Kindle Edition
Amazon
Category:
Action/Thriller
Publisher: Amazon/Kindle
Type: Fiction
Pages: 200
Copyright: Nov, 19, 2013
Price: $3.99 (eBook)
After a woman crashes her car in a remote area she becomes the prey of something that has come for her.
When Marjorie crashes her car in a remote wooded area she unknowingly disturbs a natural order. A young would be rescuer informs her “Something comes for everything.” Has the young man with the cold black eyes “come” for her? And will she live to regret their meeting?
Excerpt
DAY 1
There was that sound again. That sound which had eventually brought her out of the deep recesses of herself. She’d heard it long before she was able to assign any meaning to it. Unsure at first whether it was real or simply a dream she was having difficulty waking from. It was nothing more than a sound on the edge of her consciousness for what seemed like forever.
That chirping over and over; monotonous in its perpetual tone and melodic rhythm. It had wedged into her mind, embedded itself within her very core. For a time nothing else existed beyond the sound; there was only the chirping. When it went away she went away as well. She clung to it, somehow sensing that it was her salvation, a way back to the light, her way out of the dark place.
And when at long last her pale blue eyes had flickered open slowly and then eventually focused. It was the darkness of night which welcomed her back to the other side. The chirping was there as well; strong and steady the crickets sang. It was their singing which had coaxed her back from the nowhere place.
She knew the sound well. It was as familiar as an old teddy bear. It was that familiarity which had guided her gently out of her black, insentient state of being. Now as she tried hard to push away the grogginess she was experiencing since her eyes had opened she took comfort in the sounds the crickets made; it had a calming effect on her, helping her spiked anxiety to begin dropping to lower levels.
∞
She had grown up in rural Virginia; not really on a farm, but they had raised pigs and chickens and kept a mule to help till the large garden behind their house. The sound of crickets was part of her childhood, as much as popsicles and sparklers. Many evenings had been spent on their front porch swing, gazing up at the star filled sky while the crickets chirped a country chorus. It was an odd night if the noisy insects weren’t commanding an audience; somehow it seemed too quiet, too serene for her in their absence.
∞
Finally her head was beginning to clear enough to think beyond the crickets and focus on where she was. It was unclear at first just what her predicament was. She only knew at that point she was in her car in a wooded area, why? Closing her eyes again she searched through the thick fog in her throbbing head for answers to the million questions jockeying inside. It hurt to think too intensely, but she pushed into the cobwebs, deeper and deeper, until images began to come to her; slowly at first and then building quickly.
∞
She could remember going to dinner with a potential investor for her clothing stores. For some time now she had looked to expand her business market. She had started with one small clothing store nearly five years ago. Now there were three thriving businesses which carried her own designs exclusively. Her two newest venues were located at strip malls around the city. Her first store, the one she managed herself was in an older part of town. The area was less attractive but her customers came anyway. Her ten year plan had always been to franchise Marjorie’s Magic and see it go national. It was the reason she had been initially attracted to the offer by the investment company and had agreed to take the meeting; it had seemed like the answer she had been looking for; a way to make her plan come to fruition in half the projected time.
She had worn one of her own designs to the meeting; A light gray Polyester blend business ensemble from her Business Best Days collection. A short skirt with matching jacket over a white sleeveless silk blouse. Her creations were designed to be worn by women on any day; by installing an elastic panel inside the skirt with a button loop on one side that could be connected to an attached button to pull it in tighter, or left unattached to provide additional space thereby allowing women to wear the skirt if they were feeling bloated, or if they had just lost ten pounds. Also, by adding a small pocket inside the jacket she provided women the ability to carry credit cards or keys without the need to carry a purse. It was those small details combined with affordable pricing that had created her loyal and expanding customer following.
There was a slight breeze blowing through the open window; it felt nice she thought to herself as she slowly reflected backwards, remembering how the investor had been interested, guaranteeing support from his parent company, but only if they were allowed to control fifty one percent of her business. He was a good looking man, and it was easy to see how he likely won over most business partners- especially if they were female. His Maryland financial group had selected him for this meeting as much for his charm as they had for his business sense. He was no doubt accustomed to hitting far more home runs than fouls balls. He had even worn a red power tie, causing her to smile inwardly at the notion of a tie being a deciding factor in a business deal, She remembered how she’d smiled at him as she instructed him quite politely to sit on his salad fork and rotate. She’d worked hard to get where she was. In a male dominated world, she was not looking to subjugate herself; she had zero desire to lose her creative control in her business. She had followed strong-willed men for the majority of her life; first her father, and later her ex-husband who she met in her first year of college.
