Night Terrors (31 page)

He stood up, wanting to bolt right to Lorie as soon as he was free.

He had to hurry.

But as soon as he stood up he realized he’d made a mistake. And that’s when the key slipped out of the fingers of his left hand.

He heard the key hit the concrete and bounce away.

Oh God no.

Jeremy stood at the other side of the table watching Tara. His robe was open, revealing the grotesque corset of human skin that he wore.

Greg’s skin,
Tara thought.
Greg’s skin on his body. And Jen’s blood and Miss Helen’s brother’s ashes in this bowl in front of me.

Jeremy still hadn’t put on his gory mask yet, he left it sitting there in the chair beside him. He didn’t seem to be in a hurry.

But Tara knew that Lorie couldn’t hold on to the post forever. How much longer? she wondered. And her Aunt Katie, what torturous position was she trussed up in? Was she holding on for dear life somewhere else on this property? Was she slowly running out of air? Out of blood?

Jeremy picked up Woods’ gun from his side of the table and aimed it at her.

“You don’t need to be afraid, Tara. Like I told you before, you’re not going to die. You’re going to live inside of me. You’re going to live through me. We’ll be one person, one entity. That’s the way it was supposed to be, the way it was always supposed to be. I could tie you down to the table, but I’ve decided that I want you to come willingly to me. I want you to give yourself to me.”

Tara couldn’t wait any longer. And even though Jeremy had Woods’ gun aimed at her, she reached behind her and pulled out the squeeze-bottle from underneath her shirt. She tore off the plastic lid and aimed it at Jeremy, ready to squeeze the bottle and shoot the liquid at him.

Jeremy didn’t move. He stood very still with Woods’ gun pointed at her, a smile on his face, amusement in his dark eyes.

“Holy water?” he asked. “Really, Tara. You think holy water is going to work on someone as powerful as me?”

Woods turned his body around the post and searched the concrete floor with his eyes for the handcuff key. How far had it bounced away? Would he be able to reach it?

Behind him he heard Lorie moan in despair like her last hope had evaporated before her eyes, like all of her strength and willpower had expelled from her body with that moan.

He saw the key. It wasn’t too far away. He kicked off his other shoe and reached his right foot out for the key. He could barely reach it with his big toe, but he didn’t want to push it away, out of reach any farther. He strained his body as much as he could, his arms straining – it felt like his shoulders were going to pop out of their sockets and his right wrist was going to snap in half. The fingers on his right hand were almost completely numb now.

“I got it, Lorie,” Woods said in between panting breaths. “I’ve got the key. I’m going to get us out of here. Just hold on a few more seconds.”

“I … can’t …”

“Yes you can!” Woods snapped at her. He didn’t want to take any extra seconds to look at her. He needed to focus all of his concentration into lifting his foot up very carefully and laying his big toe down onto the key, and then dragging the key back towards him.

He had to be careful. So careful.

He dragged the key back with his foot very slowly. He’d lost the key once, he couldn’t lose it again – Lorie didn’t have much time left. And Tara didn’t, either. He took a deep breath and reached his foot out again and pulled the key back closer to him, listening to the small sound of it scraping gently across the concrete. And the closer he got the key to him, the less he had to stretch his body out and he felt the tension ease in his shoulders, elbows, and wrists.

He had the key in front of him now, right underneath his socked foot. He turned around on the post again and slid down to his butt. He picked up the key in his fingers that were becoming more and more numb by the second. He knew he didn’t have too many more chances until his fingers became useless stumps at the ends of his wrists.

He grasped the key in the fingers of his left hand and guided it slowly to the keyhole on the right cuff. He wanted to hurry, but he couldn’t drop this key again. This time he didn’t stand up. He sat down and stretched his legs out in front of him and leaned his back against the post. He took deep breaths and he tried not to think about Tara inside the house, or Lorie moaning from the other pole, crying that she couldn’t hold on anymore.

The only thing he concentrated on was getting that key into the right cuff.

