No Service (8 page)

Chris was grunting with the effort of the battle. The man was absolutely perfectly silent. She could just barely hear the swing of the ax one more time and Chris screamed with anguish like she’d never heard from anyone in her whole life. She was snuffling and sobbing. He was dying, he had to be dying and she was next.

She screamed with furious frustration throwing dirt and handfuls of grass around as she searched.

“Run!”

Chris’s cry from the dark made her jump. Her brain was able to leave the task it was trapped in and she found her feet. She had no idea how the killer had been moving in the darkness, but she didn’t think he could possibly see. He had to be as blind as they were. His progress had to have followed theirs with the same light.

Her legs were like jelly as she fought her way forward. It was a wretched process of shuffling and stepping up high and carefully placing her feet back down only when she was certain of the ground below. She couldn’t afford to trip or even worse fall and break something. If she hurt herself too bad to walk or was loud enough to follow easily, she’d be dead for certain in the morning.

Even her lungs were trying their best to operate in stealth. She couldn’t control their occasional panicked gasp, but long, deep inhales and slow, careful exhales would make her hard to find. She couldn’t detect where the killer was, but she knew he’d be trying to follow.

Then a horrible thought struck her. Maybe she wasn’t in any immediate danger for now. Maybe he was back working on Chris, hacking away with that horrible ax. She couldn’t even fathom the thought of the weapon plunging into her husband’s chest. It simply couldn’t be possible. She couldn’t wrap her mind around the very concept.

Her body trembled. Despite her need for escape, it was as if every cell in her body was working against her, to keep her there as if accepting slaughter. She fought the panic rising in her chest.

On and on, she hurried slowly, a maddening concept as her feet tried to rush, but couldn’t. Only after she was certain she’d gone quite a ways did she finally stop and huddle into a ball against a tree. Tripping and stubbing her toes had been hard. A few times, she’d even smacked her seeping shin with low-lying shrubs or twigs. She was certain it was open and bleeding again. She had no idea how long she’d been moving. Without a phone and with the stars stationary overhead, there was no gauge of time.

She kept her crying to an imperceptible level. Tears washed from her eyes as a waterfall, but she didn’t make a single peep. When she had let out the stress and pain, she shuddered and gave a single whimper, then sat herself upright. She was ready. Whatever came next, she was ready.

She sat rigidly against the tree, knowing that she couldn’t do anything until she could see. It was simply a fact that she had to accept. It was nice to rest. Her thoughts were so jumbled that there was no panic or despair left in her, just an insanity of a thousand partial thoughts all interrupting each other. She felt broken and defeated. Sometimes her heart leapt to Chris, but mostly she was blank in her conscious trance.

Jess opened her eyes to a gray light. She hadn’t fallen asleep, but it had been too much work trying to keep her eyelids open for nothing. The night was receding and daylight was just beginning to sneak in. The sky overhead was so overcast it would be the sort of day where finding the position of the sun would be impossible.

Her body was quaking with exhaustion and cold. She hoped that it would warm up and dry the dew and sweat that clung to her in a sheen from head to toe. It was the exact same feeling as being sick with a deadly flu. Her joints hurt, her thoughts were sluggish and woozy, and she had no energy.

The sky brightened as she willed her body to do her bidding. Simply existing was so difficult and painful, if she could have faded away, she would have, but lethargy wasn’t an option.

As the day began to warm, she forced herself to her feet. Everything in every direction was an endless repeat of itself. Tall trees with branch arms raised to heaven surrounded her, giving her no hint of what direction to head.

She wasn’t even certain she’d survive another night without water and proper shelter. Her lips were chapped and flaky. Her skin was pale. She hadn’t peed since some time the day before. Even her eyes were so dry it was nice to take a few recalculated steps with her lids closed, despite the itching burn. The heat only exacerbated the problem.

She heard a faint shout. It was there only just heard over the wind. She thought she’d heard it in the night, too, but she thought for certain it was an imagined fever dream of her terror and guilt over leaving Chris behind.

The anguish in the sound jolted her alert. Her heart jumped in her throat and she listened intently. Closing her eyes, she focused her senses. The sharpness of pine needles invaded her nose. The whisper of breezes through the trees spoke to her and chilled her despite the ambient summer warmth. Suddenly it was there again, quick and high so far in the distance she couldn’t be certain it was human. Coyotes and other animals made horrible, nearly human noises, too. It was a chance she’d have to take.

No sun meant no compass for her path north to the lake. Fleeing blindly had removed any confidence she had in getting out. And if Chris was alive, she couldn’t leave him behind. No matter their ups and downs, she couldn’t leave him to die like that.

Her feet moved robotically toward where she thought she’d heard the shouting. Dips and valleys crossed her path time and again. When she could traverse them without much trouble, she kept on the same forward slogging path. When they were steep, she’d walk around.

There was nothing left in her to feel anymore fear. She was certain if the killer burst out of the bushes and attacked, her mind was at a loss for emotion and care. Self-preservation had become a mechanical thing that would only be a necessity in genuine imminent danger. Otherwise, she was satisfied to walk straight into the fate that was looming.

The cut on her leg had resealed itself in the night, trapping more dirt and bacteria under the skin. The flesh around it was red, hot, and angry. It stood up puffy and swollen, infected and painful to the touch.

She was certain the cry she kept hearing was probably human, but she didn’t think it was Chris. It sounded more like a woman.

No matter how frightened and broken the sound came through the woods, Jess continued to shuffle along at the same pace. Step after step, she forged her way.

Her lumbering feet willed her along. Her wounded leg throbbed and she was certain it was exceptionally bad, but finally her brain had focused on the closeness of the screams.

