BACKWOODS RIPPER: a gripping action suspense thriller (11 page)

BOOK: BACKWOODS RIPPER: a gripping action suspense thriller
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Chapter Thirteen

Paige burst through the empty kitchen. Ignoring the smell of boiled vegetables and mould, she hurried into the sitting room. Her bare feet slapped the bland, threadbare carpet.

Hal was up, and out of bed.

She didn’t know how he’d managed it, but she wasn’t surprised. After everything he’d been through, most people would be ready to give up; but Hal wasn’t most people.

She had only one thought, getting to him before Lizzy found him out of bed. In Lizzy’s twisted mind, he was out of action and Paige wanted her to keep thinking that way. She paused in the hallway and listened. Silence, except for the occasional rattle of lose panes in the antique windows. Satisfied that Lizzy must be somewhere in her living quarters, Paige scurried up the stairs.

The door to Hal’s room was closed, but not locked. Paige let out a relieved breath and pushed it open. Hal lay sprawled half-on, half-off the bed, his face the colour of wet newspaper and his chest heaving as though he’d just run a marathon.

“Paige, you’re hurt,” he managed through panting breaths.

After everything she’d seen today, the worry in his voice almost tipped her over the edge. It took tremendous effort not to cry.

“I’m okay,” she managed to keep the tremor from her voice. “We’ve got to get you back in bed before she sees you.”

She moved around trying to figure out the best way to get his trailing legs on the bed without hurting him.

He must have read her face. “There’s no way to do it that won’t hurt like hell. Just grab my broken leg and swing it up.”

Paige took his ankle and hesitated. He braced himself on the sides of the bed and nodded. She lifted his leg and moved it onto the bed as he swivelled his hips. She could see him grimacing and closing his eyes, but there was no time to hesitate. Neither of them said it, but they both knew if Lizzy thought he posed any risk, she’d do something to incapacitate him further. Paige placed his leg on the bed as gentle as possible under the circumstances.

“The left one isn’t as bad,” he said around ragged breaths.

Paige lifted his left leg just above the bandaged stump. It was the first time she’d touched his leg since Lizzy had mutilated him. Even through the pain, she knew he’d be watching her reaction. The image of the foot under the water with the ribbons of flesh jumped to mind. She forced all the grief and helplessness off her face and swung his leg onto the bed.

She looked up, meeting his eyes. They were red rimmed and watery. “I love you,” she said softly, before picking up the mess of tape, bandages, and equipment that littered the floor.

Satisfied the room was back as it had been before, Paige used the corner of the sheet to wipe Hal’s sweat drenched face. She lifted the glass for him to drink. While he gulped down the water, she ran her hand over his damp hair.

“I know why she’s keeping us here,” Paige said.

“The baby.”

Paige’s mouth dropped open. “How did you find out?”

Hal shrugged. “She’s been rambling on about unwed mothers and girls in a jam all morning. It didn’t take me long to work out she’s fixated on the baby.” He took Paige’s hand and pressed it to his lips. “I saw what happened outside. If there ever
was
any way of talking her out of going through her insane plan, it’s gone. Things have gone too far now.”

Paige nodded. Lizzy had killed a man and once his wife, or whoever, reported him missing, it wouldn’t be difficult to work out where he was. If Wade had family living with him someone might start looking as soon as tomorrow. If he lived alone it might take as long as a week. Either way, their stay at Mable House was nearing an end.

“I found our car,” Paige said. “The keys are gone, but I’m going to look for them today.”

Paige told him how Soona led her to the spot where Lizzy had hidden it. She’d decided she wouldn’t tell him about the marron cages. If, when all this was over, it came out, there would be nothing she could do; but she wouldn’t be the one to tell him. Not ever. He’d lost enough.

“Don’t spend too long looking. If you can’t find them quickly, just go and this time don’t come back.” He stopped speaking and put his hand to her face. “What she’s done to you, I couldn’t …” His voice broke and he looked down.

“It’s okay,” she said quickly. “I can barely feel it.”

