BACKWOODS RIPPER: a gripping action suspense thriller (14 page)

Chapter Seventeen

Paige left Hal’s room and placed the empty plate on the floor. She walked past the stairs trying to make as little sound as possible, but the third floor landing was a mine field of squeaky boards. The first room she tried was empty except for a stack of stained mattresses. The next, a small windowless room that smelt like disinfectant. Paige snapped on the light next to the door and a single bulb buzzed to life. The room looked like some sort of operating theatre with a set of deep metal sinks and trays of instruments on trolleys. The floor was covered in dark green vinyl with patches of brown in a few areas. Paige grimaced, turned off the lights, and shut the door.

The third door along the landing opened into another dormitory-style room. Two rectangular windows along the far wall were covered with rotting boards; thin streaks of grey light dropped through the gaps between the wood. The room looked similar to the one Paige slept in except here, the beds lay in pieces on the bare wooden floor, at the far end chairs and various hospital equipment were stacked in a haphazard pile. Paige tip-toed out of the room to the banister and looked down. The vacant lift, like a giant mechanical cave, took up much of the landing. By standing to the left, she could see all the way to the tiled entrance hall.

The ground floor was devoid of movement. From above, the swirling pattern made by the black and white tiles on the foyer floor looked like a large black snake. Satisfied that Lizzy wasn’t around, Paige slipped back into the dormitory room and selected the piece of equipment she’d need for later that night. She left her find near the door and backed out of the room.

There wasn’t much more she could do now but wait until nightfall. She picked up the plate she’d left near Hal’s door and walked down the stairs.

In the kitchen, the lights filled the room with a stark yellow glow. Lizzy and Soona were seated at the table, their heads bent over deep bowls. When Paige entered, Lizzy looked up, a line of pearly soup dripped from the corner of her mouth. Paige thought of the bait the marron feasted on and resisted the urge to gag.

“Sit down will you?” Lizzy dabbed at her mouth with a cotton napkin.

“I’ll just wash this,” Paige gestured to the plate in her hands and headed for the sink.

“Leave it.” There was no mistaking the order in Lizzy’s voice so Paige set the plate down in the sink and took her place at the table. The thick, sweet smell of cooked crayfish hung in the air. She swallowed her disgust and sat next to Soona, who held a spoon in one hand and a chunk of bread in the other. She continued to slurp soup as Lizzy spoke.

“That dress is much more suitable.”

Paige pulled on the stiff collar and nodded. She glanced at the clock on the shelf over the stove, only six-fifteen. It would be at least two hours before Lizzy and Soona went to bed.

“How are you feeling?”

The question took Paige by surprise. Her confusion must have been obvious because Lizzy repeated the question.

“How are you feeling?”

“I … I’m alright,” Paige managed, unsure what to say.
I’m sick to my stomach with fear and revulsion. I’ve been terrorized and hit and my husband’s been mutilated, so just fine.

“The baby moving much?” Lizzy asked over a spoonful of chunky grey liquid.

So now we get to it
, Paige thought.
The reason we’re here. The real reason.
“Yes.” She tried to give little away. Even talking to the woman about the baby made Paige jumpy.

“When I had Soona, I could tell something was wrong. I’d been around enough pregnant girls to know the baby’s supposed to move.” She shrugged. “Soona only gave the odd ripple, I was very young, but I knew it wasn’t right.” She stopped eating and looked over at Soona. "My father told me everything was fine, but I knew.” Her mouth quivered, it was a tiny movement and then she let out a long, tired breath. “A mother knows; don’t you think?”

“I think I’d know if something was wrong,” Paige said, folding her arms around her bump. “But this is my first baby so …” her voice trailed off.

Lizzy nodded and took a spoonful of soup. She lifted it to her mouth then paused. “Do you know the sex?”

They’d made the decision not to find out the baby’s gender. Paige remembered Hal said something about enjoying the surprise. He’d been so excited about being a father that she’d thought he’d insist on knowing if he was going to have a son or a daughter, but he was adamant that it was better to wait. She pictured Hal’s green eyes twinkling over the top of his sunglasses as he pressed his hand to her belly, and her eyes blurred with tears.

“No, we don’t know.” She looked down at her arms lying protectively over her belly.

