Love Lies Dying (34 page)

Twenty-nine

Falling.

Falling backwards.

There’s nothing I can do.

I’m falling.

I reach out.

Try to grab hold.

Can’t.

There’s nothing to hold.

Why?

Why did you do this to me?

How could you?

You turned to me.

I saw your face.

It was you.

Laughter.

It’s all around me again.

I can hear it.

I can hear you.

You’re laughing at me.

Laughing with them.

Laughing at ME!

Why?

How can you?

I tried to help.

I tried to fix things.

Now I’m falling.

And you look on.

Falling further.

You won’t help.

You can’t help.

You can’t help?

Or you won’t?

How can you not help me?

I tried.

Tried so hard to help you.

Falling.

Further.

And further down.

I reach out to you once more.

Help me.

Please?

PLEASE!

Help me before they get to me!

Help me before I fall forever.

Before I am lost.

Lost!

Lost without you.

Yes, reach out.

Yes, yes!

Reach out to me.

Help me!

I’m reaching too.

See?

Yes, we can reach!

I can touch you.

I feel you now.

Yes!

Grab hold.

Please.

Yes!

Our fingers entwine.

My falling is slowing.

Hold on.

Please hold on to me.

Yes.

Almost there.

Yes.

Hold me.

Hold me and love me.

Yes.

Love me like I love you.

Love me until I must return.

Thirty

John woke with his face pressed into the cold hard floor.

He opened his eyes, but the darkness around him was complete. He could see nothing.

For a few seconds he had no idea where he was, or why he was in so much pain.

And then it started to come back to him.

Zoe.

The church.

The phone!

He remembered now. He remembered his last frantic leap. He remembered slipping and becoming unbalanced, flipping through the air, the pain and then the fall to the floor.

He remembered it all.

Damn it,
he thought.
Your best chance, and you blew it! How could you be so stupid as to ruin the best chance you had of escape?

The pain in his right shoulder was intense and moving it only made the agony worse. He tried to move his whole body, but it was difficult as he was numb and cold and stiff.

He had landed in a heap on the floor, his right shoulder and face pressed hard against the cold wooden floorboards. Behind him, and off to the side at a strange angle, his arms and legs hung in the air. The metal chair pressed down on him from above.

He sniffed. The smell of urine filled his nostrils.

The shock from the fall must have jarred his bladder. He didn’t have much feeling in his body, but he was sure he could feel the soaking sticky wetness in his pants and the bottom half of his shirt.

At any other time, he would’ve been disgusted with himself.

He moved his hands and rattled the handcuffs in the vain hope that maybe they had broken free in the fall. But they were still attached to the back of the chair, still pinned behind him, both hands cold and numb.

He shook his feet and found they were still bound too, although he could really only feel his left foot. He hoped his right foot was only numb from the lack of circulation and nothing more serious. A broken ankle or leg was the last thing he needed right now.

His stomach growled loudly in the silence and he realised he hadn’t eaten anything since last night.

Last night?

He wasn’t even sure what day it was now.

Is it still Sunday night? Or Monday morning? Or later?

He looked around but could see nothing. The night was so dark that he could make out no shapes or shadows in the church.

For all he knew, he was facing a wall or the kitchenette bench. He had no way of telling.

How long have I been out?

He didn’t know.

What time is it? I could have been out for hours!

There was nothing he could do about it anyway.

Except wait,
he thought to himself.
Wait. Wait wait waitwaitfuckinwait. That’s all I do now. Wait and watch as life slowly goes by me.

He tried to lift his head upwards, but the weight pressing down on his neck and shoulders wouldn’t allow it. He only succeeded in creating more pain for his shoulder.

I can’t stay like this. Not all night.

Taking a quick breath, he tried to rock his body back and forth, hoping that somehow he might be able to tip himself on his side, or over completely.

Sharp claws of pain shot through his whole body.

He gritted his teeth and closed his eyes hard, willing the pain away. But it was no use. The chair knocked against the floorboards, its thudding loud in the silence of the night. The legs of the chair stopped John from turning over. The chair was bracing him in his current position.

The best he could do was turn his head to the side slightly, resting his ear to the floor and taking some of the pressure off his cheek.

He lay in that position for a long time.

He tried to think of a way out of this mess, but his brain just didn’t seem to be functioning. His thoughts were scrambled, he couldn’t think straight.

It was so dark he didn’t even know whether his eyes were open or not.

Perhaps I’m blind,
he thought to himself.
Perhaps Fox came to the church while I was unconscious and gouged out my eyes.

John chuckled to himself.

That’s crazy talk,
he thought.
Hey, the whole fucking situation is crazy!

He had been so close to reaching the phone.
So close.

But he’d let his anger get the better of him and he’d dropped his concentration, tried for the big leap, only to ruin the best chance he had of getting out of here.

And now he was cold and hungry. His chest and shoulders had begun to shiver in the damp night. The numbness of the rest of his body made him feel as if he only existed from the chest up. If it weren’t for the hunger in his stomach, he would’ve sworn that only his arms, chest and head existed. Although he was sure he could feel the clinging wetness of where he had pissed on himself.

Maybe Fox has chopped me up, cut me in two or something.

John smiled at the lunacy of the thought.

Yeah, and now I’m in some cage at a travelling freak show or something.

“Roll up! Roll up! Come see the fascinating and horrific! Come see the half man, half metal chair!”

