Tag: thriller

  • Week 214 – There in a heap on the floor lay

    A man stood there smiling cheerfully at them, he’d just tossed a body on the floor, and Walt had to assume that the grinning man was Becca’s cousin Benjy and there in a heap on the floor lay her brother Brody.

    At least that’s what he thought until Becca gasped.

    “Brody?” she asked incredulously at the man smiling at them.

    “What?” he asked sharply.

    “But Benjy was the one who through me in the car, I heard his voice while I ran,” Becca stammered.

    “I think in his own twisted way he was trying to save you,” Brody informed her.

    “From you?” Becca asked, the pain evident in her tone cut through him. It looked like he had been right all along and Brody was the killer not Benjy, he felt no joy at being right, he’d do anything to spare Becca this betrayal by the brother she had defended.

    Brody shrugged.

    “Why?” the word was an agonised cry and Becca shuddered in his arms as she wept.

    “I got sick of hearing about poor Benjy and his damaged brain, and perfect Becca who could do no wrong. Thought this was the perfect way to eliminate both of you.” The smile Brody shot them was borderline maniacal, the man was clearly unbalanced and Walt had no idea how he was going to get himself, Becca, and Benjy-if he was still alive-out of here.

    “So you’re going to kill us?” Walt asked.

    “Well I wasn’t planning on killing you or your partner but you got in the way, so yeah.” Brody shrugged again like the whole thing was boring him now. “Everyone thinks Benjy is the killer, they’ll assume he decided to go out in a blaze of glory taking the object of his obsession with him.” Brody held up a lighter and flicked it so a small flame flickered.

    “No, Brody, please,” Becca sobbed, shaking harder now.

    “Tears aren’t going to change anything, Bec,” Brody said. “And I gotta go, unfortunately I’m going to be the only one who managed to escape this tragic event.” The crazy man slammed a hand into his own face, breaking his nose if the blood that started to flow from it was any indication. Then he slammed himself into the wall a few times and ripped at his clothes.

    While Brody was preoccupied Walt started inching backwards, heading away from Becca’s brother and hoping there was another way out.

    “There’s nowhere to go, Detective,” Brody announced. “But you’re welcome to try. Better be quick though.” He flicked the lighter again then gave them a little wave. “So long, sis, hope the smoke takes you out before the flames get you.” A glimmer of regret crossed his features but he quickly wiped it away and walked to the door, lighting a rag and tossing it onto the ground.

    Brody had obviously doused the place in an accelerant because flames immediately sprung to live.

    And Walt had no idea how to get himself and Becca out of here alive.

  • Week 213 – Every last ounce

    Blood. Pain. Exhaustion.

    Those three things swirled around in Becca’s subconscious as she hovered between consciousness and unconsciousness.

    Slowly fragments of memory started to return. The fire, jumping from the second storey of her brother’s house, the man grabbing her, the jump from the trunk, running for her life, Walt appearing, the gunshots, pain in her head.

    Using every last ounce of strength she had, Becca forced her eyes open to find herself and Walt in a large building, maybe a warehouse or something. Her ankles were bound, her left knee swollen and puffy from landing on it, there were stabbing pains in her chest every time she breathed so she thought she might have cracked some ribs, and her left shoulder hurt so badly she was pretty sure it was shattered.

    Walt wasn’t moving and even in the dim light she could see blood streaking his face.

    Was he dead?

    No, he was bound, hands and feet, so he couldn’t be dead.

    He was lying about three feet away but with the way her body hurt it may as well have been three thousand. Gritting her teeth, Becca used her good arm to help her shuffle along on her bottom to reach Walt.

    “Walt?” she whispered, shaking him, she needed him to wake up, she … needed him. That was a weird feeling for someone like her who had spent most of her life being fiercely independent. “Wake up, please,” she begged.

    Beneath her hand she felt him stir, then he grunted, and his eyes snapped open. He jerked upright then winced at the movement, his eyes rolled a little and she was sure he was about to pass out again, but then he saw her.

    “Becca,” he said on an exhale, his gaze raking over her and obviously not liking what he saw. “You’re hurt.”

    She nodded, she was and she wasn’t sure she had enough strength left to walk out of here, but she could do whatever it took to get Walt out. “He shot you.”

    “Skimmed my head, I think I hit it when the force made me loose my balance, concussion but I’ll be fine,” he said so seriously that she believed in spite of the blood and the look of pain on his face.

    “He only tied my ankles so my hands are free, I might be able to get you untied,” she said, gesturing to the ropes binding him.

    He took in the way her left arm was cradled protectively against her chest and appeared doubtful but he nodded and shuffled around so his back was to her.

    It took her a long time since she only had one hand to work with but eventually she got the knot to loosen a little.

