The Hostile Wife

2-1

2 Dead, but not too much

That prolonged silence was driving her insane.

Sitting by Tom's side in his Mercedes, Alice was having second thoughts and, as much as she tried to deny it, she still had to admit that the sexy plan she pictured had vanished by that moment. It was such a pity!

She stole a glance at him once again, forcing herself not to drool. He was strikingly handsome, in a way that was almost unreal, but he only cared about the road, looking so focused he forgot she was still there, by his side. He had turned on his earpiece to talk to someone, maybe a co-worker, saying words like dead end and resetting now and she shivered for the coldness he used to pronounce them. His voice sounded so commanding, it was better not to contradict him, and when he realized she could hear him, he started to speak in German. Bewildered by that rudeness and quite close to telling him to f**k off, Alice went back to look at the darkness outside her window. More minutes passed by, then his sudden question made her jump.

“You didn't answer me before. Why were you at that ridiculous party? You and your friends had nothing better to do?”

Again, that annoyed, derisive tone. Since starting a fight with him didn't seem a good idea, because he could abandon her in the middle of nowhere, she just shrugged.

“We wanted to try something different. After all, I don't think it went all that bad, since you and I met, right?”

“Yes, but didn't you have anything else to do?” he insisted. “A romantic date, a movie at the cinema… Why there, why tonight?”

“If you want to know, it was Gina's idea. My friend stopped by my place and basically forced me to go to that stupid party. She even picked out my dress. Fancy that! She didn’t want me to miss out on this amazing experience.”

Alice didn’t mention that Gina had also picked out her underwear: it was an unnecessary detail. Bill mulled over it for a long while. The matter seemed to be rather serious to him.

“Maybe it was simply a matter of destiny,” she sighed.

He swung around furious, as if she had cursed in an unforgivable way but, before she could elaborate on the issue, a black car appeared from a side road and rear-ended their Mercedes. The violent impact would have sent her straight through the windshield, if she hadn’t worn her safety belt, but even this way she clearly felt the whiplash on her neck.

Bill, next to her, reacted promptly and, after a hard braking to avoid a skid, he gave a quick look into the rearview.

Alice figured he was going to turn the engine off to take care of paperwork procedures and felt somehow relieved. At least he would stop bothering her with that mocking tone. Instead, he started the car again so fast the tires screeched, burning rubber on the asphalt. The other car did the same, following them.

Alice was terrified. “What are you doing? Stop right now! They might have gotten hurt too!”

Bill didn’t listen to her, but sped up to put more distance between the cars while moving onto secondary and less travelled roads.

“Are you insane? They're gonna call the police! Stop!”

The hint of desperation in her voice seemed to strike and distract him from the crazy race he had started. He gave her a softer glance, talking as if she was a child.

“Don't worry, honey. Nobody got seriously injured, not even you, since I don't smell blood. Unfortunately, I know who hit us, they're not people you can have a civil conversation with. And trust me, calling the police is the last thing on their mind.”

“What? You know them? Are they your rivals or something? Are they with the Mob?”

She knew she was exaggerating but, even if she herself was a terrible driver, she still wanted traffic laws to be respected. Once the matter was clarified, she would have more than happily returned to the safety of her little apartment, leaving that whole crazy episode in the past.

“Trust me, we'll be at my hotel soon and it’ll be like nothing ever happened.”

“Yeah, sure!” she grumbled, rubbing her neck.

Maybe in an attempt to reassure her, Bill touched her right in that spot. Feeling his strong, warm hand over her body calmed her down more than she wanted to admit. His thumb moved over her collarbone, drawing such a relaxing movement that it almost made her sleepy.

“Don't be tense, we’ve already lost them, see? The worst is over. Does your beautiful neck feel better now?”

The pain was indeed gone and she only let out an incoherent murmur of pleasure, basking in the awareness of that first, precious compliment. Maybe he was right, the worst was over. She didn’t know those people, but he did and that could be a simple skirmish between business rivals. The night could still be saved and have in store for them the romantic turn she needed.

She lied down on the seat-back, trying to relax, and soon after they reached the entrance of the hotel. Instead of parking in front of it, Bill drove all the way to the underground parking entrance. He waited for the automatic barrier to lift, then faced many curves, down until floor sub three. He helped her to get out of the car, but kept looking around cautiously, until they reached the elevator. It was obvious he was nervous more than before and annoyingly absent. So much for the romantic night!

She cleared her throat. “Bill, I don't think it's a good idea to... hmm... go all the way. You know, my chest is hurting and I...”

“What do you mean? Let me see.”

He stretched his arm to touch her breastbone but right then, coming out of nowhere, two big black SUVs arrived, screeching their tires on the ground, and braked a few feet away from them. All the doors opened almost in sync with the elevator.

Astounded and, if possible, paler, Tom hastily pushed her inside the elevator and had just the time to shout: “Stay down!”, before countless bullets fell on them, on him, in particular, as if were raining.

