Love Lies Dying (49 page)

Forty-seven

“John Murdock’s phone.”

“Hi, listen, it’s me.”

“John? Where the hell are you?”

“Look, I can’t talk for long. Just listen, okay?”

“Oh, okay. But we were all wondering where you were, not showing up for work and all.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m in Hepburn Lakes.”

“Where?”

“Hepburn Lakes!”

“What are you doing all the way out there?”

“Look, I can’t talk for long. I’m being held captive by a woman out here.”

“Yeah, yeah, good one!”

“Listen, I’m
serious
! I know it sounds ridiculous, but it’s
true
! I’m out in the middle of nowhere at some small church about 10 minutes from Hepburn Lakes. Now, I’ve got to get out of here. So I’m heading down to the town, there’s a hotel there, some kind of bar. I saw it when we drove up here. I’ll try to head for there. It’ll take a while to get there because I have to go on foot, but I’ll get there. I want you to drive up here and get me.”

“Hey, John, a joke’s a joke, but this is going too far!”

“I’m
serious
, okay? When have I ever
lied
to you? I’ve got to get out of here now. And you
have
to come and pick me up. Okay?”

“Where’s your car?”

“Huh? Back at home.”

“Can’t Helen come and get you?”

“No, she can’t. I don’t really know where she is.”

“
What?
”

“Look, just trust me on this, please? I need your help!”

“Hey, you
are
serious!”

“Yes,
fucking deadly
serious!”

“I mean, I thought something was wrong when I found your card stuck in my wire door on Saturday night. I tried to contact you, but there was no answer. You should’ve waited, I was only down at the 7 Eleven. And then I couldn’t contact you yesterday and –”

“I’ve got to go. Hepburn Lakes. The hotel, okay? You just sit out the front in your car. I’ll come to you.”

“It’ll take me hours to get there.”

“I know. But you have to come.”

“I mean, it’s
miles
away.”

“I
know
that. I don’t care. I can wait. This is
important,
okay?”

“Are you okay?”

“I really don’t know.”

“Can’t you call the police or something?”

“It’s not that simple.”

“No, I didn’t think it would be. It never is, huh?”

“I’ll be at the hotel.”

“Alright, I’ll see you there as soon as I can.”

Forty-eight

John hung up the phone and took a deep breath. He realised he was sweating and that his hands were shaking.

Hang in there, you’re almost there.

Finally, something had gone his way and he would soon have some help.

All I have to do is make it to that hotel.

He realised it would take him a while to cover the distance back to Hepburn Lakes, but he knew if he ran part of the way and walked the rest, he should be able to make it in ample time. He had about three hours to complete the distance before any help arrived.

Easy.

I’ll just stick to the road.

You can’t! Zoe will drive by and see you.

Good point. I’ll stay near the road to follow it, but I’ll track through the scrub so no one sees me.

It’ll be tough with no shoes.

I have no choice. I’ll just have to put up with it.

He grabbed the empty glass off the counter and walked around to the sink. He turned on the tap and poured himself a glass of water. He drank it quickly.

Better take a quilt for clothing. Don’t want people seeing me naked and ringing the police.

Would that be such a bad thing?

Placing the empty glass in the sink, he turned around and looked at the cutlery on the counter.

I need a weapon.

His eyes danced across the knives. There was little choice. They were mostly butter knives, with a few scattered steak knives and peeling knives too. None of them looked particularly threatening, or sharp.

None of them are going to help me.

But then he thought about the steak knife Zoe had held. And what it had done to his arm and shoulder.

He glanced down at the stitches. They were holding nicely.

He grabbed a steak knife. It felt light in his hands. He ran his thumb across the blade. It was sharp at least.

It’s not a lot, but it may be just enough to help me out of a bad situation if I run into one.

You will if you don’t hurry!

Okay, I know. I’m trying not to panic.

Just GO!

I’m trying to think clearly!

He turned and walked back towards the beds. His eyes scanned everything around him, looking for anything else that was useful.

John looked at the table, the metal chair, the fireplace.

The poker.

He still couldn’t see it.

I wish I knew where it was.

He reached the beds and pulled the quilt from the one he had been tied to.

He wanted to wrap it around himself, like a cape, but it was too difficult with his hands still handcuffed together. He couldn’t hold it properly and it was too heavy to throw onto his shoulders. The cuffs made it too hard to manoeuvre.

Damn it, why did she have to take the key?

In the end, he gave up wrestling with the quilt and he let it drop to the floor.

He turned the steak knife around and placed the handle in his left palm with the blade pointing towards him. He then threaded the blade between the cuff and his wrist. He poked himself only once as he did so, but the knife didn’t draw any blood. The blade held tightly between wrist and cuff. At least that way it wouldn’t fall out of his grip and he could conceal it if needed. It could also be produced quickly at any time, if he was in trouble.

As long as it doesn’t accidentally snag on my stitches…

He looked down at the quilt, debating whether or not to take it with him.

This is wasting too much time!

I’ll have to go without it.

What if someone sees you?

So what? I’ve been through enough humiliation in the last couple of days, another person seeing me naked isn’t going to matter.

It might attract attention.

That might be exactly what I need.

Leaving the quilt on the floor, John eyed the church one final time.

Stop wasting time!

I’m not, I’m being careful.

Go while you can!

I will.

Or do you want to stay?

No, I don’t want to stay here.

Do you want her to catch you?

No! I have to get out.

Then move!

I am!