A tall group of bushes blocked her path and she crashed through them forcefully. Her shoe plunged downward and in the fraction of a second it took to fall she was certain that it was going to be another long walk off a short ledge. Down she plunged, her brain throwing itself into a survivalist mode. She threw her arms up to protect her face and head.

Just as she reacted, she splashed down into the shallow water of a muddy pond. Cattails grew in a wall and her fall had bent several over. They had offered a bit of cushion. Her whole front was soaked with brown water. Jess pushed herself up to her hands and knees. The water was so cold compared to the sweltering summer air.

Crawling forward, she smashed her way through the plant life. The water rose up around her thighs, then her stomach. As soon as its soothing coolness had her saturated to her shoulders, she relaxed.

It was a dark green, almost black. Up close, she could see dirt and debris floating in it. She had no idea if it was stagnant because it didn’t smell sour, but it certainly didn’t smell fresh either. It had an algae scent similar to when the lake would turn over seasonally carrying water from the bottom to the surface and bringing all the winter gunk up. The smell was filthy and no sane person would ever consider drinking water like that.

She thought of the times Chris had told her about people drinking contaminated water. The bacteria and possible parasites were enough to make the average person squirm. Jess was one of those average people, but in that moment, she was so parched that it made no difference to her. Taking a huge breath she gulped down one mouthful after another until her stomach hurt.

She sat on the muddy bottom of the water, her head and shoulders out of the water. She relaxed slightly as she digested what she had swallowed. She could practically feel every cell of her body filling out with delicious hydration and becoming less mummified. Her thinking even seemed to return to a more aware state.

The scream rang out again, but Jess wasn’t ready to get up. They unknown person had been freaking out for quite a while, but another few minutes was all she needed. As soon as she thought she could, she drank even more. It was the best and worst thing she had ever tasted. She wished Chris had been there to partake as well.

Once quenched, Jess sat considering the face she’d seen last night. It was positively a man. She thought he’d had sandy hair and was wearing farmer clothing, like overalls or something. It had happened so fast and she’d been so disturbed that she knew her brain could be making up any and every part of the whole image.

She wondered if perhaps after he finished murdering people, that maybe his day life was so average, you’d never know. She gave him a generic face in her mind, then decided he probably had a cleft chin like a movie villain. She wondered what he did in his everyday life.

Perhaps he was a car dealer. Suit and tie. The whole business package of service with a winning smile. She could see him selling a nice elderly couple a sensible car with a silver paint job. Something he thought they’d love to drive to church and the store.

Next, she considered him working in a call center. She’d heard so many people joke about how incoming calls from angry customers was enough to drive some people bonkers. The man would answer the phone with gritted teeth and angry eyebrows cinched together so hard the skin would turn white.

She laid back in the pond and felt her body float up from the bottom. She felt lighter than air. Her leg was chop suey, her clothes were grimy, but she had the beautiful luxury of a quick dip. Swimming was her heart and she felt just a little more grounded being further from the actual earth. She closed her eyes and continued to let her mind drift.

Perhaps the man worked as a farmer. His clothing, or at least what she thought she’d seen him in, suggested physical outdoor labor. She couldn’t imagine anyone else but a farmer wearing overalls in their casual life after the age of five or unless they were a teenage girl in the ‘90s. He had been swinging the ax with vicious force, so she guessed he probably did a lot of woodcutting.

Or she supposed that he could spend a lot of time murdering people and was particularly good at it.

“Guess everyone needs to aspire to something,” she thought to herself as she reluctantly righted herself and swam to the far edge of the pond. It wasn’t far to the opposite shore. She broke through the barrier of cattails and stumbled upright.

Jess dragged her legs out of the mud as she walked up onto shore. She was varying shades of brown all over, but felt worlds better. Her clothes weighed more and her pants and shoes were a thousand pounds heavier.

She hiked her jeans up hoping they would stay relatively in place and wouldn’t try to make an escape toward her ankles. She really didn’t want to die because her pants decided to show off her underwear.

Her shoes didn’t squelch, but she knew she’d want to dry them out as soon as possible. Trench foot was another thing Chris had told her about. Cool temps, wetness, and unsanitary conditions could all lead to feet turning gross enough to get gangrene. It was probably the wrong conditions, but living with a nurse full of horror stories was apt to make a person paranoid.

She assured herself it was worth it for water. She hadn’t been thinking clearly before. The summer heat was already making her feel sticky again from head to toe and her hair and clothing only compounded the issue.

She wanted to take things off and wring them out to start the process more quickly, but another choking yelp brought her concentration back to the task she’d initially set out to accomplish. It was fairly close.

Stealth was the new game plan. Jess began to move more calculated and careful. Her body was sharp and aware even after drinking what had to be almost a gallon of grubby water. She was appalled to realize how loud she’d been carving her path. Now she imagined herself as the wind in the leaves as she slowly moved on.

The rising humidity felt unbearable. Soon, the sky broke open and it began to rain. It wasn’t a hard rain, but it was loud. Each drop falling to the earth offered further protection against being noticed. The pitter patter against the leaves was a resounding smack. It also dissipated her guilt over soaking everything for a swim.

The wetness in their air heightened her sense of smell. She could detect the deep, natural smells of the surrounding forest. It was a delight for the senses despite the fact that at any moment someone could come hacking away at her.

She boldly picked up her pace and soon could hear crying. It was a defeated noise. The sound of someone who was resigned to their fate. Peering between the trees and shrubs, she surveyed the scene before her. The air smelled coppery. Jess was certain it was blood.

There was a woman tied to a tree before her. Her lank blonde hair hung over her face streaked with dark red streaks of blood. Her arms were bound behind her and her feet were also lashed to the base of the towering maple.