Precipice: The Beginning (13 page)

27

G
retchen Laboo thought she looked damn good in her new running shorts. Showed off her ass something fierce. Four months ago and she would have never worn anything so revealing, but she’d been working hard. Not a diet, because those things never worked. She’d be ten weeks into one and then eat a candy bar, something with chocolate for sure, and then it was over. There was no going back once she hit that first mistake. Those days were all over since her discovery of the channel four infomercials at three in the morning. A jittery old woman that looked incredible despite her age. Gretchen had watched with much interest, learning the secrets of juicing everything while eating many little snacks a day instead of three large meals. It worked because it wasn’t a diet but a way of life. And she needed a change of life big time. No longer would she spend another New Year’s Eve alone or another birthday come and gone without a special someone to take her to dinner. A change of lifestyle brought a change of clothes. A sexy new change in style brought her the attention of Randall Holiday, the coworker she’d had her eyes on for the past three years.

Here he came, walking toward her in his tight shorts and tank top with a large umbrella held over his head sporting their company’s logo on the top. Lately their law firm had been giving them the cheapest gifts. He smiled and waved as he saw her, making Gretchen’s heart flutter. This was the man of her dreams. Three years of being the chubby friend, the funny girl that everyone loved to have around but didn’t want, was now about to change. She used to get all giggly when he’d sit next to her at one of their company’s monthly potlucks, but he was here on his own time.

“I was hoping you weren’t going to cancel on me due to the rain,” Randall said.

“Oh please. If I canceled because of the rain I’d never be able to exercise.”

“Well let’s get a move on.” Randall looked up to the clouds. “What the hell is up with this weather anyway?”

“God has a lot of tears,” Gretchen laughed, her voice uneven from the jogging.

Gretchen leapt over a deep puddle and slipped, giggling like a schoolgirl as Randall took hold of her arm to steady her balance. She picked up her pace and stayed close to him, using his umbrella as the perfect excuse for their proximity. His cologne smelt so wonderful. Strong and masculine, but not overbearing. It may have been pouring like a son of a bitch, but in her lovesick mind, Gretchen saw them running down a flower-lined path with the sun shining. That was until she slipped and fell, skinning her knee on the pavement.

“Are you okay?” Randall took a knee, puddle be damned. He took hold of her hand and helped her up again. “Maybe we should go in and have some coffee or something. I think it’s too wet out here.”

Gretchen looked about Central Park and took notice for perhaps the first time. Her mind had been so distracted with sexual fantasies of her and Randall in the back row of a movie theater that she hadn’t seen the extent of the rainfall. Deep puddles stood on the borderline of being called ponds. The few people running through the park were actually heading to someplace else, rushing by with an umbrella or briefcases held overhead. As if a small square held over their body was going to do them any good across a massive park like this. She laughed at how old-fashioned they looked, but the laughter faded as a thought occurred to her. She hadn’t seen a day without rain in quite some time. How long had it been? Three days of continuous rainfall? Maybe four? All her exercising had been done in the living room with her shades drawn and the music blasting, so other than her hour long commute to work she hadn’t been too concerned with the bad weather.

“Did you feel that?” Randall skidded to a stop, smacking Gretchen in the forehead with a point from his umbrella. He held still a moment, holding out his hands as if for balance.

Gretchen held her breath, wondering what he was talking about. “I don’t –” Gretchen stopped as the ground beneath them shook. Just a slight rumble. As if a large truck were driving through the center of the park. “Maybe it’s an underground pipe rupture or something?”

“Well whatever it is, I don’t want to be here when it breaks through.”

As if challenging Randall’s request, the ground beneath then let out a large ripple. Earth was moving like a wave across central park. Both Randall and Gretchen had been knocked onto their asses. The cement path beneath them cracked and crumbled, rising and falling. As if the earth’s crust was a sheet stretched over a waterbed and children were jumping on it. Trees began to bend and sway, their branches whipping back and forth. Gretchen hitched in a breath as a homeless man running for cover was decapitated by the violently flailing branch of a nearby tree. Her stunned wonder might have lasted longer if not for the tree nearest them snapping in half and crashing down a few feet from where they stood.

“We have to get out of here,” Randall yelled, jumping to his feet while reaching for Gretchen’s hand. He pulled her to her feet and took off running.

