiar but undeniably satisfying squelch of fleshy tissue being pulverized, followed by the sickening crunch of bone.Dylan's scream was sharp and shrill as he collapsed towards the ground, then he dropped the poker as he clutched his bloodied face.Ella kicked the weapon out of reach and put one foot on Dylan's spine.
‘It’s done,’ Ella said.
She trained her pistol on his leg – a clear shot.
There was no escape.He was no longer the predator, no longer the man who had haunted her thoughts and driven her pursuit.He was just a man, and now his reign of terror was at an end.
Ella stepped off Dylan’s spine.He rolled onto his back.Dylan removed his cupped hands from his face and revealed a crimson mask underneath.His eyes were unfocused, the madness that had driven him now replaced by a dawning awareness.He was a wounded animal that now realized the hunt was over.
‘I didn’t do anything,’ Dylan spat.
‘That’s for the courts to decide.Your little game is over.’She grabbed her handcuffs from her back pocket.
‘It was months ago,’ Dylan cried, clutching his nose again.‘It was just a few texts, for God’s sake.’
Ella regarded him with pity.It still amazed her how suspects would lie in the face of evidence.
‘Texts, huh?Seems like a lot more than that to me.’She bent down, grabbed one wrist.‘I know all about your little app.’
‘My app?Scarecrow?What about it?’
‘Don’t play dumb.’
‘I thought this was about my ex,’ Dylan spat.
Ella paused, her movements halting mid-action as she processed Dylan's words.His reaction, the genuine confusion clouding his bloodied face, wasn't the demeanor of a man caught in a lie.It was the expression of someone blindsided by an accusation.
‘What?The app, Dylan.It’s linked to every victim.’
