Sue, page 25
“I’m not lying,” Sue said, now afraid to try for her gun.
Zeke suddenly jerked the wheel, turned into a drive, and bumped over ruts, banging the undercarriage against the ground as he pulled up to the old abandoned farmhouse where they’d spent many a passionate hour the previous year. “Home sweet home,” he said with satisfaction as he parked her car around back, out of sight of the road.
He cuffed her in the head again for good measure before he got out of the car and strode around to her side. His knuckle caught her eye and her vision swam. She fumbled to pull the door handle and free her purse, but he was too quick. He opened the door, yanked her out, and dragged her, stumbling and falling, through the weeds to the front of the derelict structure. They thumped over the old boards of the porch and into the dim interior. It took a few seconds for Sue’s eyes to adjust.
Surprising her, Zeke snatched her bag and tossed it onto the floor, away from them. It landed with a thud. “What the hell do you women put in those things anyway? Rocks?” He shoved her toward an old quilt spread across the floor.
Laid out carefully against one wall were assorted implements, the sight of which bathed Sue in a cold sweat. Flashlights. Candles. Hammer and nails. A hacksaw. A blowtorch. A camera. He watched the panic spread over her face.
He grinned. “As you can see, I’ve got all kinds of excitement planned. And I’m going to take my time, enjoy every bit.” His smile faded and a hard glint shone in his eyes. “Take off your clothes, Sue.”
“No!” She backed up, wishing desperately she could reach her purse, which lay at least four feet away. But Zeke blocked her access. There was no way she would be able to get to it without him stopping her. And he’d probably get suspicious and open it if she kept trying for it. Fighting dizziness, she turned and stumbled toward the door instead.
She heard the sound of his boots on the floor before he grabbed her from behind. Her self defense training kicked in. Without thinking, she stepped hard on his foot, threw her head backward at the same time, and heard a satisfying crunch. He yelled and loosened his hold on her. She thrust her elbow with all the force she could muster into his abdomen, then turned and grabbed his shoulders for leverage, pulling him toward her before burying her knee in his groin.
He crumpled, but retained enough sense to grab her foot as she scrambled across the floor. As she dragged herself, splinters buried themselves in her skin. Zeke got a grip on her ankles, then calves, as he crawled up on her.
“You broke my fucking nose, you bitch!” he growled. “Come back here!”
She kicked at him, freeing herself from one of his hands, and pulled herself closer to her purse and the gun inside. Reaching out, stretching with all her might, she snagged the strap with a finger and jerked it toward her. Zeke regained his hold on her legs and climbed upward.
She groped for the zipper of her bag, slid it back. Zeke flipped her over and pounced on top of her. The bag fell from her hands. She screamed, writhed beneath him, his enraged face hanging over her. Blood ran from his nose and his eyes burned with fury. His hands circled her neck and began to squeeze.
“I’d choke the life out of you right now,” he snarled, “but that would spoil our fun.”
He rose up above her, lifted her by the neck, and banged her head against the floor, cursing her. Her consciousness tried to steal away, but she fought against blacking out and slapped her hands around beside her. Her fingers found what they sought. As the darkness gathered across her field of vision, she pulled her bag closer, slid her hand inside, and her finger onto the trigger of her gun.
Faintly, Sue thought she heard the sound of a car engine. It grew closer and Zeke paused, still holding her by the throat. “Sounds like we’ve got company.”
Outside, tires crunched to a stop and the motor ceased. Someone was definitely there. Sue gasped and tried to scream for help, but her voice was raspy and barely audible. Whoever was out there had no idea what they were about to walk into. But maybe it would be enough of a distraction that she could gain control of the situation.
Sue tried to lift her purse, turn it so the barrel of the gun would be pointing at Zeke. Her arm shook uncontrollably.