Even now as she sat in her car, in the woods wondering how she had arrived at this strange place in time, she couldn’t force away thoughts of her ex-husband; his impact, albeit mostly negative had been so strong in her life that it now forced away all other thoughts. As she sat in the near pitch darkness, her head aching, she allowed her mind to drift to thoughts of her ex.
∞
They had both attended the University of Virginia. She had been Liberal Arts major while he had been focused on a Business degree; that alone should have been the warning shot she needed to realize they were far too dissimilar to be a long-term couple. They met in English 101 during their first semester. He had arrived late on the first day, well after the class had begun and had dropped down into a seat next to hers. She had smelled the alcohol coming from him and had summed him up as a typical overly entitled spoiled brat. For some reason she still found him intriguing. He was a big city boy who was there on his parent’s money, while she was fortunate her dad had saved the life insurance money from her mother’s death for her college tuition. Their college agendas were polar opposites; his being to have as much fun as possible and hers to not waste her mother’s gift. He had immediately sought out and pledged Kappa. She on the other hand had pledged to herself to never become a follower; there had been no sorority for her. Their four years at UVA were a constant battle to stay together; the warnings flashing continuously in her head telling her he wasn’t the one for her. His constant habit of always putting her down in front of other guys was something she hoped was a frat house quirk and would stop once they left the college environment and entered the more mature real world. She clung to him because she had no one else. Her dad had passed away during her sophomore year and Aunt Renny; her sole remaining relative had followed the very next year. Her family was gone completely unless there was an unknown sibling out there somewhere. She knew early on she didn’t want him as a husband as much as she needed him to be the line that tethered her to the rest of the planet.
A loud sound started her, pulling her thoughts away from her ex for a moment and back to her situation. Something had fallen or jumped from the Oak tree next to her car. Whatever it had been had landed on the hood of her car then scrambled away quickly. She took a moment to stare off into the darkness as she attempted to figure out what it was. Finally she decided it has been a Raccoon before once again reflecting back to her ex-husband.
Even with him in her life she had spent many nights alone while he partied with his friends. She quickly came to realize she needed him far more than he did her. While he served to keep her connected to the universe, she in turn kept him connected to the university. Her ex had turned in a multitude of papers with his name on them, but her work within them. She probably knew as much or more about Macro and Micro Economics as he did by the time they graduated. On the rare occasion she was asked to attend a function with him she typically wound up sitting off in a quieter part of the room nursing the same beer the entire night, while he played Pong and drank heavily; depending on her to ensure he arrived home safely. She had been painfully aware of her status and purpose in their fragile relationship, sadly it was still the best thing she had. He was popular and outgoing- all the things she had wanted to be. She had silently hoped osmosis would assist in her development of better social skills. She had endured four years of being his designated driver, while his drunken frat brothers hit on her; many nights of cleaning him up after listening to him throw up yet again. And reams of homework prepared while he slept off the previous night’s hangover. If not for her he would likely have failed out in their freshman year. And in return, she wasn’t completely alone, which was her biggest fear. He was her ticket to higher social standing she reminded herself on many nights when she had to put aside her own work to ensure his assignment was completed on time; with only the sounds of his snoring to keep her company. She had told herself his future business partners could potentially be her key to obtaining a business of her own someday. Babysitting her ex for four years was a lot like raising pigs. “They don’t smell good, but they pay good,” was something her dad had said a few times. She had hoped her stinking pig would pay off at some point.
∞
They had married right after graduation; he had wanted to locate closer to Washington D.C. while Marjorie had pushed for a return to a small town environment; selling it as the best place to raise their future kids. For that reason he had relented and for once she had gotten her way in their relationship. He took a job as an Investor with a fairly large firm up in Reston, while she signed on as an intern at a moderately successful design company in small-town Winchester. He was happy with the position- never complaining about the fifty mile drive to work each day.
