Page 95 of Shattered Sun

“Help!” she shrieks, the plea bouncing off the steel walls and going nowhere. Just like her.

Hands out in front of her, she rushes from the living room toward the kitchen. She slams into the counter, knocking a pot off the stove before smacking the dangling utensils.

“Run, run, as fast as you can,” I singsong in a deep, sinister voice. “I’ll catch you, I’m the seeker man.”

“Help!” she screams louder as she turns the corner.

I count to twenty. Let her believe she outsmarted me again. Then follow in her wake on quiet feet. In seconds, I find her again, curled up in the corner of the pantry. Trapped.

Reaching for her, I tug at the strap of the negligee. She slams her shoulders into the wall, swatting her hands in the air. I go for the other strap, yanking it hard enough to tear the fabric. She kicks her leg out and hits my shin.

“Fucking bitch,” I yell as she shimmies past me on all fours. “For that, I’ll freshen your scars.”

But she doesn’t get far.

Because I am done. I’ve had my fun.

Now it’s time to make her pay.

I lunge forward and clutch her hips. A deafening scream rips from her lungs as I haul her to my chest, her legs kicking the air.

“Shut the fuck up!” I bark in her ear as I exit the pantry and head for the bedroom. “Time to show me how good a whore you really are. And this time, I’ll make the cuts deeper. I’ll make them last.”

THIRTY-SIX

TRAVIS

As we approach the shack,the faint light goes out.

“Shit,” I mutter under my breath.

“What?” Ben whispers, fearful.

I pull out my phone to see a new message from Dad.

The closer we’d gotten to the light source, the more confused I’d been. The Emerson family owned this property, and others, for generations. My siblings and I had trekked almost every inch of terrain within its borders with our parents and grandparents.

And not once had I set eyes on this structure.

Weathered by years of summer sun and harsh winters, the ramshackle hut looked as if it’d crumble any minute.

How have we never seen this?

“Not a good sign.” I jut my chin toward the shack. “Either he saw us or…”

I read Dad’s message.

Chief

On our way. Wait for backup.

“Or what?”

I peer up from the screen and meet Ben’s wide eyes. I don’t want to lie to him, but more than that, I don’t want to give a voice to what else I think it means.

This sick fuck is about to make his move.

I type a response to Dad and share my location.