Their casual jog turned into an Olympic event. Instead of jumping hurdles, they hopped from one flat spot to the next to avoid the cracks forming beneath them. Gretchen looked behind her and screamed, her mind unable to process the sheer reality of it. The ground was collapsing in on itself, following them and gaining speed. Gretchen ran full out, moving until her thighs burned and her stomach began to cramp. In the back of her mind, buried beneath so much confusion and fear, she found a peculiar thought. She wondered if this was maybe some kind of practical joke. A modern version of War of the Worlds? The homeless man had been some kind of mechanical stunt; his head made of paper mache and his blood nothing but corn syrup. They’d look so foolish in the interviews afterward, telling everyone at home how they thought it was so real and they would never go to the park again. Offer the good folks in the studio audience a wink. But that thought was squashed by an avalanche of the here and now. No little prank or mental creation could be this real. The ground was bubbling up beneath their feet. She couldn’t overpower the urge to look back at the traveling crack. It didn’t make sense. All the energy in her legs gave out, fading to fumes. All that hard work, changing her lifestyle and finally wearing something that is supposed to show off her new and improved body, and now there was this big fucking crack!

“You can’t stop now!” Randall took hold of her hand and pulled her along.

Their footing became lost as the ground beneath them opened like a savage mouth and swallowed them whole. All they could do was grab onto each other as they fell into the darkness. Had this not been her final few seconds in this world, Gretchen would have been so very pleased to be in Randall’s arms.

28

T
his was the most horrific thing Annie had ever witnessed. She herself had been to Central Park back in college. A few of her girlfriends had dragged her up there to meet some guys. It had been so beautiful and awe-inspiring. So odd to see something so lush and peaceful smack dab in such a busy city. Now this? Something you’d expect to see in some third world country recovering from the aftermath of an earthquake or a volcanic disaster. An aging celebrity walking the city streets to tell you how your change could save their lives. You weep and your heart truly aches, but then you remember your favorite show’s on at eight. But New York didn’t fall into that category. Those aging actors from those depressing commercials called the city their home. It was right out of a movie, completely unreal. But this was straight from the local news station.

“What you’re seeing is the channel five news helicopter flying over what used to be Central Park.” Alexander Gunn, channel five correspondent spoke slowly, his voice breaking up from the bad connection. “There’s no telling how deep the trench is or if it will continue to spread through the city. As of right now, we do not have an accurate report of casualties.”

“This is unreal.” Annie shook her head, speaking to herself without hearing the words.

“We will now go live to President Noll’s address.”

The screen shifted from the white and panicked face of the anchorman to the calm and political mug of the president. He stood proud and confident in his expensive black suit, his face stern. This was a well-rehearsed look. Telling the American people to not only believe his words, but to love them.

“My fellow Americans. As of eight o’clock this morning, I have issued an order to have the FAA halt all air travel until such atmospheric events can be explained and resolved. The tragedy of Blue Skies flight 213, Montana Airways flight 112 and Pacific Sea flight 528 will not be repeated. In response to the earthquakes that continue to rattle the United States as well as the planet, I can only stress that we’re doing everything in our power to discover the root of this global phenomenon.” President Noll took a moment to collect himself, looking very concerned. “Earlier today, New York City, Detroit, New Orleans, and Seattle were devastated by, what we have thus determined to be, a shift in the Earth’s crust.”

“Bullshit!” Annie turned off the wall screen and threw the remote, hitting the wall with a dull thud.

“That’s a bad word,” Logan informed her, signaling to the world that he’d awoken from his nap.

“You are correct and I apologize.” Annie gave him a hug as he sat beside her on the couch. She jumped at the unmistakable pop of gunfire, faint but too damn close for her comfort.

“What was that?” Logan could sense his mother’s tension. His little heart raced at the sight of her discomfort.

“Probably just a firework, pook –” Annie nearly fell off the couch as someone knocked on the door, hard and with urgency. Annie took a long and slow breath, pressing her hand to her chest as if to pin her heart in place. “Who is it?” Annie gripped the small bulk of metal from the lockbox and stashed it in her pocket; the PM40 Travis had gotten her when she was doing some night classes so many years ago. It held five bullets in the clip and did the job, but it still looked so pitiful in the palm of her hand. “Who is it?” Annie asked a few feet from the door.

“It’s Erica.” Her voice was trembling.

Annie hurried to the door and undid the locks, pulling it open to a woman in fear. Erica and her seven-year-old daughter, Abby, were standing on the porch. Annie barely had time to step aside as they rushed in and slammed the door shut behind them.

“What is it?” Annie grabbed Erica by the shoulders, pulling her from the door. Erica’s flesh had gone cold and clammy. “Abby dear, please sit next to Logie on the couch. Your mommy and I are just going to the other room here.”