He felt the key enter the hole and he twisted. For a split second he thought the cuff hadn’t opened, that it had somehow jammed. But then he could feel the blood rushing back into his right hand like a thousand ants dancing under his skin.

And he was free.

He pulled his arms out in front of him and he saw the deep red line around his right wrist. He shook his hand, trying to get the blood back into his fingers and he unlocked the other cuff and let the handcuffs fall to the floor. He stood up on shaky legs and shoved his feet back into his shoes, and then he hurried over to Lorie.

“Hold on, Lorie,” he told her. “I’m going to move the knives out from underneath Mike.”

Lorie nodded as tears flowed from her eyes. “Please … hurry …”

Woods sprinted across the garage and grabbed the edge of the thick square of wood. It was heavier than he expected, but the adrenaline was really kicking in now. He felt the blood and energy surging through his body now. He was going to save Lorie and Mike.

But what about Tara?

Was she still alive?

Could he get to her in time?

For a moment, Woods considered running to the house for Tara, but he couldn’t let Mike die. He couldn’t let Lorie watch her boyfriend plunge face-first down into the knife blades as she was hoisted up into the air from his body weight, swinging back and forth helplessly, screaming as she watched Mike bleed out, his neck snapped in half.

Mike was still unconscious; his face and neck were very red. Woods pulled the panel of wood far enough out of the way and it had let out a squeal as he moved it, a loud screech that filled the air.

Could Jeremy hear that from inside the house?

But he didn’t have time to think about that right now.

He rushed back to Mike and grabbed his shoulders, making sure he had a good hold on him. He looked over at Lorie. He was as ready as he was ever going to be. “Lorie,” he told her, “you have to let go of the pole now.”

Lorie hesitated.

“I’ve got Mike. I’m going to lower him down as soon as you let go. He’ll be okay, I promise. You’ll be okay.”

Again Lorie hesitated, but her arms and legs were loosening.

Loosening more and then …

… she flew back from the post, lifting up into the air as Mike’s body came crashing down onto Woods. He came down faster than Woods had expected, and he was heavier than he looked. But Woods saved Mike from crashing head-first down into the concrete.

Mike’s body was crumpled up on the floor, and Lorie was hanging in the air from her waist. The lengths of rope cut into her waist, choking off her breathing. She clawed at the ropes around her mid-section, but they were too tight.

Woods pulled Mike’s legs down more, hoisting Lorie up a few more feet. He could hear her gurgling, struggling for breath.

Woods’ fingers were tingling terribly now, but at least he had more control of them. He worked the knots loose from Mike’s ankles and almost let the rope slip through his hands as it came loose from Mike. But he caught it in time, holding Lorie there, and then he lowered her to the ground.

He glanced at the open garage door. He wanted to bolt to the house. But he had to get the rope off of Lorie’s waist. It had tightened so quickly and so much that it was cutting into her shirt, folded into her skin.

But she was breathing easier now.

“After I get this untied,” he told her, “I want you to get my phone. Put the battery back in and call the police.”

Tara squeezed the plastic bottle and the clear liquid shot across the table and drenched Jeremy as he held Woods’ gun aimed at her.

“I’m too powerful for holy water,” Jeremy told her. “I’m way past that now. I’m too powerful for your gods and talismans.”

But Tara wasn’t listening. She made sure she squeezed out as much of the liquid as she could from the bottle.

Jeremy smiled in triumph. “And once my transformation is complete, I’ll be a god, a demon, a …”

Jeremy stopped like something terrible had just occurred to him. He sniffed at the air.

“It’s not holy water,” Tara told him. “I had Woods buy two squeeze-bottles, and he switched them. This one has lighter fluid in it.”

Jeremy’s eyes grew wide and he shook his head no in disbelief.

“This is all wrong,” he whispered.

He aimed the gun at her and squeezed the trigger.

Detective Perry sped north towards Trinity. He had his lights on and a siren wailing, but cars and trucks were slow to get out of his way.

Jackson called and told him that a squad car was being sent out to check on Mike’s house, and that a Sheriff would also be on his way out, too. Perry asked Jackson to get more police out there, whatever he had to tell them, even if it was a lie.

