Love Lies Dying (67 page)

Seventy-five

The rain was heavy when they arrived back at the church.

For once, John welcomed the noise of the rain. It covered their footsteps and voices as they approached.

“Where do you think she is?” Sherrie whispered by his ear.

“Helen or Zoe?”

“Helen,” she replied.

“I have no idea. We’ll just have to check everywhere.”

Slowly, they edged towards the church. The night was dark and the pines were hiding them at the edge of the clearing. John could see a glow from the church windows, but he had no idea if Zoe was inside.

Maybe she is. Maybe Helen is too.

Gotta check it out!

“You stay here,” he said over his shoulder to Sherrie.

“No way!” she grabbed his hand. “I go where you go.”

“I want you to be safe!”

“I won’t be safe unless I’m with you.”

John sighed, his breath fogging in front of him.

“Okay, but at the first sign of trouble, head for the forest again, alright?”

Sherrie nodded.

He held her hand tighter; squeezed it.

“Here we go,” he said as they stepped out from the trees and headed towards the church.

Lightning flashed around them, but he couldn’t worry about that now. He had to check the church to see if Zoe or Helen were in there.

I have to know.

And it’s time I started playing the game my way.

They were almost to the church wall. And then they were blinded.

At first John thought it was another flash of lightning, but it lasted too long. It didn’t go away. He put his hands up to his eyes and squinted at the light.

The lights.

The security lights!

Fuck!

Something else forgotten!

He sprinted for the side of the church, pulling Sherrie with him.

She yelped with surprise as they charged for the wall and slammed into it.

John pulled her down low. He was breathing hard, the rain dripping down his face and onto his chest.

“Security lights,” he said between breaths. “I forgot about them.”

Sherrie looked up at the side of the church.

“Well, she knows we’re here now!”

“If she’s here.”

Sherrie nodded, “Yeah. But I’m kinda guessing she’s around here somewhere.”

John agreed.

She must be.

“Stay low,” he said after a few more seconds. He turned himself around to face the church and slowly stood.

He peered into the window.

He couldn’t see much because of the warped stained glass, but there was enough light from inside for him to be pretty sure that the church was empty.

No Zoe.

No Helen.

Damn.

He slid back down against the wall.

“Anything?” Sherrie asked.

He shook his head.

She sighed deeply. “Well, on the positive side, maybe she doesn’t know we’re here, or maybe we’ve beaten her back. So, what do we do now?”

Thunder rolled across the sky.

The security lights automatically shut off, leaving them once again in darkness.

The rain pelted down loudly on the roof of the church and splashed hard into the puddles surrounding them.

“I don’t know,” John replied. “Zoe said Helen was back at the church. Or near it.”

“Near?”

“Yeah.”

“Is there any other place around here that you know of?”

John shook his head. “No,” he replied, looking into the darkness.

Think...

Think about what you saw out here Saturday night. Where else could the body be? Where else could Helen and Zoe be?

He re-traced his steps Saturday night.

And then it hit him.

So simple!

He should’ve thought of it earlier.

“Quick,” he grabbed her hand as he stood up.

“What?”

“I know where to try!”

“Where?”

“The machinery shed!”

“Huh?”

He pulled her along the side of the church, splashing through the puddles as they ran. Nearing the back wall, the security lights flooded the area once more.

They reached the corner of the church and John pointed across to the shed standing behind the church.

“The machinery shed! She must be in there!”

He turned to face Sherrie. There was hope in her eyes.

The rain fell about them as he took her in his arms and kissed her hard. Her lips were wet and salty, but warm too.

“I love you,” she whispered as they parted.

“I love you too,” he replied as he smiled. “Come on, let’s do it!”

They ran across the open area between the back of the church and the machinery shed.

The rain fell hard, slanting across and thudding into them like flies.

The security lights at the back of the church flooded the area with light.

But John didn’t care. He’d almost won.

Nothing’s going to stop me now.

I’ve beaten her. Beaten her at her own sick, fucked up game!

They slid to a halt outside the double doors and window of the shed.

John cupped his hands and looked inside.

He couldn’t make anything out. It was too dark and too hard to see. His breath quickly began steaming up the window.

“See anything?” Sherrie asked.

“No, too dark.”

The rain fell heavier.

“Here, help me with these,” John said as he threw back the metal latch on the double doors.

Sherrie pulled open one door as John opened the other.

They stood in front of the shed with both doors open.

So dark in there…

Lightning flashed about them, a double fork of light.

It illuminated inside the shed.

Noooooooooo!
John’s mind screamed.

But there was no doubt about it.

The shed was empty.

Seventy-six

He leaned against the door of the shed and closed his eyes tight.

Thunder rolled across the sky.

I can’t let her win again!
he thought.

She said Helen was near the church. Near the church…

“Honey, you okay?” Sherrie was by his side.

He nodded, but kept his eyes closed.

“There’s nothing here,” she said.

He nodded again.

Near the church…

But where?

She said near the church.

Where else? WHERE?

And then his stomach flipped over.

Oh Jesus fucking Christ!

The graveyard!

It all made sense to him. He remembered the freshly dug mounds he had seen on Saturday night.

She’s done this before,
he thought.
She’s killed before! And that’s where Helen will be!

In the graveyard.

Oh God! Oh God!

He opened his eyes as lightning flashed again. It was one last chance to check the shed, but he knew it was empty.

Sherrie was kneeling down, looking at the ground, her hand stretched out towards the puddles.

“There’s drag marks here,” she said to him. “And they’re not very old.”