Lizzy nodded and shovelled the spoon into her mouth. “Lots of babies have been born here. I had Soona here. Right upstairs.” She used her spoon to point up at the ceiling and drops of soup ran down her wrist. “After she was born, my father sent me away to study nursing in Albany.”

“That must have been hard for you,” Paige said, trying to sound sympathetic.

Lizzy picked up a slice of bread and tore off a chunk. She dipped it in her soup and pushed it into her mouth without answering. Her teeth and lips worked like a mulching machine. For a few minutes the only sounds were the ticking of the clock and the clatter of Lizzy and Soona’s spoons.

“He said it would be better for me not to get too attached. He was going to have Soona adopted, but once it became obvious she was retarded, no one wanted her.” Lizzy gave a shrug and popped another chunk of bread in her mouth.

“What about your mother? What did she say?” Paige asked, genuinely interested.
Something
had happened in this isolated house that ultimately led to her and Hal’s current predicament. Whatever secrets were hidden in Lizzy’s past brought her to a place where the death of her father and the closing of Mable House pushed her over the edge. Those two events triggered whatever insane scenario Lizzy was intent on playing out. Suddenly it seemed important to know more.

Lizzy gave a snort, a sound somewhere between a laugh and a grunt. It reminded Paige of a pig. “She was dead by then. Not that she’d have been any help anyway.” Lizzy pointed her spoon at Paige. She was like you; one of those pretty fragile types. Life out here got too much for her.” Their eyes locked and Lizzy seemed to be studying her. “Although, I think there might be a bit more steel behind those baby blues than you let on.” Lizzy licked her mouth, her tongue startlingly red against her pale lips.

All sorts of questions flooded Paige’s mind. She wanted to ask about Soona’s father, but she had a sick feeling in her stomach that Lizzy’s relationship with her own father was pivotal to the situation.

Ignoring Lizzy’s dig at her, Paige persisted. “Did your father send you away because you got pregnant?”

The silence stretched. Lizzy still held the spoon, she dipped it in the dregs of her soup and swirled it around. Paige wondered if she’d gone too far. Maybe asking about her relationship with her father would set off another angry attack. She steeled herself and moved her right hand from her belly and slipped it in her pocket. She felt the handle of the knife.

“He was under a lot of pressure,” Lizzy said after a long silence. “He loved me. I helped him keep this place going.” Her grey eyes looked watery as if she were fighting tears. “He needed me. It’s not easy to be responsible for everyone … sometimes the stress got to be too much.”

Paige wondered if Lizzy was still talking about herself or her father. She felt a tiny pang of pity for the woman, then just as quickly she pushed the feeling away.

Lizzy dropped her spoon into the bowl with a sharp clang. “What happened today with Wade, I didn’t mean to do that,” she said changing direction. “Wade was a good man, not like some of the ratbags in town.”

“Did he have a family?” Paige asked hoping her question wouldn’t provoke the woman. It was the longest conversation they’d had since Paige first flagged down Lizzy’s ute. Part of her wanted to know more about the woman capable of inflicting so much pain, but another part wanted to shrink from Lizzy as if the madness that raged in the woman’s mind could be contagious.

“There’s time,” Lizzy said. “His wife died four years ago and his son lives in Darwin.” Her eyes were calculating and a smile played around the corner of her mouth. The tears glossing her eyes only seconds ago were gone so fast Paige wasn’t sure if they’d ever been there.

“Time for a cuppa,” Lizzy said jovially, and stood up.

Chapter Eighteen

Paige paced the room, her bare feet slapping on the scuffed boards. It was still too early to make a move. She’d left Lizzy and Soona in the kitchen almost an hour ago, but when she crept out to listen, the sound of the television floated from their living quarters. Paige stopped pacing and sat on the narrow bed.

The dormitory was lit by a single naked bulb hanging from a twist of wires. The light cast shadows in every corner giving the room an eerie feel. She patted her pocket and felt the outline of the knife. If everything went to plan, she wouldn’t have to use it. She clenched one hand over the other and drew them up to her mouth. Her body fought heavy fatigue, and the muscles in her back felt bunched and tight. She’d only managed a few hours of sleep last night. In the last three nights, she’d slept very little, and during the times she had found deep sleep, she’d been plagued by nightmares.

