Page 21 of No Escape

“Don’t leave me!” Joshua said.

“It’s going to be okay,” Valerie said softly. “If I’m right, two of the finest people I know will be here soon, and they’ll make sure you’re safe.”

“What about you?” he asked.

“I need to stop your cousin,” Valerie said. “Just… don’t tell the authorities we were here, okay?”

“Anything for the lady who saved me.” Joshua smiled.

“Stay safe!” Valerie said.

They dashed out the back door, into the rain-soaked night, and scrambled over a fence. They raced through several backyards, Valerie’s lungs burning with exertion until they reached the truck they had stolen earlier.

As they climbed in, Suzie asked, “Do you think they saw us?”

“I don’t know,” Valerie replied, “but we can’t stick around to find out.”

Just before the police could spot them, they sped off into the darkness, uncertain of where John Murphy was or what he had planned next.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Martha lay in bed, her mind a sea of worry. Darkness often did that to her, but tonight was different. Tonight was worse.

The rain pattered against the window, creating an eerie soundtrack to the late night. The shadows in the room danced and swayed as if the darkness itself were alive. She strained her ears, trying to make out the sound she’d heard over the steady drumming of the raindrops.

“Albert,” she whispered, nudging her husband. “Albert, wake up.”

Albert stirred, grumbling incoherently. “What… what is it, Martha?”

“I heard something downstairs,” she said, her voice barely more than a breath. Her eyes darted around the room, searching the shadows for some unknown threat.

Albert sighed, his annoyance palpable. “It’s probably just the storm, or the house settling. Go back to sleep.”

“No, I heard something move. I’m sure of it,” Martha insisted, her voice growing more urgent. “Please, Albert, just go check.”

Heaving another sigh, Albert pushed the covers off and swung his legs over the side of the bed. “Fine, fine. I’ll go look. But when I come back and tell you it was nothing, you owe me an extra hour of sleep in the morning.”

Martha watched as her husband shuffled out of the bedroom, the dim light from the hallway casting his figure in a ghostly silhouette. She pulled the covers up to her chin and listened intently, her heart thudding in her ears. The storm continued to rage outside, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something more sinister at play.

Martha’s eyes remained wide open, her gaze fixated on the doorway as she waited for Albert to return. The storm continued its relentless assault, the rain’s staccato rhythm providing an eerie soundtrack to her mounting anxiety. Minutes stretched on, feeling like hours, and still, Albert hadn’t come back.

A crack of thunder roared, and she couldn’t help but jump, her pulse racing even faster. Beneath the cacophony of the storm, she thought she’d detected another sound—a muffled thud, perhaps? Her mind raced, conjuring up all manner of terrible possibilities.

“Albert?” she called out hesitantly, her voice barely audible. She cleared her throat, trying again, louder. “Albert! Are you okay?”

Silence answered her, the storm swallowing her cries. Martha’s worry for her husband transformed into outright fear. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong. Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she steeled herself and crept toward the doorway, her bare feet cold against the wood floor.

As she stepped into the hallway, the shadows closed in around her, the darkness pressing against her skin like a living thing. She reached for the railing, her fingers trembling as she began to descend the stairs. Each creaking step echoed through the house, a chilling reminder of the unknown danger that might be lurking below.

“Albert?” she whispered again, her voice shaking as much as her hands. “Please, answer me.”

The storm raged on, indifferent to her terror, as Martha inched her way down the stairs, her legs trembling with tiredness and apprehension.

Martha moved further into the house, her eyes straining to adjust to the oppressive darkness. She caught sight of Albert standing by a door, his back to her. Relief flooded her, and she called out to him, but he remained motionless and silent.

“Albert, what are you doing? I was worried sick!” she snapped, her fear transforming into anger. She marched toward him, determined to confront him for leaving her in such distress.

But as she drew closer, a cold chill ran down her spine, and she realized something was terribly wrong. Albert wasn’t standing of his own accord; he’d been strung up on the corner of the door with a piece of rope. Martha’s knees buckled, and she fought the urge to collapse as her worst fears were confirmed.

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