    “I can get my hands through that, just hold it still,” Walt said. She did and a moment later he wriggled his hands free. “Rest for a minute while I untie my ankles,” he ordered as he looked around the warehouse, obviously working on a plan to get them both out of here alive.

    Since she was so tired she was shaking, Becca did as he said, resting back against the wall and closing her eyes, trying to compartmentalise the pain so she could help Walt however he needed her to.

    “Lets go.” She was gathered up into Walt’s strong arms, doing her best not to cry out as the movement jostled her shoulder, crying wasn’t going to help right now so she had to do her best to ignore the pain.

    “I can walk,” she offered, knowing Walt was hurting too, he shouldn’t have to carry her added weight.

    “No. You can’t,” he stated flatly. “I’m surprised you’re even conscious with the amount of pain I know you’re in. You’re a mess.”

    His brutally honest words surprised a chuckle out of her. “You don’t mince words do you?”

    “Don’t see the point. And I know you would walk if you could, I know you’re strong, Becca, I’ve seen it in the way you fought when you thought I was an intruder, in the way you defended your brother, in the way you ran for your life. You jumped from the moving car didn’t you? Its how you got hurt.”

    “Knew you would be coming, that I just had to stay alive till you got there. And you did come for me.” Despite the pain she snuggled into Walt’s arms, resting her head on his broad shoulder.

    “No way I wouldn’t come for you,” he vowed as he carried her across the warehouse to a door.

    They were most of the way there when it suddenly swung open. A body was tossed inside and then a cheery voice announced, “Sorry, I’m late to this little family reunion, had one more person to bring to join us.”

  • Week 212 – Into the woods

    She was gone.

    Walt wanted to hit something but since that wasn’t conducive to finding Becca, and he only ever did things that were logical and sensible-except when it came to Becca it seemed-he refrained.

    “Walt, we’ll find her, man,” Cooper said as he parked his car out the front of Becca’s brother’s house and came jogging over.

    “We don’t even know who took her,” he reminded his partner.

    “But you got part of the licence plate and we’re working on tracking the vehicle’s movements,” Cooper reminded him.

    Didn’t seem like enough.

    It had been at least twenty minutes since Becca’s abduction, that was plenty of time for her assailant to do whatever he wanted to her.

    “You think it was Brody or Benjy?” Cooper asked.

    “Could be, its dark and it happened so quickly,” he replied. Add to that that he’d been terrified as he watched the woman he … couldn’t get out of his mind, be kidnapped.

    Cooper’s phone rang, and from the grin on his face it was good news. “Got a lead on the car, it was caught on CCTV cameras heading out of town.”

    “Lets go.” Walt practically ran to Cooper’s car and jumped in, they couldn’t take his because his keys were lost in the burned house.

    Fifteen minutes later they were on the outskirts of the city, and came across a car parked at the side of the road.

    “Is that it?” Walt asked as they stopped behind it.

    “Looks like it.”

    They both got out and ran to the car, finding the trunk popped open and the front door flung open like the car had stopped all of a sudden. Had Becca …

    “No, sweetheart, tell me you didn’t jump out of the moving car,” he murmured, she could have killed herself doing that, she definitely would have walked away injured, but the fact that neither Becca or her abductor were here meant she must have survived the fall.

    Walt didn’t hesitate, he ran into the woods. If Becca was out here he’d find her.

    Nothing else was acceptable.

    Because he had to assume the kidnapper was out here too he couldn’t yell out Becca’s name, but if she was hurt he had to assume she couldn’t have gone far, and it didn’t take long before he spotted something huddled behind a tree.

    Relief hit him hard as he ran to her, dropping to his knees at her side. “Its okay, sweetheart, its Walt,” he said as he reached for her.

    Becca lifted her head, looking dazed and groggy, even in the dark he could see blood and dirt streaking her left side and the way she held her arm clutched to her chest, she was in a lot of pain.

    “Walt,” she said softly, a smile on her face and she reached out with her good hand for him.

    Something inside him settled, a peace that hit him should deep. What was it about this woman? Why did she get to him like this? He’d only known her twenty-four hours and yet she seemed as vital to his survival as breathing.

    “I’m here,” he said, carefully pulling her to him. “Do you know who took you?”

    “It was …”

    She was cut off when someone started shooting at them, Cooper grunted and he heard his partner fall to the ground behind them, as he tackled Becca, covering her body with his own and trying to ignore her muffled scream of pain. He was reaching for his own weapon when pain exploded in his head and the world ceased to exist.

  • Week 211 – She tried to calm her breathing

    Her head slammed painfully into the side of the trunk as she was tossed inside.

    She heard Walt scream her name in the second before the darkness closed in on her. Becca didn’t do so well in enclosed spaces, ever since the car accident that had changed her cousin where they had been trapped in the car, as it sat in the lake, slowly filling with water.