* * *

Lizzy’s voice rang out from the front of the house. Paige bolted across the room. Below, Lizzy and Soona stood over Wade’s body. Lizzy pointed at Wade’s shoulders and gestured for Soona to pick him up. Lizzy’s thick hands curled into claws as she motioned up and down. It occurred to Paige that Lizzy looked like a witch she’d once seen in a fairy-tale book she read to her year two class – large boned, scraggly hair, and menacing stance. Paige grimaced and turned away.

“They’re outside moving the body. If they’re planning on burying him, that’ll give me at least an hour.” Her indifference to the disposal of Wade’s body startled her but it was something she’d have to deal with later.

“I’m going to search their rooms.”

She headed for the door. On her way past, she stopped and kissed Hal. It was a soft lingering kiss on the mouth. She hoped it wouldn’t be their last.

“Wait,” Hal called. Paige turned at the doorway, her white dress looked like a butcher’s apron. “When you find the keys, go. She won’t wait for the baby to come. She’ll take what she wants.”

“I know,” Paige whispered and closed the door behind her.

He was asking her to choose the baby and leave him to Lizzy’s mercies. A choice which would condemn him to further torture and most probably death.
Once I’m gone why wouldn’t she kill him?
Could she take that chance? With a two-hour drive to the roadhouse to summon help, how long would it before Lizzy set to work on her husband again?

Paige padded down the stairs. She couldn’t think that far ahead. She had to concentrate her energy on forcing her fatigued mind and body to keep moving and focus on the next step, finding the keys.

She entered the sitting room, the long dusty curtains open half a metre or so allowed soft afternoon light to filter in, giving the already dated room a pearly glow. Tall shapes covered in dusty grey sheets occupied the centre of the room, leaving the corners empty, but for shadows and cobwebs.

Lizzy and Soona slept behind the sitting room in what Paige guessed must have originally been the caretaker’s or housekeeper’s quarters – if old hospitals had such things. The area was directly behind the kitchen. She’d never been through the door at the far end of the disused room, and had no idea what to expect.

The solid wood door stood shrouded in shadows, peeling cream paint revealed a dark brown underneath. The knob, a circular brass grip, was battered with tiny dents. Lizzy and Soona passed in and out numerous times each day, so Paige had no reason to worry about it being locked. She put her hand out and grasped the knob, it felt sticky – probably the strawberry jam Soona lathered on her bread. The knob turned easily and the old door opened without so much as a creak.

Paige entered the dim room and closed the door behind her. The smell of boiled food and mould lingered, but was fainter than in the kitchen. There was something else though, an odour that lurked beneath the other smells, something unpleasant and musky. It reminded her of Lizzy. Paige wrinkled her nose and looked around.

She’d pictured a small room with two narrow beds and a bathroom, but the area behind the kitchen evolved into more of a suite. The room she stood in served as a small lounge area with two bulky brown armchairs, a worn nylon rug, and a small television on a squat coffee table. A sewing basket sat on the rug next to one of the chairs. The furnishings were more modern than the rest of the house, but still twenty years out of date.

Paige avoided the window at the far end of the room which, judging by its position, looked out onto the backyard. She skirted past the coffee table where the television sat surrounded by a cluster of framed photos. The bathroom was on the right, near where she’d entered, and two doors stood on the left, one open. A single bed and bedside table were visible. Paige inched forward, the sound of Lizzy’s voice echoing in the distance.

A step further into the windowless room revealed dishwater grey walls, a small desk that looked like it belonged in a Victorian classroom, and six battered tins lined up along the far edge of the desk. In each tin rested a handful of pencils; they’d been divided by colour. Scraps of card that looked as if they’d been torn from food packages or cereal boxes were set out in rows. Crude drawings of cows covered every surface. Some were pinned to the wall above the desk. Paige picked up a piece of card that had been torn from a tea box. On the blank side was a drawing of a brown cow with a carrot in its mouth.

“You’re as trapped here as we are,” she said and looked up, startled by how loud her voice sounded.

She dropped the drawing and backed out of the room. She wouldn’t find what she needed in Soona’s room. Before she entered the other door, she stole forward and risked a look out the window. Wade’s bike was parked near the shed on the far left. She couldn’t hear Lizzy but the dull thud of a spade striking dirt came from somewhere out of view. Paige pinched her bottom lip between her thumb and forefinger. She had no way of knowing if Lizzy was still out there or if she’d left Soona to finish digging.

