Page 10 of No Escape

“Another couple of hours,” Charlie replied, glancing at the clock on the dashboard.

Will nodded, his expression thoughtful. “The past is haunting us all,” he said cryptically, his words sending a shiver down Charlie’s spine.

Charlie looked at him, curiosity piqued. “What do you mean?”

Will hesitated before revealing that Damian Skorzeny, a killer he had put away years ago, was now out and had paid him a visit. He claimed to be reformed, but Will couldn’t shake the feeling of being under threat.

“The memory of Damian’s cold, dead eyes, the way they seemed to bore into my very soul,” Will said, often sounding too poetic for Charlie’s tastes. “It’s haunted my thoughts since he visited me, to be honest, old chap. I can’t prove he killed more people, but I am convinced he did. The police department I was helping at the time just never found the evidence they needed.”

Charlie frowned, his jaw clenched with anger. “They should never have let him out,” he growled, the fury in his voice almost tangible. He remembered Will talking about Skorzeny during their last case, and Charlie was adamant then and adamant now that he should be behind bars forever.

As the miles slipped by and the darkness deepened, Charlie thought about how they were facing parallel challenges. Since he and Valerie had met Will a couple of years earlier, and Jackson Weller had set up the Criminal Psychopathy Unit, their cases had taken many twists and turns, and sometimes there were connections that felt almost like the hand of fate was hovering above.

“Valerie is facing something similar at Shady Pines with John Murphy being there,” Charlie finally said. “Like an old wound coming back to haunt her.”

Now I sound like a two-bit poet, Charlie thought.

His eyes darkened as he considered the implications of Valerie living under the same roof as one of their previous suspects. And then there was this Skorzeny individual, sniffing around Will. The thought of two dangerous killers, both claiming to be reformed, sent a chill down his spine. He knew all too well the damage these men were capable of, and the idea of them being free to roam the world filled him with dread.

The rain continued to fall in relentless sheets, obscuring the road ahead and making it difficult to see. Charlie smacked the radio with his hand, but it still only buzzed rather than sang.

He squinted through the downpour, his mind racing as he tried to anticipate what lay ahead. He couldn’t help but feel as though they were driving headlong into a nightmare, the storm a harbinger of the darkness to come.

The wind howled like a wild beast, clawing at the car as if it sought to tear them from the road. The trees bent and swayed in the gale, their branches dancing like marionettes controlled by some unseen force. The world outside was a chaotic maelstrom, reflecting the turmoil that swirled within their hearts.

As they navigated the treacherous roads, Charlie and Will continued their conversation, discussing their past cases and the colleagues they had worked with over the years. They spoke of the triumphs and failures, the lives they had saved and the ones they had lost. The memories were bittersweet, a mix of pride and regret that left a lingering ache in their souls.

“Do you ever think we could have saved more?” Will asked.

“Every day,” Charlie said.

“That’s exactly why I don’t want Skorzeny or this John Murphy fellow to be free.”

As they grew closer to Shady Pines Psychiatric Retreat, the storm intensified, the lightning illuminating the dark sky like a strobe light. The thunder rumbled, shaking the very ground beneath them as if the gods themselves were expressing their anger and frustration.

“We’re getting close,” Charlie said, his voice barely audible over the cacophony of the storm. “Just a few more miles.”

Will nodded, his expression grim as he stared out the window. The rain had turned the world into a watery blur, the shadows of the trees flickering like ghostly apparitions in the darkness. There was a palpable sense of foreboding, a feeling that they were on the brink of something terrible, something that would change them all forever.

Charlie felt something strange on the wind. Like the end of things was hiding around the corner. A terminus for all of them.

“Nothing good can come from any of this,” Charlie muttered, his words echoing the fear and uncertainty that lurked in the depths of their hearts.

And yet the car raced through the storm, raced to meet their friend in her hour of need.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Valerie stared at the blank ceiling above as if waiting for an answer. An answer that would never come.

The storm growled and bellowed outside the main building at Shady Pines, a symphony of thunder and rain that echoed through the halls of the facility. Valerie lay in her bed, consumed by thoughts of John Murphy and the danger he posed. As the wind howled and lashed at the windows, she couldn’t shake the idea that he was waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike.

With each crash of thunder and gust of wind, her fear grew, morphing into a terrifying realization: the storm might provide the perfect cover for Murphy to escape. The ferocious sound would drown out any noise he made, allowing him to break free from his room and roam the halls of Shady Pines undetected.

I need to do something!she thought, finally coming upon a course of action in her mind.

Determined to ensure that Murphy remained confined, Valerie decided to check on him. She swung her legs out of bed, her feet hitting the cold, sterile floor. With a deep breath, she steeled herself for the task ahead and slipped out of her room.

The empty corridors of Shady Pines loomed before her, bathed in a ghostly blue light that shimmered and danced with each flash of lightning. The shadows cast by the flickering illumination seemed to come alive, twisting and contorting into monstrous shapes that appeared to reach for her as she moved cautiously through the halls.

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