I’d pull quite a crowd.

His smile vanished as he thought about Fox.

There’s no doubt now, is there?
he asked himself.
Fox has won. It’s obvious.

Zoe hadn’t returned to the church, and neither had Helen. Fox’s plan had worked and now he either had both Helen and Zoe as his prisoners, or the two women were dead. Killed out at the farmhouse while he sat here in his chair, unable to help in any way.

Fox has won.
John told himself.
Did I really think I could beat the bastard at his own game?

Had Fox decided to leave John here to die? Or had he killed Zoe before she even had a chance to tell him that John was at the church?

Maybe it was just like in my dream. Maybe she was shot before she even had a chance to tell him I was here at the church. That I was her security, and that by being here I would ensure she would be released.

It didn’t work.

And Fox didn’t care.

John tried not to think about it. He didn’t want to think that events had played themselves out like that.

But if things were different, why hasn’t Zoe or Helen come for me?

John listened to the silence as if waiting for an answer.

None came.

Why indeed?
he wondered.

Maybe this was still part of the game.

Whose?

Fox’s or Zoe’s?

He listened again for an answer.

Silence.

All he received was another bout of rumbling from his stomach.

Hang on in there,
he told himself.
Only a few hours to go.

A few hours to what?

I don’t know.

Zoe and Helen aren’t coming back.

They might be.

They’d be here by now.

I know.

And you can’t escape.

I might.

How?

I don’t know, yet.

Yet?

I’m working on it.

But he didn’t know what to do. Or what he could do.

And that’s when he heard the noises.

They were fleeting and could barely be heard, but if he concentrated, he could make out the scratching sounds.

Animals?

A dog, no…smaller. A cat?

Or worse…

He couldn’t even tell whether the noises were coming from inside or outside the church. But they sounded close.

Rats?

John didn’t want to know. But there was more than one source of the noise. They sounded like they were all around him, scratching and scampering close by.

In the cold darkness of the night, he found his mind spinning, trying to grab hold of any thoughts that would help him in any way.

But there were none.

Something brushed up against his side. He was sure he felt it. He jerked away from it, but the chair held him tight.

He lay on the floor with a mind devoid of ideas of how to escape.

How can I? In the position I’m in, I can’t do anything!

He lay there waiting. Waiting for something to happen.

“That’s my pal,” Richard spoke to him again. His voice was loud in the night. “Always waiting for something to happen, always watching as others take the lead. And then you follow.”

Go away.

“Hey, now that’s no way to speak to your best buddy,” Richard continued.

I don’t want to talk right now.

“Why? Are you busy? You don’t seem to be doing much.”

Shut up.

“Looks like you’re waiting.”

I said, shut up!

“Waiting for others to play your hand for you. Just like the old days.”

That’s not true.

“Sure it is!” Richard replied. “You used to do it then and you’re doing it now. At least you’re consistent, I guess.”

I’m the one who needs to be in control. I’m the one who has to control a situation.

“Yeah, yeah. I know you
say
that. But events prove otherwise, don’t they, pal? You’re hardly in control now!”

I don’t want to talk to you right now.

“No, I guess you don’t. But you’re gonna anyway.”

I won’t.

“Yes, you will.”

I won’t listen.

Richard chuckled, “Pal, I don’t think you’re in any position to stop me!”

John closed his eyes hard, trying to wish Richard from his mind.

“I’m still here!” Richard replied after a few seconds.

It didn’t work.

Don’t mock me!

“Well, don’t try to ignore me. It won’t work.”

Okay, okay.

There was silence between them for a while.

“You’ve let yourself be led around by your cock again, my friend.” Richard continued. “I thought you would’ve learnt your lesson with Laura, but that seems not to be the case. Even all these years later, you’re still doing it.”

I don’t know what you’re talking about.

“Come on, John. How blind do you have to be? Laura screwed you. Remember?
Screwed you!
That’s with a capital ‘SCREW’, okay? She played you, she got what she wanted, she lied to you, and you stand there with your cock hanging out of your pants and believe everything she said. Then she leaves and you watch her go. And guess what? She never comes back!”

It wasn’t like that.

“Yes, it was.”

I was in control of the situation. I knew what was happening.

Richard laughed long and hard. “Really?” he said as his laughter subsided. “Like you are now?”

Shut up.

“It’s the same thing, pal. Don’t you get it yet? You were never in control of that situation with Laura and you were never in control of this whole mess with Zoe. No matter what you think. And now, look where you’ve wound up?”

I’m in control.

“Fuck, pal, open your eyes and look around you. You’re nose-down and ass-up, tied to a chair in some shit-hole of a church somewhere. No one knows you’re here and no one knows what’s going on. And no one’s coming to get you out of this mess either! You’ve even pissed all over yourself! In control? You? Give me a break!”

John pushed his face hard into the floorboards, hoping the pain slicing through his mind would slice through Richard as well and silence him once and for all.

“Ain’t that easy, pal,” Richard replied. “I’m not going anywhere.”

John pushed harder. Stars began to swim in his mind.

“Zoe’s been in control of this situation since the beginning. She’s shown you a bit of tit and arse and then your little man between your legs stands to attention and tells your brain to take a hike!”

John’s headache returned as he pushed his head harder into the floor. But the pain was too intense and the effort was too strenuous. Eventually, he gave up and tried to relax.