Zeke jerked around and scooted back against a wall. Using it for leverage he stood, lifting Sue with him and shielding his body with hers. Her hand slipped from the gun but she clutched the lining of the bag, bringing it with her as Zeke pulled her up. He kept one arm across her arms and chest, and pinned her tightly against the front of his body; the blood from his nose smeared the back of her hair. The knife was suddenly in his other hand and he held it to her neck.
Melvin and Will had separated when they pulled up, moving around the house quickly, peering into windows, trying to locate Sue and evaluate the situation. After a whispered consultation, they both burst through the front door, weapons drawn.
Melvin’s heart raced as he saw a man with a knife to Sue’s throat. “Get the hell away from her!” he shouted and started to dash forward, but Will’s arm shot out and stopped him.
Zeke stared at the two intruders and barked a humorless laugh as he recognized Will. “I’ll be damned. Just like old times. Still playing Superman, you redheaded bastard? Who’s your sidekick?” Zeke’s broken nose and blood-clogged sinus robbed his voice of its melodious tone, giving it a nasal quality. “Remember St. Louie? You royally fucked me over there. Ruined everything. Made me lose all my stuff. My wheels, my laptop. I’d love to have five minutes alone in a room with you. Just you and me.”
“Yeah? I’d like that too. Let’s do it. Send these two outside and we’ll throw down. I’ll even make it fair; I’ll lose the gun.” Will’s grin was dark, mirthless.
“Wrong time, wrong place. But it’s gonna happen someday, buddy. I promise you that.”
Zeke gripped Sue harder, moved the knife from her neck, and laid the blade against her cheek, pointing toward her right eye.
“Melvin,” she whimpered, voice husky with fear.
Melvin pointed his gun but couldn’t take the shot. Sweat broke out on his forehead. “Sue! Don’t move, honey. Just hold real still.”
Zeke’s eyes traveled over Melvin’s anguished face. “Oh, I see how it is now. Got yourself a new man, did you, Susie?” He pressed a kiss to her hair, keeping his eyes on Melvin and Will. Sneering toward Melvin, Zeke mocked, “Just remember, loser, I had her first. Mmm-mmm, did I ever. And not just me. I could tell you stories.”
“Shut your filthy mouth,” Will said calmly, working his way slowly to the other side of the room. “No one wants to hear the trash that comes out; I can guarantee you that.”
Melvin's jaw was rigid. He moved the opposite direction as Will, looking for a side shot that wouldn't put Sue in the direct line of fire.
“Stop right where you are, both of you. I know what you're trying to do and it won't work.” Zeke dug the knife tip into Sue's cheek, drawing a bead of blood. “Remember, Red, last time I stuck her good. This time I'll twist the blade. There'll be no recovery from this one.”
Sue still fumbled inside her purse, fingertips grazing the gun. Melvin's gaze flicked to her bag and quickly away. He must have realized it held her gun, but he gave no sign. Sue tried to send him a message with her eyes as her hand closed once again around the handle of her weapon. She flipped off the safety and slipped her finger onto the trigger, raising the purse, ready to shoot.
Zeke began dragging Sue toward the doorway. “This time I'm taking her with me. Nobody's gonna swoop in and rescue little Susie today.”
The sound of the shot split the air and Zeke slumped against Sue, knocking her to the dirty floor. He fell on top of her, blood and gore bursting from a hole in his head. His arm slipped from around her and she heard the death rattle deep inside his body, gurgling its way out of his lungs. Sue twisted her head to the side, trying to avoid the slimy touch of his wet cheek. She panted to breathe.
“Sue! Are you okay?” Will kept his gun aimed at Zeke until he verified the man was indeed dead, then slid his weapon into his shoulder holster.
“Help me! Get him off me!” Sue begged, hysterical.
Melvin rushed to her side, rolled Zeke’s body away, and gathered her into his arms. “I don’t remember pulling the trigger,” she sobbed into his shoulder.
Melvin stroked her hair, kissed her forehead. “You didn’t. Will shot him.”