    That same panic she’d felt that day coursed through her now.

    She tried to calm her breathing, she wasn’t giving up, Walt would be looking for her and she knew he would find her. It was crazy they had only known each other for twenty-four hours and yet she trusted him with her life.

    He would come and until he did she would stay alive.

    Whoever had grabbed her hadn’t restrained her, just grabbed her and threw her in here before driving off, that was an advantage she couldn’t waste. She had to find the latch that would open the trunk, if she could get it open then she could jump.

    That could be a suicide move but it was all she had right now.

    Being jolted around made it difficult but it didn’t take her too long to locate what she was looking for. Becca knew she only had once chance at this, as soon as she pulled it and the trunk opened there would no doubt be an alert in the car telling the driver what had happened.

    So it was open and jump.

    No time to think about it or second guess herself.

    “Please be looking for me, Walt,” she whispered, and then acted.

    Her fingers curled around the latch, pulled it, and the trunk obediently opened. Becca shoved it up, took a quick glance around and noticed that they were outside of town, nothing but trees on all side. She’d hoped they’d be in the suburbs still, able to get to help, but beggars couldn’t be choosers, she could still hope to hide long enough for her abductor to give up and leave.

    Sucking in a breath she did it, she jumped.

    Becca felt like she hung in the air for a long moment before landing. Pain tore through her shoulder and left side as she hit the road hard.

    It longer than it should have for her to stagger to her feet, clutching her left arm to her chest as she stumbled towards the trees. Becca knew that if she didn’t keep moving then she would die.

    With that choice it was a no brainer.

    Moving as fast as she could to put as much distance between herself and the road as she could it wasn’t long before she heard a voice.

    The voice of her nightmares.

    “Becca, I know you’re out there, you won’t get away from me, I’m too invested in this, and you know I always get what I want,” Benjy singsonged.

    No way.

    She had too much to live for to let her cousin get his hands on her. And shockingly enough that too much to live for included a certain grumpy homicide detective she prayed was going to find her in time.

  • Week 210 – He smelled smoke

    Lights out, breaking glass, and was that … he smelled smoke.

    Great.

    Just great, Walt thought bitterly. He finally gave in to his burning desire for the pretty redhead lying beneath him and someone decided to attack the house.

    “What happened?” Becca asked, exhaustion left dark smudges beneath her eyes, and her swollen lips reminded him of what they’d been about to do. Mistake or not he wouldn’t have regretted it.

    “Someone just set fire to your brother’s house,” he told her, reluctantly standing and pulling her up with him. She swayed and he snapped an arm around her waist, anchoring her against him.

    “Fire? What? Why? Who?’ she asked.

    “I’d take an answer to any of those,” he said dryly as he pulled her along with him, out into the hall. Immediately he saw the flames, dancing at the bottom of the stairs and knew that they weren’t getting out through the front door.

    “Where are we going?” Becca asked, clearly confused when he dragged her back into the bedroom and flung the door closed.

    “Out the window. Unless you’d rather take your chances with the fire.”

    “N-no,” she said, trembling against him and he realised this little firecracker was afraid.

    “Hey.” He took a moment to pause, tilt her chin up so she was looking at him. “I’ll get you out of here. Trust me.” It might be a ridiculous thing to ask of the sister of his number one suspect in a gruesome serial killer case, but Walt found himself craving her trust.

    “I do,” she said, sincerity in her voice and her expression.

    More pleased than he should be at her declaration, he dipped his head, kissed her, then dragged her over to the window.

    “You want me to jump?” Becca asked, not sounding pleased at the prospect.

    “I’ll lower you down as far as I can,” he said, already shoving the window open and picking her up. Carefully he let go of her legs, letting them dangle while he kept his other arm wrapped around her shoulders. “Take my hand,” he said, holding out his free hand. Becca took it and he quickly moved his other arm to grab her other hand. “It’s time.”

    Wide eyes stared up at him and he could feel her shaking. “Its so far.”

    He couldn’t argue with her on that. Not like they had a choice though. “On three.”

    Becca nodded, steeled herself. “One.”

    “Two.”

    “Three,” they both said together, and he released his hold on her.

    He winced as he watched her drop and then hit the ground hard. But then his heart jumped into his throat. A man dressed in black jumped out of a car parked outside Becca’s brother’s house. He ran straight for Becca, grabbed her as she was struggling to get to her feet, and carried her towards the car.

    “Walt!” Becca screamed, attempting to fight her attacker.

    He didn’t think, he just climbed out the window and jumped, barely noticing the bone jarring landing.

    But he was too slow.

    The man had already thrown Becca in the trunk of his car and his tires were squealing as he drove off down the street.

    She was gone.