She tucked her legs up onto the bed and leaned sideways until her head rested on her right arm. Sleep would be an escape, if only a short one. She longed for a few moments of black nothingness where she could hide from the ugly reality that shadowed each waking hour. Paige locked her eyes on the door. The wood was painted a shade of green that was probable once minty and cheerful, but now faded to the colour of boiled cabbage.

She was probably safe for tonight, but if she didn’t get away soon, Lizzy would come for her. Killing Wade had narrowed Lizzy’s window of opportunity. The fact that Wade had no family to report him missing would give her a little wiggle room, but sooner or later the police would come calling. That meant within the coming week, Lizzy would take what she wanted and dispose of Paige and Hal.

Paige draped her arm over her belly and felt the gentle movements of her baby. She couldn’t let that happen. The small innocent life inside her shifted, oblivious to the danger. Paige closed her eyes and hummed a lullaby she remembered from her own childhood. The baby settled and Paige let out a sigh. Her eyes fluttered open and checked the door one more time before she sank into sleep.

* * *

She was in her father’s bedroom, the sheets were rumpled and washed in early morning light. She called out, but her dad didn’t answer. Her heart pounded in her throat and her ears buzzed. She reached out and touched the chest of drawers near the wall and felt something land on her hand. She tried to flick it away thinking it was a fly – it’s always a fly. But the thing on her hand hung on, too heavy to be an insect.

In her dream, Paige looked down at her hand and gasped. A thick, dark green snake curled around her wrist, its pink fleshy mouth gaping open to reveal a long blue tongue. She shrieked and shook her arm sending the snake flying across the room.

She headed for the bathroom calling out to her father as she stumbled through the door. Her father lay sprawled on the black tiles. His face turned to the floor and his arms stretched out in front of him as though he were getting ready to dive through the floor.

“Dad? Dad, are you alright?” Paige cried out, knowing he wasn’t. He would never be alright again.

The buzzing in her ears grew louder, almost deafening. She sank to her knees when she noticed her father’s legs, they were both nothing more than bloody stumps sticking out of his blue-striped boxer shorts. Ribbons of red and white flesh left a trail of blood smeared on the black tiles. It looked like he’d crawled across the floor.

Paige moaned and reached out to touch his shoulder, but flinched back when his head snapped up. She stumbled back, her mouth open but refusing to make sounds. It was her father’s body, but Hal’s tortured face stared up at her. When he opened his mouth a swarm of flies buzzed out. Paige’s chest pumped up and down until finally, she pushed out a scream.

She scrambled on the floor next to the bathroom door trying to get to her feet, but her arms were caught by squirming snakes that held her down and slithered over her skin. She jerked back trying to free herself and her eyes sprang open. For a moment, the glare of the light baffled her, she felt something touch her cheek and shrieked.

* * *

Paige swatted at her face with her right hand before realising that she was hitting herself. She’d fallen asleep on her left arm and her numb fingers brushed against her cheek. Still breathing hard from the nightmare, Paige sat up and rubbed her left hand until painful pins and needles flooded her lifeless limb.

Her eyes darted to every shadowed corner, the light seemed shockingly bright over the bed, but in the corners anything could lurk. She had no idea how long she’d been asleep. The back of her dress felt damp with sweat. She swung her legs over the edge of the bed and waited for the sense of confusion to dissipate.

Over the last thirteen years, she’d had countless dreams about the morning she’d found her father dead on his bathroom floor, but this one was by far the worst. The terrifying images wouldn’t leave her mind and her hands shook with fear. She closed her eyes and saw Hal pulling his severed legs across her father’s bathroom. She forced the image away and sat on the edge of the bed breathing in and out slowly. There was too much at stake tonight to let a nightmare sap her strength.

After a few minutes, she felt calmer and her hands were steady. She pushed the stiff grey fabric of her dress aside and pulled the phone out of her bra. When Paige looked at the blank screen, despair flooded her until she remembered it wasn’t flat, just turned off.

“Come on,” she said. “Get your shit together.”

I’m trying
, she thought and turned the phone on. Eleven-twenty and less than a quarter charge left in the battery.
It’ll have to do
. Paige left the phone on and shoved it back in her bra. She opened the dormitory door and let the light spill across the foyer. She crept across the entry, the tiles icy under her feet. When she reached the darkened sitting room, she paused and listened. Outside an owl hooted softly and the wind rustled trees and rattled the windows.

