The ARC Chronicles Collection

Chapter 4

Brian Ross, a balding man with a barrel chest and a raptor’s gaze, stood in the hallway blocking her exit. In one hand, he held a well-worn hammer, gripped like a club. He grinned, but it was not a grin of amusement.

“Brian, what are you doing?” Eva searched her husband’s face, but it was as if there was nothing familiar between them. He recognized her, but his expression was one of someone who coveted a prize.

“I know what you are thinking,” he began, “and you aren’t going to do it. We have been together for too long for you to leave now.”

“Brian, what are you talking about? Leave? Why would I want to leave?”

Her answer confused him “I… I know you think you are better than I am. You always have all the answers. You are always right. I know you have been thinking about going. I see the cases packed.”

“Cases? What cases? Brian, you are making no sense.”

“I see the cases packed,” Brian insisted. “I won’t let you go.”

Years of experience told Eva there was something very wrong here. Her husband had always been jealous of her intellect, but she thought he had accepted her for what she was, and their differences were not a barrier to a relationship. He seemed to be coming unhinged, and she was alone in this boarded-up house with him. And he had a potential weapon in his hand.

“Brian, why don’t you put the hammer down, and we can talk. It’s clear something or someone has upset you.”

In response, he threw the hammer past her head, where it embedded itself in the wall. Now his hands were fists. “Yes, why don’t we do that?” His reply dripped sarcasm. “Why don’t I take a seat, and you can make a lovely cup of tea for us both while I wait.” He stalked off into the living room.

Eva took a deep breath and tried to remain calm. “I won’t be long.”

“Take all the time you want,” came the reply. “You aren’t going anywhere.”

Realizing her peril, Eva went straight to the rack of knives hanging from the kitchen wall. All gone. In fact, any implement that could be used as a weapon had been removed. There were only teaspoons left in the drawer. Trying to make as little noise as possible, Eva tried the door that led out the back of the house. It was bolted, and nails had been driven into the door through the door frame. Gently shaking the door, she found it would not budge.

“I told you that you are going nowhere,” came her husband’s voice from right behind her, and Eva jumped as he gripped her shoulder hard. “You won’t leave me again. Not now.”

“Brian… you are hurting me. Why are you doing this?”

“I came to the realization when I was talking to a customer at work,” he began. “You pity me. You think I’m pond scum. You always have. You leave in the morning, without even saying goodbye. I might as well just be another houseguest to you. You have been looking for a way out for years. Even before we got this place. Well, I don’t want to lose you and now I’m not going to.”

“And how is boarding the house up going to accomplish anything meaningful?”

Brian shoved her hard into the table, knocking the air form her lungs. “Well, you are in here aren’t you? You can’t get out, can you? Who’s not so clever now?”

There was a knock at the front door. Brian paused in his assault, pulled out a silver snub-nosed revolver and pointed it at her. With his free hand, he put his finger to his lips. “I am going to answer that, and you are not going to make a sound.”

Eva was trapped. She sat against the table, rubbing her forehead with one hand. Floorboards creaked as Brian moved down the hall to open the door. Eva dared not move. Brian’s anger could be ferocious and misdirected. She took slow breaths, trying to keep a rational mind.

In the hallway, Eva heard a young woman speaking to Brian. She edged closer, seeking to gain a glimpse of whoever it was. As she peered past the doorframe, things suddenly became very clear.

“Dan, you have to let me in. We have to talk.”

“I’m sorry, Jennifer. There are many alterations being made. It would be dangerous for you to come in here. Let me come out and we can go for a walk.”

“No, I don’t have time. Look Dan, I’m going to lay it out straight for you. I’m late.”

“Late for what?” The enormity of the statement hit Eva worse than the table had, but the words were lost on Brian, who was trying too hard to put on a false front.

“My period. I did a test and… well… see for yourself.” The young woman handed something to Brian, and as he reached out to take it, Eva could see ‘Jennifer’ was, in fact, Jenny. Eva covered her mouth with her hand, but could not prevent the tears coming. Her stomach contracted, and she thought she would vomit at any moment. She placed her other hand over her own womb. This girl had achieved something Eva thought was never going to happen in her own lifetime. Her grief blended with anger, and suddenly, Eva didn’t see a potential captor, not even a patient. She saw something she loathed.

Brian waved the pregnancy test around. “What is it? A thermometer?”

“Dan, it says I’m pregnant. Look, we need to talk about this. I have a job at the hospital. I am going to have to give this up if I don’t get rid of the baby.”

“No… No you won’t do that. Life is precious. Look, go on over to Chuck’s, the cafe on Vineland, and I’ll meet you there in about ten minutes. There’s something I have to take care of first.”

The way Brian said ‘something’ sounded like ‘someone’ to Eva. She moved back to the kitchen table, her fury consuming her.

Brian came back in, the effort of his facade still showing on his face. “So you heard all that, I guess?”

Eva was so mad; she had trouble forming the words. “Yes, Dan. Everything is clear now. I can see why Jenny wants to leave. I can see why you want me boarded up in here. I can see I should never have trusted you after the last time you had an affair.”

DanThe warning signs had all been there. Her husband was cracking up, but Eva was too mad to care. Whereas the affairs had been meaningless and forgivable in the past, now she saw them in a different light. Before, he might have been endearing, now he disgusted her.

In response, Brian picked up a potted plant, and smashed it against the wall, obliterating it and showering the floor with dirt. He wasn’t ready to assault her directly, yet. “This is all your fault,” he shouted.

“Really? How so?”