“I want her in my sight!” Erica nearly shouted. Her head twitched back and forth as if she were possessed.

“Okay, that’s fine. Let’s just stand in the kitchen so she can see you and you can see her. But let’s please remain calm for their sake.” Annie leaned in close and said this last bit for only Erica to hear. Without waiting for an answer she put an arm about Erica’s shoulders and pulled her into the kitchen.

“Is your front door wood or steel?” Erica looked back over her shoulder, not wanting to lose sight of Abby.

“It’s wood.” Annie looked to Erica with a furrowed brow. “Kept you out didn’t it?” She always thought humor was a great way to ease someone’s tension and fear. But it didn’t work in this case. Erica remained on edge, overly anxious. “What is going on?”

“Someone broke into our house.” Erica could barely finish the last word. Her lips trembled so bad they’d gone numb. All strength had run out of her and she collapsed to the floor, sliding down to rest against the center island. Such a proud woman, she was now shaking and fragile.

“Calm down. It’s okay now.” Annie peeked over to the children and saw they were watching television. Poor Abby looked as if she were in shock. Her face void of expression. Annie got onto her knees and took hold of Erica’s hands, rubbing them compassionately to get some warmth back into her flesh. “Just tell me exactly what happened.”

Erica took a deep breath, held it five seconds and released with a loud sigh. “Abby and I were up in her room, going through some of her old clothes to donate them. I heard glass breaking from the living room. So I went into my closet and got the gun.” Erica took a moment to collect herself. “I crept downstairs and saw the man’s shadow. Before I could even think of what to do, he turned and bolted toward me. I…I shot him in the throat.” Erica’s eyes went glossy. She looked passed Annie and no longer saw the kitchen. “He fell to the ground and lay there gasping, clawing at the air. Then he just looked at me.” Erica hitched in a breath and looked to Annie, grabbing her by the shoulders. “He looked into my eyes as he died.”

“Did you call the police?”

“There was no one there.” Erica knew she had to explain. “I called, but the number was busy.”

“That’s bullshit. They’re the police for Christ sake.” Annie was angry. She hopped to her feet and grabbed the phone off the counter, quickly dialing the easiest number anyone could know. Her face changed, angry scowl stretching into wide-eyed confusion. “There’s only an automated voice.” Annie hung up the phone.

“All circuits are busy. Please remain on the line or try your call at a later time,” Erica mocked, shaking her head from side to side as she cried. “Who do you call when you can’t call the police?”

“Are you sure the man’s dead?”

Erica nodded. The lifeless look in his eyes as he lay there, staring up at her, would never leave her mind. She’d gone to the gun range with her husband dozens of times, but they didn’t supply you with living targets. This had been her only kill.

“Okay, well there’s no rush for medical aid then, so let’s slow things down and collect our heads.” Annie rubbed her chin to try and kindle some thoughts. “First, you and Abby need some towels and dry clothes. We can throw your sweater and pants in the dryer. Second, I want you both to stay here with me until we can get someone on the phone. Unless you have somewhere else you want to be? Your sister’s?”

“My car’s having work done. Timing belt is being replaced.”

“Mine is still out from the accident.” Annie shivered as she thought back to hydroplaning off the road. “So I guess the best thing for us to do is to just sit tight and wait.”

The lights flickered, fading in and out until they died to darkness.

“Calm down!” Annie yelled, wanting her voice to carry over the children’s nervous cries and Erica’s rapid breathing.

“Oh my God! He’s coming to get us.” Erica was on the verge of hyperventilating.

Annie called out with her hands held up above her head, speaking in her best mommy voice. “Everyone, calm down. It’s only the power knocked out from the storm. That’s all it is.” Annie was firm, whispering down to Erica, “calm down and keep it together for Abby’s sake.”

Annie moved slowly, walking with her arms outreached before her. She ran her fingers along the kitchen counter, knocking over the dirty glass left out
w
ith a sigh of annoyance. The cold brass handle of the junk draw was such a relief. Now she wished she’d actually followed through with one of her numerous to do lists. In this case, the drawer was overflowing with crap; coupons, empty sandwich bag cartons, plastic straws and a large amount of unknown miscellaneous. The small lighter felt so good in her hand. The little thing she knew to be there but thought she’d never find. Annie lit the candles she kept along the counter, carrying a raspberry one into the living room. The children flocked to the flames light like moths, making darn sure to stay within the small circle of light.

“Where’s your gun?” Annie knelt beside Erica, handing her a small candle.