This moment had been building in her thoughts all afternoon. Part of her mind thumped with fear, dreading what was to come; yet another part of her no longer wanted to pass the buck and wait for someone else to save her skin. That piece of her was eager to get going.

A small whisper of doubt ran through her.
What if Lizzy knows what I’m up to and took the gun and the keys?
Paige moved around the bulky furniture and found what she was looking for. She flipped the dust sheet off the hospital chair and gave a small grateful sigh when the gun, shells, and keys were still on the oversized padded sofa.

She grabbed the car keys and put them in her pocket with the knife. She carried the shotgun and the box of shells and headed upstairs. The light from her room spilled out enough glow for her to see up to the second floor, but after that the darkness swamped her. She juggled the gun and the shells trying to get to her phone. Finally, she put the gun on the floor and pulled out her phone.

“Thank God for smartphones,” Paige whispered and turned on its light.

She snatched a look over the banister, reassuring herself Lizzy wasn’t lurking below, and picked up the gun. The double barrelled pump-action shotgun had a thick stock made out of some sort of heavy wood. Awkward to carry, its bulk and weight were reassuring. She’d heard it go off and seen the carnage it could wreak, a grim but comforting thought.

The three storey climb was difficult at nearly thirty weeks pregnant, but when you throw a shotgun into the mix, it becomes a slog. By the time she reached the third floor, her arm muscles shrieked with protest and her thighs burned with lactic acid. She stopped at the top of the last step and leaned against the banister. She didn’t want Hal to see her struggling, he was already reluctant about the plan. If it looked like too much effort, he’d try and talk her out of going on.

Paige put the gun and the phone on the floor and stretched her arms over her head. She pistoned them in and out a few times then rolled her shoulders. Her legs still felt stiff; if she made it to tomorrow she supposed she’d suffer for it.
If I make it to tomorrow, I’ll be high kicking regardless of what shape my legs are in
. She picked up the shotgun and phone and took the last few steps to Hal’s door.

The light from the phone cast a blue veil over the bed. Hal was sitting up, eyes wide and skin an eerie grey colour. The image of Hal on her father’s bathroom floor flashed across her mind.

“I was starting to think something went wrong,” he said.

Paige put the shotgun on the bed and grasped his face in her hands. His cheeks felt warm and the four-day growth of whiskers rasped against her palms. “I’m sorry you were worried,” she whispered, trying to keep her voice steady. “Everything’s fine.”

She held his face for a second longer and looked into his green eyes, just to reassure herself he was real and the dream was gone. Hal was alive and safe, for the time being.

He held her wrist and slid her hand to his mouth. “I know you’re set on doing this, so I won’t try to talk you out of it.” He kissed her palm and then pulled her against him so his cheek pressed against her belly. “All I care about is the two of you getting away from here.”

“I know,” Paige ran her fingers through his hair. She missed his touch. She wished this nightmare was over and she could climb into bed and curl herself around him.

“If there’s any …” he hesitated. “Any problems, just go.” Paige started to protest, but he cut her off. “I can take care of myself. The last time – when she, you know – I was drugged to the eyeballs and not expecting it. She won’t get another chance like that.”

Paige pulled back. “I have to get going. The light on my phone won’t last long.” She dropped the box of shells on the bed. “Can you load this while I get everything ready?”

Paige turned and slipped out of the room. When she returned Hal held the shotgun, sliding the shells into the breach. He cocked it up and down. “There were only two shells in the box so if you have to use it, make them count.” He handed her the gun.

“No. Keep it with you. If she comes through the door, shoot her.” Paige pushed the gun back towards him.

Hal’s face tightened. “I’m not going to argue with you about this,” his words were harsh, she’d never heard him like this. “I’m not a defenceless cripple. Take the gun.”

She wanted to protest, but knew it was useless. Time was short and she had to go. Besides, if they were going to get through this night, they’d have to have faith in each other.

“Okay. I love you,” she whispered, and kissed him. “Give me about an hour before you move.” She picked up the shotgun and turned to leave.

“I love you.” Paige heard him answer as she closed the door and left him in the dark.