Brian stalked round the kitchen, pointing at her. “You pushed me away. For years, you have. No loving, no comfort. Always your smug superior glances. The s*x was always bad.”

“What s*x?”

“Exactly!” The roar stopped her in her tracks. “I am a man. What do you expect me to do? Sit around and wait for you to be in the mood? I have needs, too!”

“Clearly,” Eva observed. “Brian, you have to understand we are in a relationship. There is more to a long-term relationship than just having s*x. There is commitment, for one.”

“Don’t you start to analyse me, woman. I am not one of your patients. I have had affairs, more than you ever knew about. I never stopped.”

He wasn’t listening, and any remaining sympathy was rapidly draining out of her. “And now you have got exactly what you wanted. A child on the way. Responsibility.”

“And I have you to care for it, to bring up my child as the mother you should have been. Get used to these boarded windows, Eva. You aren’t going anywhere.” Brian pulled out his gun and pointed it in her direction, his arm steady. “If you even think about breaking out, I will use this to make sure you can never leave. We have both watched ‘Misery’.”

“You won’t have any child as soon as Jenny’s parents find out she is pregnant,” Eva taunted. “You had best go get your prize, if you intend to keep her.”

The comment appeared to disrupt any thoughts Brian was having of torture, and his arm wavered. He looked towards the front door. “You wait there. Right there. If I hear any creaking floorboards as I leave, you can bet the first thing I do when I return is make good on that promise.” Brian backed out of the room, hungry eyes watching her the whole time.

Eva remained still, although inside she was seething and terrified. It was best not to give him any excuse to stay. The door slammed and the locks clicked as Brian bolted her prison. Eva counted to sixty, praying his attention span only left him waiting outside that long, and crept to the window.

Brian was halfway down the street, with the occasional glance back. There was no way he could see her moving now.

Not waiting a moment longer, Eva dashed upstairs to the room she had shared with her husband, threw open the cupboards and drawers, and began to stuff clothing into a suitcase.

Being of fastidious nature, Eva had all of her clothes sorted and organised. It did not take long. Throwing toiletries on top, Eva paused as she looked at a small statuette Brian had given her on their first wedding anniversary. Tempted to keep it as a memento of better times, Eva remembered what she was doing and why, picked up the statuette and pocketed it. Money would not be a problem. She was the main breadwinner and they had no joint accounts, a fact that had riled her husband immensely over the years. A picture of her parents and her as a child topped the bag off and she was done.

Eva began by trying the slats nailed in their bedroom. She had to give Brian his due; the nails were embedded deep in the frame, driven there with force derived from rage. Her husband was becoming a very dangerous creature. Bag on shoulder, Eva worked her way methodically around the house, aware Brian could return at any moment. Everything was firm, on the ground level, too.

Flummoxed, Eva rested against the heavy front door. Then a thought hit her. “He was in the basement,” she said to the empty house. Not wasting a second, Eva charged down the hall and prayed as she tried the door to the basement. It was unlocked. Heart hammering in her chest, Eva flicked on the lights and descended.

The basement was a scene of chaos. Everything Brian had taken from her was down here. Normally this room was Brian’s domain, his man cave, and showed evidence of his habitation. Beer cans lined one wall. Unmarked DVD’s, the contents of which Eva shuddered to consider, surrounded the television and video. Cutlery was strewn on the floor, and the doors up the steps to the garden… were secured by only one fastened wooden plank.

Excitement overcame fear. Eva pulled out the statuette, using it to work the nails loose. It was an onerous task, and the nails were reluctant to give up their hold on the doors. Eva persisted, and was rewarded when one end of the plank worked loose. Reinvigorated, Eva jammed the head of the statuette under the wood and heaved.

The wood sprang free, and the statuette flew from her hand, smashing the screen of the television. Not waiting to enjoy the triumph, Eva pushed one of the doors open with great care, hoping Brian hadn’t returned.

All was silent outside. The sky had greyed somewhat as afternoon approached evening. This only served to make the atmosphere more oppressive. He could be anywhere. Eva closed the door for the sake of appearances, and set off through the woods at the back of her garden. The coverage was good, but Eva stuck to the shadows nonetheless. Not wasting time on hiding her tracks or doubling back, Eva headed straight through into the garden of the house beyond the woods.

At the road, she stopped and looked left. The cafe was down this road. Eva wanted to see if Brian was still there. A shout in the distance made her jump, and Eva ran across and into the garden opposite, unmindful of the occupants.

Two more gardens and Eva found herself almost on Plantation Street. Brian wouldn’t catch her now. Eva paused and tried to gather her thoughts. Her phone buzzed; it was a message from Gideon. Her first thought was to call him, and escape this situation, but his recent behaviour impeded on her thoughts. Eva wasn’t ready to talk to Gideon just yet.

A bus pulled up, and Eva realised she stood at a bus stop. Confused at her lack of movement, the driver leaned over and called, “You gettin’ on, Lady? I gotta schedule ta keep!”

Eva glanced both ways down Plantation Street, fearful her husband may yet approach. “Where does this bus go?”

“It’s the number fifteen, lady. Straight to the city center and bus depot.”

Eva handed the driver a ten-dollar bill and refused the change. “Keep it,” she said. “Buy a beer after your shift.”

Sitting down about halfway along the bus, Eva clutched her bag on her lap, and, bent over, started to cry. Brian’s betrayal racked her body to the very core. The bus turned down Vineland Street, and Eva forced herself to watch. The cafe flashed past. It was empty. Her stomach tightened and her legs tensed.

“He wasn’t there,” Eva concluded, causing a couple of old ladies further down the bus to perk up and turn around. “He knows.”