She had struggled to get her own designs noticed after falling into a testosterone fueled environment; she was hired seemingly more for the diversity she brought and less for her talent and ideas. She was their ticket to gaining other contracts. Her new company exclusively catered to clients needed work clothing, overalls, and sporting gear. There wasn’t much need for women’s business casuals or a little black dress. Her ideas were not wanted in the small-minded setting, yet she had pursued her goals in spite of the numerous blockades thrown in front of her. Each time she presented her ideas while mentioning client base expansion she was shut down immediately. She struggled with following their lead toward what she knew would be a dead end, at least for her it would be. Once again men were impeding her dreams.
Finally she decided to take her future into her own hands and trust in herself. She began making inroads by querying her male clients about their wives and what they liked in clothing, then she began designing those items and offering them for purchase. Word of mouth in a small town had been as good as gold. Her father had been fond of saying making money was simply a matter of finding something folks were willing to buy and then putting it in front of them. “You make dollars by first making sense.” He said. “People may not like pigs, but they will always like bacon.” For him it was simple; find out what they like and then make it available. It was the most basic law of economics, supply and demand; something she knew well from completing four years of business homework.
∞
Eventually she had been fired after it was discovered she had been using the company’s client-base for her own private viewings. While it had assisted her in building a loyal following, it had not endeared her to her bosses. She had then taken her savings, combined with money from the passing of her dad and started her first store.
She hadn’t really been all that upset over the dismissal; she was more than ready to get on with her life. She had grown weary of following men with no vision; so when the shit finally hit the proverbial fan she was already poised with one foot outside the door waiting for the right moment to leave.
She rented a small building that had been used as an insurance office for a while. It was undersized, but she had gone to work fixing it up. Her husband gave her business six months to live; she gave him the middle finger in return.
The store was in a depressed part of town which didn’t bother her since the rent was manageable because of its location. She was determined to make it work; starting with two older model sewing machines and a large design table. Marjorie would design and then cut all the patterns before using Mrs. Willets as her only employee to help sew the designs together. It was long hours and short pay for a while until her brand name became well known for its originality and quality. At that point Marjorie’s Magic took off as did Mrs. Willets, leaving Marjorie to run the store alone.
She was finding out long hours at the store beat long hours at home waiting on him to finally arrive; she was married to the store and the relationship was growing, unlike the one at home which was close to bankruptcy.
∞
She was finally able to push thoughts of her ex and her early life to a backburner which then allowed her to resume her attempted unraveling of more current events which had apparently somehow resulted in her current predicament. She clearly remembered the disappointed investor exiting the small restaurant shortly thereafter, leaving his salad fork unused and lying next to his plate. She’d finished her meal before paying the tab and leaving.
How long ago had that taken place? It seemed as if an eternity had passed. Slowly she rewound the tape in her mind; it began jerkily before snowballing as one memory begat the next.
∞
She had ordered Shrimp Scampi for her meal and could remember leaving the restaurant still smiling to herself. It had rained a little while she ate, but now the sun was shining again and the air had that just washed fragrance to it. The western edge of Virginia’s spring season was always so alive with color and sound. The Shenandoah Valley was a comfortable fit and she remembered trying to soak it all up as she headed to her black Lexus LS.
She could recall driving along the countryside with her driver side window down. At first she had objected to coming so far out into the boonies for the meeting. The investor had insisted, saying he had heard of the restaurant all the way up in Maryland. Marjorie had relented even though she actually preferred a small place right in the Winchester downtown area. Later she was thankful for the drive which had given her time to think. Was she being stubborn? She had asked herself and had concluded she was done living for others, it was time for her to do the things that would make her happy.
∞
The breeze blew through the open window sending her reddish mane billowing backward as if some electrical current was passing through her. The black roots of her hair were all too evident at that moment. Her face bore the look of a person who was happy with the world. Having finally liberated herself from her husband after fifteen years of hearing him tell her she was qualified to make flower arrangements or maybe stage houses for sell. He had taken great pride, maybe closer to arrogance in being a broker; once her store had taken off and was thriving she proved herself to be a bit arrogant as well by brokering him out of her life. He had promised her she would fail miserably; it turned out to be another broken promise on his part. Five years later she was the owner of three successful stores and had just picked up the lunch tab for a big-time Maryland financial ace.
