BACKWOODS RIPPER: a gripping action suspense thriller Read Online Free PDF Page B

led away from the ramp and around the back of the building. The light disappeared fast, making each step a little more shadowed than the last. Paige picked her way along the path and had a crazy thought, what if I fall and break my ankle? We’d be stuck here for God knows how long. An irrational thought, but Paige slowed her pace and took care to put one tentative foot in front of another.
    At the back of the house, the path met a set of rickety steps. A steep narrow climb on ancient greying wood led to the rear veranda and a once white screen door. On the left were tubs and cartons piled haphazardly. Some contained household goods including battered lamps and broken crockery. Others were overflowing with papers and books. A cluster of wicker chairs and a circular table sat on the right of a screen door. Farther to the right stood a rough stone wall and low archway that Paige guessed housed a laundry room. The whole area smelled of boiled vegetables and something sharp and chemical.
    Paige opened the screen door and entered the kitchen. Enough weak light filtered in from the veranda to illuminate the details of her surroundings. A huge, heavy oak table dominated the room. Every inch of the place looked original, right down to the deep, speckled-concrete double sink.
    Paige found a light switch on the far wall and flicked it on. The switch moved with a solid click and a single overhead bulb flickered to life. She looked around the room and spotted a grey rotary-style phone sitting on an ornate phone table complete with yellow velvet seat and cushioned armrest.
    She tilted her head back and looked at the time-stained ceiling. She glanced over at the deep alcove housing a large, battered, iron stove, above it a mantle cluttered with old clocks and photos. On the wall above the mantle hung a framed needlepoint with the message; THE HEART OF HEAVEN IS THE HOME. She let out a long, even breath and blinked back tears. Until she’d seen the phone with her own eyes, there’d been a small frightened voice inside her – one that came from too many horror films – that didn’t believe Lizzy and Soona had a phone.
    She gave a little laugh and crossed the room. When Hal recovered, she’d tell him all about Lizzy and Soona. He’d see the funny side in all this and they’d look back on today and, well, maybe they wouldn’t laugh, but at least find some dark humour in the situation.
    Paige snatched up the receiver and dialled triple zero. The last zero spun back into place while she waited. A hollow emptiness on the line sent a cold finger down her spine. She squeezed her hand around the receiver and counted to three. Nothing. She clicked the slots up and down on the cradle and listened for a dial tone.
    Silence.
    She slammed down the receiver and grabbed the cord. It snaked out of the phone and into the wall. She pulled the cord out and then plugged it back in, hoping that securing it firmly in place would fix the problem. She lifted the receiver and listened. Nothing.
    Paige sank down onto the velvet phone-seat and put her head in her hands. She felt like a mouse trapped in a maze of dead ends, desperate to escape but too stupid to stop scurrying around and think.
    She ran her hands through her hair and then straightened up. She had no choice but to put her faith in Lizzy. The woman claimed to be a trained nurse, so maybe it was time to put her dislike for Lizzy aside and start thinking about what Hal needed. She stood and walked out of the kitchen.
    “Your phone doesn’t work,” she said, approaching the ute. She hoped it didn’t come out sounding as much like an accusation as it did in her head.
    Lizzy and Soona stood on either side of a medical stretcher with folding legs and wheels, the sort used by ambulances to move patients, except this version looked larger and about twenty years out of date.
    “I’ve had Comm Tec out twice this year, but it’s always something. Water in the transfer box or dust on the overhead