Paige crept over to the door leading to the sitting room. She cocked her head and listed for the heavy thud of Lizzy’s rubber-soled shoes. A faint scuffling sound came from somewhere inside the house. Paige drew in a breath and held it. She leaned her head closer to the door and the scuffling turned into a rattle and then a thwack
as the screen door leading to the back veranda slammed. Paige slapped her hand over her mouth to muffle a shriek. She looked around the room, eyes wide with panic.

Heavy footfalls thundered across the kitchen. Her first thought was to hide in the bathroom, but that might be where Lizzy was headed. Running out of options, Paige bolted for Soona’s room. She stayed on her toes trying to minimise the impact of her feet on the boards. When she reached the doorway, she pivoted to her right with her hand on the knob. Her left foot slid out from under her and for a split second, she fell forward only stopping herself by grabbing the door with her left hand.

She pulled the wooden slab towards her and slipped behind it, standing sideways between the door and the wall. Her heart thrashed like a wild animal in her chest. She plastered her hands over her mouth to cover the raspy sound of her breathing and waited.

Chapter Fourteen

Hal used his arms to pull himself into a slumped sitting position. The strength in his forearms and shoulders felt diminished, he had a grim suspicion that his body was weakening and would continue to do so if he didn’t get out of the bed.
Easier said than done.
Yes, but his mind told him he couldn’t afford to let himself flounder. His body had been through tremendous trauma and he’d lost a good deal of blood. No doubt it had sapped his strength, but lying in bed sweating and thinking about the pain only made him more debilitated.

He pushed his fists into the bed and strained until his arms trembled. Slowly, he managed to move himself up until he sat with his back pushed against the metal frame. It wasn’t huge progress, but he felt a slim flicker of pleasure. A door slammed below and anxiety replaced the momentary feeling of victory.

He had no way of knowing who’d opened or closed the door. It could’ve been Paige going outside, but he doubted it. Her plan had been to search Lizzy’s room for the keys. He
had
told her to go straight away if she found them. Maybe that’s what happened. He wanted to believe his wife and baby were anywhere but here. But he knew Paige too well. She was loyal and fiercely protective, something he loved about her.

He listened to the sounds the old house made. Sounds that after only four days, he’d become accustomed to: window panes rattled, water trickled through old pipes and beams, and boards settled. Hal tried to sift through all the mundane sounds to pinpoint movement. He thought he heard another door open, but couldn’t be sure.

He wanted nothing more than to be downstairs helping Paige, but wheeling himself across the room and sitting up were his big achievements for the day. As if on cue, the throbbing in his stump amped up a notch and a cold sweat broke out on his neck. Not only was he no help to his heavily pregnant wife, but worse, he’d become a liability. If it weren’t for him, he had no doubt Paige would’ve left by now. He knew it and so did Lizzy. That’s why she kept him alive.

If he wasn’t such a coward, when he made it to the window he would’ve kept on going. Taken a swan dive and landed next to the poor bastard Lizzy shot in the chest. Then there’d be nothing to keep Paige from running. Lizzy would have no hold over her. Except it would destroy Paige and then she’d be here all alone. Hal tipped his head back and stared at the ceiling with its swirling patterns of damp.

Tears welled in his eyes; he rubbed them away with his fists. His wife was downstairs trying to outwit a murderer and he was sitting in bed crying. Kind of funny if you had a really sick sense of humour.

He rolled his head to the side, not knowing felt nearly as torturous as the sparks of pain in his broken leg. Hal looked at the trolley and wished he could ride it down the stairs. It wasn’t such a crazy idea. He
could
try to use it to get to the lift and then down to the bottom floor.
Then what? Run Lizzy over with a nurse’s trolley?

He scratched his head and tried to think of something else. He was off the pain medication, that’s why it felt like his legs were filled with broken glass, shifting and moving under the skin. But it should also mean that he could think more clearly. So far he had nothing.

Then it came to him. Something so simple and so obvious, he couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought of it sooner. Well, he had sort of when the crazy bitch leaned over him. He’d thought about hitting her with the water jug. Then it had been a fleeting notion, something he hadn’t really taken seriously. But now, killing Lizzy seemed like a very good idea.

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