∞
She punched the number one memory button on her car’s stereo. It automatically tuned into the oldies station. As if on cue, Helen Reddy’s “I am a Woman” filled the air. She had thrown back her head and laughed- there was little doubt at that moment that God was indeed female.
Reaching into her purse, she’d removed a cigarette from a thin pack and tapped it on the steering wheel before slipping it between her lips. Without looking down she was able to pop the car’s lighter in then began humming along with Helen as she waited for the signal that it was time to smoke. It suddenly hit her that she had left her cell phone on the table back at the restaurant. She immediately began looking for a turnaround as she tapped herself softly on the forehead with the heel of her right hand. On the long stretch of back road cutting across the median might be the only way to loop back quickly to retrieve the phone she had concluded.
She could remember reaching for the lighter and bringing it to her cigarette before glancing back to the still slightly damp road. She’d had to swerve suddenly to avoid a rather large frog, and then watched in her rear view mirror as it continued its way across the road. For the moment she was content to watch the frog make its way across the road. She’d watched until it was nearly to the other side; not much chance of it getting flattened she’d surmised since there were no other cars out there other than hers. She’d taken a long drag on the cigarette, allowing the smoke to curl out of her mouth slowly; smoking was her last vice she told herself, somehow justifying her bad habit.
A sound strangely reminiscent of plastic bubble wrap being popped drew her away from the mirror and back to the road in front of her. The Newport between her lips fell silently onto the lap of her gray skirt. Her mouth having dropped open at the sight of hundreds of frogs crossing the road in front of her car. Frogs of all sizes and colors hopped casually onto the road in a mass trek from west to east. Several more bubbles popped before she realized it was the frogs which were exploding as they were caught between radial and road. Avoiding them proved futile, they were everywhere. There was no area left uncovered by the horde of hopping nomads. The road in front of her car had suddenly become a virtual frog minefield. Her face maintained the look of a Castor Oil recipient as she forced the car to serpentine from left to right.
About that time the still lit cigarette on her lap had reminded her of the properties of fire. She’d brushed at it and had succeeded in making the situation worse by knocking it between her legs. Reflexively she’d risen to get away from the four inch blow-torch; she had located it and began to return it to her mouth. It was during that brief instant her car had left the road and headed down a forty-five degree slope. She had been alerted by the sudden sensation of falling. The same feeling that came from riding a big rollercoaster. She took notice of her situation, observing immediately the group of trees still several hundred feet away at that point. She’d screamed and applied her brakes. The Lexus had turned sharply then continued down the slope sideways. Her right front tire struck the jutting remains of what had long ago been a vibrant oak, sending her car airborne for a moment before crashing back to earth in a series of sideways tumbles. Her world slowed in those next moments. The sky leapfrogging with the ground several times. Her airbag deployed after the first roll smacking her face like a large beach ball before deflating. The sound of tree limbs snapping was one of many sounds she was aware of in those few seconds in which her car had tumbled down the hill. From the radio came the sounds of “My Boyfriend’s Back”. The lyrics wafted in and around the other noises, one being her own screams.
Eventually the car had come to an abrupt halt courtesy of a thick oak; striking the right front corner before sliding sideways, ripping out a wide swatch of grass and vegetation then coming to an immediate stop upright somehow with the passenger side door pressed against the tree. As the laws of physics dictated, her body had continued its forward motion allowing her head to make contact with the steering wheel. There had been an instant rush of warmth washing over her, not unlike settling down for an afternoon nap. “Hey-na, hey-na, my boyfriend’s back” and then the chirping.
∞
She now at least knew how she’d arrived at this point. Her next question concerned what she was going to do next. There was only the pale cast of a three-quarter moon to lighten the otherwise total darkness. She could make out the outline of the trees surrounding her. Not much else was visible. Her face hurt. She ran a check to assess the damage. Her arms and hands were pain free. It was her jaw that felt as if it had taken one of Mike Tyson’s best. A missile of pain shot through it as she attempted to open her mouth. It might be broken; it was hard to tell never having broken her jaw before. She prayed it wasn’t mainly because she wanted to avoid the wiring ordeal that would follow.