“Huh?” He tried to concentrate on what she was saying, “What do you mean?”

“Someone’s dragged something, or someone, out of here just recently and left two drag marks in the ground. Look!”

John bent down next to Sherrie. There was enough illumination from the security lights for him to make out two long trails left in the ground. They were gouged deeply into the mud and the rain was pooling in them. They started from somewhere in the shed, crossed some tyre tracks and led off towards the side of the church.

And towards the graveyard!

Maybe Helen hasn’t been buried in the graveyard yet.

Maybe Zoe’s doing that now!

Oh God!

Shit!

I have to stop her!

I have to stop it all!

John stood and grabbed Sherrie’s hand.

“Quickly,” he said over the thunder. “I know where she is!”

They turned and ran back through the mud and puddles to the side of the church. He didn’t have any trouble spotting the paved path heading off into the bushes. Almost by instinct he knew where it would be.

And he was right.

The rain fell heavy and hard as they ran down the wet, slippery path.

As they did so, they left the floodlights and the church behind them. The night swallowed them again in its claustrophobic blanket of dark.

“John,” Sherrie called from behind him. “Slow
down
!”

But he didn’t have the time. He couldn’t. He had to get to the graveyard.

Have to save Helen…

She’s dead!

But I still have to save her!

The cold night air seemed clammy now, closing in and pushing down on them with the rain.

It was dark, but he knew what was up ahead.

Come on, come on…

Quickly!

A new set of lights illuminated from in front of him.

Yes!

He squinted for a moment as he ran onto the tennis court, but he didn’t stop.

He knew where he was headed.

He turned, his feet sliding on the wet clay of the court, and sprinted towards the gap in the trees and the path to the graveyard.

“John!” Sherrie called from behind him.

Not now. I have to get there!

“John!
Stop!
”

No! I can’t! Not now!

“John, Helen’s
here!
”

Huh? What?

John skidded to a halt just a few short feet away from the path to the graveyard.

He turned around slowly.

Sherrie was standing to the side of the tennis court, leaning on one of the tennis net poles. She was breathing hard, her chest heaving, and her eyes were looking away from him. Her finger was pointing across the court.

To the gazebo.

And the X-frame.

John followed her gaze.

No, oh no, Jesus, please no…

And through the rain he could see her.

Helen was tied to the X-frame in the gazebo.

Or what was left of her…

Lightning flashed above them. John could see her naked, battered and twisted body, the black and blue bruises, and the dried blood.

Nooooo!

This can’t be happening!

Nooooo!

He ran towards her, sprinting across the court and up the steps into the gazebo.

Sherrie called out to him, but he didn’t hear her over the thunder and the rain.

He didn’t look back.

All he could see was Helen’s beaten body.

All he could hear was the pitiful cry in his throat.

He stopped in front of her.

“Oh,
Helen
,” he whispered as he reached out and touched her cold, bloodied face.

She was tied to the X-frame in exactly the same position he had been on Monday night. Her bruised arms hung above her, stretched across the top of the X, and her cut and burned legs were tied at the bottom. John could see the damage done to her breasts by the fire poker; dark, ugly burn marks where Helen’s nipples used to be. They made the skin look as if it had melted on her body before drying into a putrefying black mass.

He could only imagine the pain she must’ve gone through.

Helen’s head looked different, out of shape; a large piece of skull near her forehead was compressed in an unnatural way. Her hair was matted and full of dried blood, and in some places missing completely, having been pulled out at the root.

Her face was turned to the side, looking away from him. Her eyes were shut and her mouth was open in what looked like a half-scream. John thought he saw tears rolling from her eyes, but he realised it was just the rain, rolling from her body.

Zoe must have dragged her from the shed.

He stepped closer, reaching out to touch her.

Oh, Helen, I’m so sorry.

But he couldn’t do it.

He lowered his head in shame.

I can’t even touch you. Not now.

His eyes looked lower.

Between Helen’s legs.

And he saw the silver ladle sticking out from Helen’s vagina.

No! No, Zoe…you didn’t!

Fuck!

No! No, how could you?

Oh fuck! No!

Lightning struck, reflecting off the silver handle.

He fell to his knees.

Nooooooooo!

The rain fell heavier, bouncing from the gazebo roof in a deafening cacophony of sound. Thunder rolled in.

You won’t do this,
he thought as he reached out for the ladle.
You can’t do this to her! It’s not her fault!

He grabbed hold of the cold handle with shaking hands. It was sticky – just like it was all those years ago.

I won’t have you treat her like this!

Slowly, he began pulling it from her body.

It came down slowly, streaked with blood and mucus and melted skin and darker specks of something.

John wiped the tears from his eyes.

Lightning struck as he continued to pull.

This is all my fault! But I wasn’t to know. I didn’t know then that all this would happen! How could I
fucking
know?

You deserved better, Helen, so much better.

I’m so sorry. I’m the reason you’re here!

And there’s nothing I can do about it now.

Thunder rolled.

And Sherrie screamed.

The thunder got louder.

Even louder.

The ladle slipped out of Helen and through his hands, falling to the floor with a clatter.

There, it’s done…

The thunder continued.

John sighed deeply, turned around and looked out to the tennis court.

Sherrie was yelling at him, frantically waving her hands in the air.

He couldn’t hear her.

“What?” he called.

The rain was too heavy on the roof.

The thunder too loud.

But then he realised it wasn’t thunder.

It was a motor he could hear.

Revving.

Getting louder.

He turned to his left just in time to see the tractor speeding towards him.

With Zoe at the wheel.