Epilogue
Melvin finished arranging his books on the shelf and carried the last empty box to the kitchen, broke it down, and added it to the pile. He slipped into his jacket. Sue was putting away his mugs and the few other dishes he’d brought with him. “All done?” she asked.
“That’s the last of it. I’ll be right back; I’m going to take these out to the trash.” He ducked outside with the cardboard and returned a few minutes later. “The car will still be warm, if we leave pretty soon. I’m ready to go anytime you are.”
“Got the lighter fluid and matches?”
“In the trunk.”
“I’ll get my journals and files.” Sue retrieved her notebooks and folders from the bedroom and put on her coat. “Where do you think we should do this?”
“Either out by the lake or in the park. Both places have charcoal grills and I doubt there’ll be any people at either one on a day like this.” He opened the front door and gazed out at the falling snow, pulling on his gloves. “Hard to believe it’s almost Thanksgiving already.”
“Hard to believe I’ve waited this long to do this.” Sue slung her purse over a shoulder and cradled the journals and files in her arms.
“Hasn’t been all that long.” Melvin escorted her outside and turned to lock the door. “Just little over a month ago. And there’s been a lot of chaos since then.”
He walked her to the car and opened the door for her. She settled in the seat and sat calmly as Melvin walked around, quickly cleared the windshield with his gloved hands, and got in the driver’s side. He started the engine and turned to look at Sue. “Are you sure you want to do this? I mean, these are your writings.”
“I’m absolutely positive. These pages are filled with agony, with confusion, and with heartache. And the files need destroyed as well. I’ll be glad to be rid of them. It will symbolize a fresh start. Not only for me, but for us.” Her last moments with Zeke had cleared up any residual confusion she’d had. She wanted nothing more than to destroy her misguided ramblings on the subject; they now embarrassed her.
The streets were lightly dusted with white and snow was beginning to accumulate at the curb and on the trees. Gray clouds hung low in the sky.
The soft swish of the wiper blades was a comforting sound and the heater filled the car with warm air. Melvin drove carefully toward the city park. “I talked to Will today. The investigation is still ongoing, but authorities remain clueless as to Zeke’s real identity. They’re considering putting a sketch of his face on the national news, hoping someone will come forward with information on him.”
“He probably murdered his family,” Sue said bitterly.
“Hard telling with that guy. He was certainly capable of it.” Melvin signaled to turn. “Maybe his family made him the way he was.”
“I’ve thought about that. A lot. At one time, I wanted to find an excuse for his cruelty.” Sue gazed out at the passing cars. “But, I’ve pretty much come to the conclusion he was a bad seed.
Like Dr. Camden said, he was just defective.” “Born without a conscience? Like that?” Melvin braked at a stoplight.
“Yes.” Sue shivered at the thought. “I’ll be glad when this is finished.”
Melvin reached over and squeezed her knee, keeping one eye on the road.
The park was deserted, as expected. Melvin stopped the car near a picnic area. As they walked toward a grill, Sue turned her face toward the sky, let the snowflakes fall onto her cheeks and melt there. Melvin took her elbow to guide her.
“Okay, baby. Here we are.” He set the lighter fluid on the edge of the brick cooker and pulled a book of matches from his jeans pocket.
Sue took off her gloves and handed them to Melvin. She put the file folders onto the grill and doused them liberally with fluid. Melvin tossed a lit match on top and flames burst forth, causing them both to step back.
Sue flipped idly through the journal pages one last time. “It’s almost like these were written by a stranger. That’s how much I’ve changed in the last year.” Then opening the notebooks, she laid them on top of the blaze.
“Goodbye, old life,” Sue whispered.
Melvin stood next to her and put his arm around her shoulders. They watched until the last piece of paper browned, curled, and finally disintegrated into ash. Fat snowflakes drifted lazily in the air around them, sounds strangely muffled.
She tossed the empty lighter fluid can into a nearby trash barrel. Melvin offered her gloves and she slipped them on, her expression peaceful. He wrapped her in his arms and she returned his embrace. “It’s all over now,” he murmured against her ear. “Let’s go home.”