Nailed to the wall by terror, she saw him sacrificing himself on the threshold to protect her, his arms open wide, while countless shots riddled his body. Some bullets managed to pass through the protection he was offering to her and smashed the big mirror inside the elevator, so Alice wrapped her arms around her chest and started shivering, crying and praying at the same time.

Those criminals out there were shooting with no mercy and, if Bill wasn’t already dead, he would have been soon. What would have happened to her then? Feeling close to fainting, she forced herself to react: she stretched her arm toward the highest number on the push-button panel and pushed it several times. The doors closed, making the last bullets bounce back on the outside.

Bill fell on his knees, in a large puddle of blood, his clothes so riddled they were just dangling shreds, and with a terrifying, deadly hole in the middle of his forehead.

Alice collapsed by his side and held his blood-soaked body, by now clearly lifeless.

“Bill! Bill, please, no!” she desperately cried, while his motionless arms fell heavy on the ground. “Bill, please, don't let go, don't give up! I... I'll call the ambulance! I'll do it, I swear! Just don’t give up!”

Holding his lifeless face against her chest, she tried to grab the mobile phone from her pocket. Her glasses were wet because of tears and, with an impatient movement, she took them off, throwing them on the floor. Yet, she couldn’t unlock the smartphone, because her hand was slippery. “Damn it! Not now!”

She cleaned it on her coat and tried again with no better luck. There was no signal anyway. Panicked, she looked at the bright buttons on the panel: as soon as she reached the roof, the phone would’ve worked and they would’ve been safe.

Shivering and weeping, she hugged Bill. She didn’t want to believe how cold he was. She didn’t want to see all his open wounds, these huge holes, all that pale flesh tore apart. The stinging, metallic whiff of blood turned her stomach, but the salty taste of her own tears kept her from throwing up. The elevator's doors opened and Alice was thankful for the crispy night air, which wiped out the already persistent smell of death.

She dragged Bill's body out and, when his feet were still inside, it occurred to her that it would have been better to block the elevator, not to let it go back down, so that, if the killers had still been in the parking lot, they would have had to climb fifteen floors using the stairs to reach them.

With growing grief and anxiety, she recovered the cellphone: still no signal. How the hell could that be? They were on top of a hotel, not in the middle of a desert!

She ran behind the elevator's turret, but it was walled-in. She ran more ahead, toward a construction, but it turned out it was an abandoned pigeon house. Alice kept on exploring the roof, even though she was blind as a bat: with no glasses on, her myopia was a remarkable handicap, however she had no time to waste.

After a few frenzied minutes, she had to give up: if there were stairs, she couldn’t see them and, if there weren’t, that meant that Bill didn’t stand a chance and was really gone.

A single, intense shiver shook her from head to toe and bile filled her mouth, while another heinous thought started to take shape. If Bill were dead, now it would be her time, as the only witness of the attack.

A weak idea snatched her out of complete paralysis. Frantic, she ran toward him and fell down by his side, painfully bruising her knees against the concrete. Her phone was an old model, but if Bill had a better, more powerful one, then she would still have hope of surviving that tragedy. She started going through his jacket, the exquisite tailor-made suit now only a soaked tatter, with its empty pockets.

Her heart was racing so much in her chest that she felt like she was going to collapse, but she didn’t give up: she had to fight, for herself and for him. Following an uncontrollable instinct, she gently touched his hair, moving it away from his dirty and sticky forehead. She looked into his glassy eyes, already lifeless, and apologized for what she was about to do. Then she took a deep breath and turned him on his side, to reach better one of his pants' pocket. Empty. She turned it inside out, hoping against the odds she could find a microscopic phone hidden in a corner, but no such luck. Her last chance was the other pocket. She pulled Bill to herself again and dug her hand in his pants. She touched something metallic and hope rekindled, but realized those were the car keys.

“No, no, no!” she yelled, throwing away the keys while sweeping her hands all over his arms, chest, legs and calves. There had to be a phone, there just had to be one!

It was all in vain. Devastated, she fell back onto him powerless, snuggling up as if he could still comfort her.

“Forgive me Bill. I hoped to save you but I didn't make it... I wasn't able to do it!” She buried her head in his neck and sank into despair.

“Well, what a shame... I liked your hands all over me, especially on my thighs.”

Still crying her heart out, Alice sat and looked around perplexed, not realizing who was speaking. Then she watched Bill stretching his arms over his head as if he had just woken up from a nap. She stood there, in silent awe, while the big hole in his forehead closed right before her eyes. Then, overwhelmed with emotions, she screamed frightfully and fainted by his side with the grace of a sack of potatoes.

She was cold. A stinging cold caused by the merciless wind that was hitting her skin, as if it was made of a hundred tiny, painful needles. She couldn’t sense the ground beneath her bare feet, but shivered for the freezing air on her face, her legs, everywhere. With great difficulty, her eyes opened a tiny slit, but the strong wind forced her to give up: she only had a glimpse of some lights far away and below her.