Move move MOVE!

John ran across the church, heading straight for the door, as panic began to rise in him.

His feet slapped loudly on the floor. The muscles in his legs and thighs ached, especially from where the cramps had taken hold earlier, but he could live with any amount of pain.

As long as I get out.

He climbed the step to the door.

As long as I can get away from her.

And he opened the door.

The warmth of the sun greeted him and the breeze ruffled his hair.

He took a deep breath and felt stronger than ever.

Life was returning to him.

Yes!

Freedom!

Freedom at last.

Freedom from everything.

The game was over.

He had won.

And then he heard it.

No!

He heard the engine.

NO!

He held his breath, concentrating on his hearing, willing the sound to go away.

But there was no doubt.

It was the sound of a car engine.

No, it can’t be!

And it was getting closer.

He took a step backwards, panic charging up his spine.

Run!

No, it’s too late!

RUN!

She’s too close!

He stood paralysed in the doorway, the sound of the engine becoming louder, getting closer by the second.

Move! RUN!

I don’t know what to do now!

RUN!

He slammed the door shut, spun around and dashed across the church.

What are you doing?

I can’t make it!

Yes, you can!

There’s not enough time!

You could run and disappear into the bushes before she knows you’re gone!

He reached the beds and grabbed the quilt from the floor.

He spread it back on the bed as fast as he could with his handcuffed hands, while he listened for the sound of the engine.

The noise was muffled now that he was in the church with the door closed, but there was no doubt about it. The car was getting closer.

It was Zoe.

It must be!

You can’t be doing this! You don’t have time!

He sat on the end of the bed, bent down, and grabbed the ropes. His hands were shaking and his breath was fast. He willed his hands to work, trying hard not to feel the pain as the handcuffs dragged against his skin.

Then he realised it was the steak knife biting into his wrist. He sat up and carefully withdrew the blade from underneath the cuff on his left hand. The blade sprang away from his skin.

His eyes flashed to the counter.

Gotta put it back.

No time!

He looked at the steak knife. Then back to the counter on the other side of the church.

You’ve got no time! You can’t put it back now!

He reached over to the side of the bed and slipped the knife under the mattress.

Then he bent back down and grabbed the ropes.

Quickly!

He wrapped the ropes around his ankles.

I hope this is right. I can’t remember how she did it.

You should’ve looked when you untied them!

I didn’t know I was going to have to tie them back up, did I!

He tied the rope tight around his left ankle, then changed his mind and loosened it slightly to give himself more slack.

Then he did the same with his right ankle.

I’ll need it.

You’ll need more than that!

The engine was loud now, the noise vibrating around the church.

She’s almost here!

He reached down to the leash, loosening the knot that tied it to the end of the bed, giving himself a couple of extra inches that he would need.

He lifted his cock and fed the leash through the ring.

Sweat dripped into his eyes. He swabbed it away with his arm.

Quickly, quickly!

The engine was outside now, he was sure of it, just outside the church. He could hear the tyres on the gravel driveway.

The knot around his cock ring was complete. He rolled to his side and pulled himself up the bed. The ropes around his legs and the leash attached to the cock ring pulled at him, but not as much as before, and the pain wasn’t so intense. They were still tight, but the extra few inches of slack gave him room to move.

He just hoped Zoe wouldn’t notice.

He laid himself flat on the bed and tilted his head backwards. He was sure he could still do it.

He grabbed the vertical slat that had fallen forward earlier, slipped the chain of the handcuffs behind it and pushed it back towards the horizontal handrail.

The tyres stopped moving on the driveway outside.

Come on!

The slat hit the handrail. John tried to bend it with his hands, to see if he could bow it and guide it back into its groove. But the wood was too strong, it wouldn’t give.

The engine died.

Silence returned.

Quickly! Just do it!

John stretched further, the ropes giving him the extra inches, just enough space to reach higher.

With his left hand holding the slat, he slipped his right up to the railing. The handcuff chain stretched upwards. He was running out of inches to manoeuvre. He held the slat firmly against the handrail. He pushed upwards with his right hand.

The railing bowed slightly.

But not enough.

He heard the Jeep door open.

He pushed again, with more strength.

The railing bowed again, lifted up higher. The slat inched closer to its groove.

Please! Please go in!

The car door slammed.

I’m running out of time!

His right arm strained with effort as he pushed it higher. The railing bowed more, creeping higher than before. John pushed with his left hand, trying to force the slat back into place.

It slipped under the railing.

Yes!

His hands began to sweat as he inched the slat towards the groove.

Come on, just a bit further.

The handcuff chain was stretched to its limit. John couldn’t move his hands any further apart. He needed precious millimetres he didn’t have. He moved his right arm slightly, trying to bring it closer to his left.

The railing slipped from his grip and dropped back down with a muffled slap.

The pressure was enough to force the slat from under the railing. Even with John’s left hand holding it, he couldn’t stop it as the slat popped back out from under the railing.

No! NOOOOOO!

He could hear her footsteps now.

Last chance.

He arched his back and clenched his teeth.

The ropes and leash pulled on him, but he didn’t feel them.

This has to work!

He lifted the railing one last time, pushed back with the slat.

It slipped under once more.

The footsteps closer.

He held the railing steady, trying hard not to let it slip again. His hands were wet with sweat now, making it harder to control what he held. His whole body shined with sweat and beads of perspiration rolled down into his hair.

He lifted the railing higher.

One…

He could hear the sound of the door handle turning.