There wasn’t much time, and Perry felt that he was going to be too late.

Aunt Katie was in a room off of the living room, it was going to be Mike’s office eventually but it wasn’t quite fully furnished yet because he’d only been moved in for a week now. But there was a computer desk with a laptop on it and an office chair on wheels.

Katie stood on top of the office chair, her hands tied behind her back and a noose tied tightly around her neck, almost cutting off her breathing, but not quite. The rope went from the noose around her neck up to the ceiling where Jeremy had pulled the drywall away to reveal a joist where he had tied the rope. She had to stand very still on the office chair because it not only rolled on wheels, but it also swiveled very easily. One slight turn and she would lose her balance and the chair would roll away from her and she would hang from this ceiling until she died.

Jeremy had stuffed a rag down into her mouth and pasted strips of duct tape over her mouth. The gag was making it even harder for her to breathe along with the noose around her neck, but she held on, and she tried to keep herself calm.

But then she wondered what Jeremy would do to her. Would he skin her alive, cut her up in small pieces, roast parts of her body with a blow torch? Maybe strangling to death would be better. Maybe she should just move the chair a little. It would be quick.

It would be better.

Jeremy squeezed the trigger of Woods’ gun again.

And again.

Click.

Click.

Tara smiled at him. “I had Woods take the bullets out.”

The horror on Jeremy’s face thrilled Tara. He stood there for a moment in utter shock. For once
he
was a step behind.

“You didn’t see that, did you?” she said.

But Tara couldn’t waste another second.

She leaned back in her chair and kicked the edge of the table as hard as she could with both feet, using all of the strength and skill she’d learned in the karate classes through the years.

The table slammed into Jeremy’s thighs and knocked him backwards into the corner where the flames from the candles caught his robe on fire, the fabric went up with a whoosh of flame.

“You want to be a demon so bad?!” Tara screamed at him. “Here’s your first taste of Hell!”

Jeremy tried to pat out the flames, but in seconds he was engulfed by the fire – a human inferno. He slammed into the walls, trying to run, trying to get away from the fire, but he only crumpled to the floor screaming over and over again.

Like his victims had screamed,
Tara thought.

Woods ran from the garage to the house. He bounded up the stairs to the wraparound porch and ran down to a sliding glass door. He saw the fire inside. He saw someone burning on the floor. Part of the wall was on fire. He tried the sliding glass door, but it was locked. He beat on the glass.

And then he saw Tara.

Woods hurried around the deck to the open door and rushed through the kitchen. He heard Jeremy screaming from the dining room.

“I have to find my aunt,” Tara told him. “She’s in here somewhere!”

“I’ll check upstairs,” Woods told her. “You check the other rooms down here.”

Katie had been about to step off the chair, but at the last second she heard voices from somewhere else in the house. And one of them sounded like Tara. Hope sprung in her chest and she tried to be as still as possible, but her legs were shaking so badly now.

She heard Tara shouting at someone – at Jeremy?

Oh God, please …

And then she heard screaming, but it didn’t sound like a woman’s scream, it sounded like a man’s scream.

She dared to hope.

And then she began screaming into her gag as loudly as she could.

Tara was in the living room when she heard the moaning coming from the next room. Even over the sound of flames and Jeremy’s dying screams, she’d heard the moan.

And she felt that her aunt was very near.

The next room.

Tara bolted across the barely furnished living room to a closed door. She burst through the door and froze for a split second. She saw her aunt standing on top of a wheeled office chair on a wood floor, her hands tied behind her back, tape over her mouth, her eyes wide and red with fear. A rope was strung from her neck and tied to the rafters through the hole in the ceiling.

“Hold on,” Tara said. She grabbed her aunt’s legs, trying to keep her still, trying to keep the chair from moving, but she couldn’t hold on to her and get the rope off of her neck and wrists at the same time. Her aunt’s legs were shaking too badly and she was afraid to let them go. Tara looked up at her aunt who stared down at her and she saw the relief in her eyes.