“I think I dropped it on the floor by the stairs.” Erica shook her head. “I don’t really know for sure.”

Annie nodded, not wanting to do what she knew had to be done. “I need you to sit on the couch with the kids and watch the door.”

“Where are you going?” Erica raised her voice.

“To get that gun. We might need it and I only have six more bullets upstairs.” Annie tapped the lump in her pocket as if Erica knew what was tucked away. “Plus Abby is going to need some clothes and something to play with. To keep her mind preoccupied. Now, do you need anything from your house?”

“Please don’t leave us.” Erica sounded like a frightened child.

“I have to. But is there anything else?”

Erica shook her head. Annie reached out and helped Erica to her feet. She handed her a dishtowel and told her to wipe her eyes before leading her back to the couch, nestling between the two children. Annie got on her knees and took hold of Logan and Abby’s hands. They felt so small and warm, making her smile.

“I have to run next door for just a moment, so please just stay right here. The power is out and I don’t want anyone wandering around. You might get lost or eaten by the laundry monster.” Annie tickled their stomach as she laughed. The children both giggled and squirmed beneath her attacking fingers, lightening the atmosphere considerably.

“What if I have to go potty?” Logan asked.

“Just hold it ‘til I come back. Deal?” Annie held out her hand, winking at her son as he shook it. “Don’t open this door unless you hear me say this exactly: It’s Annie from this house. Got it?”

Erica nodded slowly, taking slower breaths as she felt calmer. Annie was happy to see the mood shift from frantic panic to a scared house. No different than if they’d just watched a horror movie. Annie crept to the door and unlocked the deadbolt, but she kept the chain latched. She peeked out into the darkness and squinted through the rain to the house across the street. No power on the whole block. Once she’d confirmed it hadn’t been just her house, she unlatched the door and shut it behind her. The locks clanked and turned the instant the door was shut. Annie just nodded.

The story Erica had told her was now starting to sink in, hitting home more and more with each shaky step. The rain was coming down so fast there didn’t seem to be a break in between drops. Like walking under a waterfall. She was soaked through before she even reached the sidewalk. But it didn’t bother her. Barely even registered through the unbelievable tale her neighbor had delivered. One of the reasons she’d purchased this home was because of the low crime rate; basic breaking and entering, some domestic stuff, but never anything as odd as what Erica had told her. Had she suffered some kind of lonely woman snap? Was her son now in the hands of someone completely unstable? Well she hadn’t made up the part about calling 9-1-1. Something bigger than a nut job breaking into her home was going on here.

“You moron!” Annie called herself, agitated she hadn’t brought a flashlight.

Thankful she hadn’t been a complete idiot; she pulled the lighter from her pocket and produced a flame. She cupped her face to the glass window beside the door and peeked in to Erica’s front room, vaguely making out the shape of the man lying before the stairs. Annie stepped back onto the porch and tried the knob, turning easily beneath her grip. The ever spreading pool of blood circling the man’s head was confirmation enough this prick was dead. No need to bend down and place her hand to that creep’s wrist or neck. Oddly enough, he didn’t look like the type to break into someone’s home. He was clean-shaven, wore designer jeans and new white sneakers. His wedding ring had evenly spaced diamonds around the entire band. He smelled of expensive cologne and had a nice watch. Annie searched the man and the surrounding areas for a weapon, spying Erica’s guns. But that was it. This man had broken into her house unarmed and dressed in normal street clothes, nothing worn about his face to try and hide his identity. It wasn’t sitting right with her. It looked as if he might have been running from something or needed something. Maybe asking for help?

Annie picked up the discarded weapon and tucked it into her pocket. She stepped over the man and hurried up the stairs. First place she went was the top of the closet, searching for the lockbox. But it wasn’t there. Annie turned and stepped into the room, looking in the dim glow of the lighter’s flame. There was something out of place on the bed, a dark lump in the blackness. Annie saw the box sitting wide open with the spare bullets inside. Erica had been so frazzled and rushed she hadn’t thought to put it back, let alone pick up the gun she’d left laying beside the dead man in her home. The normal Erica would have never been so careless. Not with Abby. The only thing she had left in this world, the living part of her husband that could go on. Annie pulled both handguns from her pockets and set them inside the box with the additional ammo, tucking the box under her arm. She went to the closet and filled a laundry basket with some clothes, tucking the box in the center to keep it hidden from the kids. She went to Abby’s room and looked for anything that might be precious to her. A few stuffed animals from the bed, a wooden puzzle and some toys. Whatever clothes she could pull from the dresser.