Notes of Interest
Cover photo for Sue by Nikolai Chernyshev (©Depositphotos/fotonikola)
Epigraph taken from the novel How to Be Good by Nick Hornby
Coming soon:
Alyiria by Wodke Hawkinson. On a distant planet, a young girl discovers she is heir to the throne and must journey across dangerous lands to claim her birthright.
Available now:
Tangerine by Wodke Hawkinson. Set in a future time when aliens are a natural part of everyday life and travel to distant planets is commonplace.
Betrayed by Wodke Hawkinson. She is taken captive during a botched carjacking. And her nightmare begins.
Zeke by Wodke Hawkinson. A dark novel of sexual obsession and psychological suspense.
Betrayed - Alternate Ending by Wodke Hawkinson.
Catch Her in the Rye, Selected Short Stories Volume One by Wodke Hawkinson.
Blue, Selected Short Stories Volume Two by Wodke Hawkinson.
Alone, Selected Short Stories, Volume Three by Wodke Hawkinson.
“Ghost Writer”, a short story by Wodke Hawkinson.
“Misery Loves Company”, a short story by Wodke Hawkinson.
“Acim”, a short story by Wodke Hawkinson.
Half Bitten by PJ Hawkinson. A tale of vampire revenge.
James Willis Makes a Million by K Wodke. A book for young readers about a boy who refuses to stay poor.
Mirtis Tod by K. Wodke. A novelette. Mirtis has a ghastly physical problem, and little time left to solve it.
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About the Authors
Wodke Hawkinson is the name under which writing duo PJ Hawkinson and Karen Wodke produce their collaborated works. The authors have been friends since high school, but did not form their writing team until 2009. Before combining forces, each completed a solo project in addition to publishing various short stories and/or articles.
Both PJ and Karen attended school in Kansas. PJ graduated from Hutchinson Community College, and Karen attended HCC and Kansas Wesleyan University. Both reside in different Midwestern towns, and do much of their collaboration via telephone and the internet. However, they have been known to discuss ideas while casting their lines at a quiet lake, as they both enjoy fishing.
Enjoy this excerpt from Wodke Hawkinson’s novel,
Tangerine.
The moon’s jump terminal was much like a large airport, only on a grander scale. Hovering above the building was the enormous E-H Transporter. Sleek and ovoid, it gleamed with the sheen of an opal. Ava stood speechless before it, gaping like a tourist seeing the great pyramids for the first time. Nothing could have prepared her for the sight. Ships of all sizes were being uploaded into the E-H. The giant transporter reminded Ava of a hive with busy bees swarming around it. Closing her mouth, Ava moved into the terminal where, due to her employment with Alliance, she was spared the usual agony of pre-flight check-in. She and Pisk moved past long lines of travelers, and went directly to the boarding station.
If she thought the outside of the transporter to be impressive then she certainly found the inside to be the opposite. Barren hallways led to the center of the transporter. Here, voyagers would stand in waist-high aisles in the order they entered. Seats could be dropped from the partitions if needed, and were being used here and there as the passengers waited for the uploading to end.
Air conditioning was not supplied, deemed unnecessary for a flight lasting less than a second. However, it seemed the designers of the ship had not considered the loading time. Ava was standing behind a rather heavyset man who reeked of body odor. Unable to move backwards, or even turn to the side due to the press of people from every direction, Ava took shallow breaths as she covered her mouth with her hand and prayed they would soon get under way. Pisk buried his face in her neck.
In answer to her prayer, a recorded voice announced that they would now make the jump. A mere nano-second after this announcement, the same mechanical voice welcomed them to the primary moon of Tangerine in the 32nd sector. Amazing, Ava thought, never felt a thing. She had heard stories about earlier jumps when travelers felt as if they were being pushed through the floor. Modern jumps had thankfully advanced to the point where dimension shifts were unnoticeable.
