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I walk up the stairs and I find two large bedrooms and a bathroom and no damn computer. Oh my god. I stand in the hallway—what am I going to do? Shit, I walk back down, pick up the phone again and repeatedly bang on the receiver. “Why is there no fucking phone?” I yell to myself. “Seriously, can I get one break? This is bullshit.” I walk back into the kitchen with my hands on my head. What am I going to do? The rain is really coming down now and I look out the back window into the cold wet darkness. I can’t stay out there unprotected overnight but what if they come here looking for me?
This is a nightmare and I feel my heartrate pick back up. I thought I was saved… obviously not. I sit down at the dining table and pinch the bridge of my nose as I try to think. “Is there anything to eat?” I whisper to myself. I open the pantry and am blessed with the sight of several cans of various foods. I open the drawer, find a tin opener and open a can of baked beans. I eat them cold from the tin as I walk through the house.
I’m uncomfortable being here. If they come looking for me I’m screwed. I walk to the front door and look at the smashed glass in the window pane and the rain pouring heavily outside. God, I’m such an idiot.Why would I smash the window next to the front door? It’s a dead giveaway that I’m here. My fear starts to reignite again and I start to eat my baked beans at double speed. I need to get out of here. I will be found here and the smashed glass will let them know from what direction I have come. Fuck. My heart starts beating fast as I realise I have sabotaged myself with my stupidity. I walk back into the kitchen and open another can of beans and eat them as I walk upstairs to check to see if there are any shoes I can wear. I open the closet in the bedrooms. Nothing but men’s clothes. They will have to do—at least they are dry. I take off my cold wet clothes and my eyes go to the bathroom. I would kill for a hot shower right now. No. If they come when I’m in the shower I will have no chance. Who am I kidding? If they come here at all I’m dead meat. I hate this. I walk into the bathroom, get a towel from the cupboard, then I quickly undress and dry myself. I dress again into a large pair of men’s sweatpants, a white cotton shirt and a large woollen knitted sweater. There is a dark green beanie and I grab that too for when my hair dries. I run back down the stairs with renewed purpose.
I need to find some weapons to defend myself and I walk into the kitchen and open the second drawer. I have never been so glad to see the large collection of carving knives in my life. I slowly pick one out and grip my hand around the handle. The memory of stabbing Carl fills my mind and I close my eyes in disgust at myself. I will never as long as I live forget how a knife feels as it slices through flesh or forget seeing blood spurt from a wound. I shake my head in disgust at myself. “Stop it,” I snap out loud. “He deserved it—he was going to kill you,” I mutter to try and justify my brutality.
Carrying the knife I walk back through the lounge room to look out the front door at the torrential rain. Maybe I should stay here, cut the power and then if they turn up I will have more of a chance to defend myself. Yes, and then I will be out of the weather and I can rest my feet while I wait. Ok, where’s the power box then? I walk up the hall and peer into the room with all of the hunting stuff and I see
a metal cupboard at the back. What’s in there I wonder? I walk over and jiggle the handles—it’s locked. Why would there be a locked metal cabinet in a room like this. I frown as I think and my eyes widen. Guns, there are hunting guns in this cupboard. I start to rattle the handle violently. I need to get into this cupboard. Shit. I run back into the kitchen in search of a tool to break open the cupboard and I get three big knives I can hopefully use as a jimmy. I start to desperately try to fit them through the crack in the door to try and break the lock. I bang repeatedly on the door as I try as hard as I can to open it. “Open,” I scream. “Open!”
I bang on the door and run back out into the kitchen in search of other tools. I look around desperately and for some reason I feel panicked as if any moment they are going to drive up the driveway and I need to turn the lights off immediately. My heart starts to pump adrenaline heavily through my system. Shit, shit, shit. What will I use? What will I use? I look under the kitchen sink and find a hammer and I run back up the hall and start to hit the lock as hard as I can. The noise is deafening on the metal but I keep hitting as hard as I can. “Open, please open,” I cry as I frantically bang on the cupboard door. I am in such a panic that I can hardly breathe and I start to bang on the door with both my hands in frustration.
I kick the door with such force that I dent it and I stop to think for a moment. Hang on, if I tip it over perhaps there is a weakness at the back of the cupboard. I narrow my eyes. Yes, tip it over. I move to the back of it and I start to rock it backwards and forwards and eventually I move it out from the wall enough that I can get my feet under it. I push with all my strength and I get it away from the wall. It rocks forward a little bit and just when I am about to tip it to the ground I hear a metal ping hit the ground and I look to see what it was. Keys. A set of silver keys have fallen off the top of the cabinet and I grab them desperately as a lifeline. I fumble to try and find the right key and eventually I do. I open the door and am blessed with the sight of two shotguns and ammunition. From sheer relief I fall to the floor breathless. “Thank you, thank you.” I whisper as I am momentarily paralysed. I grab the two guns and the bullets and run to the backdoor and out into the rain. Hang on. I need a torch or something. I run back into the kitchen and look under the sink and find a torch first thing. God, that was too easy. I run back out into the rain and around to the power box and I cut the power to the house. I return back inside, lock the doors and slowly make my way upstairs into the darkness. I walk into the main bedroom, sit on the bed and stare out the window at the driveway coming up to the house and I slowly load the gun. I then turn the torch off and stare out into the darkness.
I’m ready. Come and get me.
Chapter 28
Joshua
I sit at the desk in the consultation rooms as I wait for Nicholas. I know why he’s here. The door opens and he appears and smiles warmly. “Hello Joshua.” He frowns when he notices my handcuffs and his eyes flick to the guard who has just brought him into the room. “Remove the cuffs immediately please,” he snaps.
“Hello,” I reply as my eyes flick to the guards. One of them fumbles for his keys and then undoes the tight steel band around my wrist.
“Thank you. Now leave us alone,” Nicholas says.
The guards both nod and leave the room in silence. Nicholas then comes around to my side of the desk and holds his hand out, and I frown as I look at it. “I would like a hug please,” he asks.
I shake my head. “Just sit down.” I sigh.
“No,” he replies. “Stand and give me a hug.”
“Fuck man,” I whisper.
“I’m not going any further until you hug me,” he repeats.
I shake my head and stand and he grabs me into a tight embrace. He holds me still and close and for some reason my emotions immediately rise and I feel the dam about to break. I haven’t been physically touched since I was arrested. As if sensing my inner turmoil he stands still and I drop my head to his shoulder as he holds me.
“These are dark days, yes,” he whispers into my hair.
I nod because the lump in my throat leaves me unable to speak and he holds me tighter.
“It’s ok to be dark,” he whispers.
I briefly escape my emotional cloud, pull back from his grip and wipe my eyes with the heels of my hands.
“Is Adrian ok?” I mumble as I angrily wipe my face.
Nicholas smiles and takes a seat opposite me. “Adrian is doing ok although he is struggling with the company,” he replies as his eyes hold mine.
I shake my head in disgust. “What a mess,” I whisper.
“Joshua, you had your solicitor here yesterday?” he asks.
My eyes rise to meet his. “Yes,” I reply.
“Were you changing your will?” he asks. “Is that why he was here?”