Moving her left leg provided proof of its wellness. Moving the right proved to be a problem. It did not respond when she pulled it toward her; there was no sensation in the lower region of her right leg. Moving the collapsed airbag up and out of the way she peered toward the floor of the car. She unbuckled her seat belt and leaned forward with a groan. Her fingers groped around the floorboard telegraphing what they found to her brain. Panic rose quickly after discovering her foot had gone through the floor board of her car and was now held prisoner in the twisted metal of her car’s front end. As if adding an exclamation point to her situation the brake pedal had been wedged down on top of her ankle providing redundant encasement of the already trapped appendage.
Her fingers made contact with something wet, prompting her to nervously withdraw her hand. She brought the fingers up close to her face, blood? It looked red but it was hard to tell in the incandescent lighting. She brought it to her nose and was pleased to find it had a smell. It was oil, brake fluid, or some other liquid belonging to the car and not to her. From what she could tell she was not bleeding, at least not externally anywhere.
She attempted to remove her foot from its confinement by pulling as she rotated it slightly. A gasp erupted from her as waves of pain pulsated through her leg like some piece of laboratory equipment in the old black and white Frankenstein movies. It was several minutes before she was able to catch her breath. The pain finally receded like a bear into its den. Out of sight, never again out of mind. Now awake, the pain became a constant throbbing, making her regret ever moving the ensnared foot. She wiped her eyes because they had moistened for some reason. At a minimum her right ankle was broken. She was being conservative knowing it was more likely crushed; perhaps pulverized would be an even better guess.
“Marjorie old girl you are in a world of shit this time,” she whispered to herself.
She knew it was improbable that she had somehow punched her foot through the metal floorboard. More likely was the scenario in which something from the other side had created a hole in which her foot had entered during the crash. File this one under the heading “freak accident,” she noted.
Even with the pain in her foot still pulsing, hunger was beginning to tap her shoulder. Her last meal had been, how long ago had it been? Punching on the overhead map light and glancing down at her wrist, there was only a lighter untanned area where her Rolex had been earlier. It had apparently broken free at some point during the crash.
She found it impossible to assess the car’s damage in the present lighting. The map light was now fading quickly. She could easily see through the front windshield, even with its network of cracks resembling a road map. What she could see of the interior was basically intact with the exception of her airbag. She would have to wait until morning to survey her situation and hopefully remove her foot.
She tried starting the car, all the while knowing it was a pointless move. Even if it had started she couldn't possibly have driven with her right foot practically stuck in the engine and no brakes. As it was it turned out to be a moot point as the car’s engine clicked loudly then silently refused to offer anything more. She suddenly regretted an earlier decision to forego the dashboard navigation system. She tried to recall if it would have included a GPS locator of some sort. If it had, right then some distant voice might be saying “Marjorie, we see that you just smacked the shit out of a large Oak tree, help is on the way.” As it stood, only the frogs knew her current location.
∞
Now thinking back to when she first purchased the car she remembered how elated she’d been just to be able to purchase the base model Lexus minus all the bells and whistles. No heated or powered seats, and only a base model stereo system.
Her first store was beginning to take off and there was a steady profit for the first time in a long while; she had smartly opted to save most of her earnings as capital for future stores. Thoughts of her ex had entered her head as she wrote the check for the car. He had reminded her time and again that an Arts degree was about the same as a Girl Scout merit badge. She could probably start a fire if she had to, but she was definitely not a Girl Scout she offered, not by a long shot.
∞
Marjorie settled back against the seat. She wouldn't panic, not yet. First she’d wait and see what the morning brought. Somehow she knew this wouldn't turn out well. She closed her eyes and listened to the crickets as they issued a challenge to the frogs, who responded with a chorus of their own. Despite the now growing pain in her right leg she drifted off to sleep. In her dreams the investor from the meeting at the restaurant was there; she tried hard to remember his name...Kevin...or Devin maybe, had gone back to accept her lesser percentage offer; now missing his tie after realizing a power tie might get you a free meal, but not fifty one percent of a thriving business. He had missed her, but managed to retrieve her phone from their earlier table and had gone looking for her. When he couldn’t locate her and couldn’t get her at her main store he had contacted the police. A search party would be along in the morning she reassured herself in the dream. Everything was going to work out just fine, in fact she would now have a cool story to tell over and over at social events. A smile spread across the face of the sleeping woman. Yep, it was all going to be just fine.
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