Out of the Shadows Read Online Free PDF Page B
Author: Timothy Boyd
screamed. I jumped out of the seat but couldn’t stand. As I fell over onto the floor, I saw the man round the corner, Annie in one arm, a gun in his hand. She bit him, and he dropped her. Sarah emerged from our bedroom and threw her arms around the man’s neck. He elbowed her stomach, forcing her to double over before he spun around quickly and slammed the butt of his gun into her head, knocking her to the floor, unconscious.
I couldn’t do anything. I struggled to stand, but everything I saw was blurry and nauseating. In my whiskey stupor, I managed to raise myself to my knees and mumble something. I saw the intruder point his gun at me. I heard Annie scream “Daddy!” as she ran toward me. Then the gunshot. The man uttered an obscenity, tripped over Sarah’s body, charged down the hallway, and scrambled out the front door.
The urge to vomit had been so strong when things finally came into focus, and I saw my little girl lying on her stomach in a massive pool of her own blood, her face pointed in my direction, her green eyes staring into my soul. It was as if her dead body were able to ask, “Why daddy? Why didn’t you help us? Do you love whiskey more than you love me?!”
Now, as I stood in the kitchen at the location of the end of my daughter’s life, the end of my marriage, and the end of who I had been, something inside me finally shattered. I knew that things needed to change. My life wasn’t over yet, and I had spent the past two years acting as if it were. I figured this was as good a time as any to definitively quit drinking. And maybe, if the world still existed in a week, I could try to get my old job back.
I didn’t risk walking down the length of the kitchen, knowing that there were many creaky spots in the floor, and I wasn’t yet ready to announce my presence. Instead, I went left through the living room, circling around to the bedroom hallway. I saw Annie’s door, closed, with a beam of warm halogen light sneaking out from the base. I placed my ear against it and heard nothing. Slowly, I turned the knob and pushed open the door.
My chest clenched as I saw the yellow carpet and walls, the small twin bed, the stuffed bears, the hanging carousel lamp; all of Annie’s things remained untouched. I could almost hear the echoes of innocent laughter, imagining her sitting on the floor playing with her animals, giving each of them a character to play out in her dramas.
Sarah sat on a folding chair in the center of the room, her back to me.
I kept my gun raised toward the ceiling, ready to spring into action as I asked, “Sarah?”
She didn’t respond.
I saw her torso expanding with breath, so I knew she wasn’t dead. “Sarah, it’s B… it’s Nick.” I almost said “Bear,” but I quickly remembered that she hated that nickname and refused to call me by it. I took a few steps into the room, my gun lowering toward the floor.
Still, she didn’t respond.
As I neared her, I could see that she was trembling. I cautiously stepped around to face her, and she looked up at me, her long brown hair falling into her face, fear and regret in her eyes, her skin pale and sweaty, a strip of cloth tied around her mouth.
I immediately removed the gag as she tried to push me away, tears streaming down her face. “Sarah,” I said. “Are you all right? What happened?!”
She continued shoving me back. “Please, you have to leave. Leave now!”
“What’s going on?!”
“Nick, they’re here!”
I stepped back in shock as her words sunk into my thick skull. Of course. The thought hadn’t even crossed my mind before this moment. The open front door. The light in Annie’s room. Sarah sitting here by herself, bound and gagged.
It was a trap.
These people used to be acquaintances in town. They knew I wouldn’t be able to walk away from Angelwood without stopping here first. I thought back to the events at the police station when the newly turned Billy had begun quietly muttering that he had
I couldn’t do anything. I struggled to stand, but everything I saw was blurry and nauseating. In my whiskey stupor, I managed to raise myself to my knees and mumble something. I saw the intruder point his gun at me. I heard Annie scream “Daddy!” as she ran toward me. Then the gunshot. The man uttered an obscenity, tripped over Sarah’s body, charged down the hallway, and scrambled out the front door.
The urge to vomit had been so strong when things finally came into focus, and I saw my little girl lying on her stomach in a massive pool of her own blood, her face pointed in my direction, her green eyes staring into my soul. It was as if her dead body were able to ask, “Why daddy? Why didn’t you help us? Do you love whiskey more than you love me?!”
Now, as I stood in the kitchen at the location of the end of my daughter’s life, the end of my marriage, and the end of who I had been, something inside me finally shattered. I knew that things needed to change. My life wasn’t over yet, and I had spent the past two years acting as if it were. I figured this was as good a time as any to definitively quit drinking. And maybe, if the world still existed in a week, I could try to get my old job back.
I didn’t risk walking down the length of the kitchen, knowing that there were many creaky spots in the floor, and I wasn’t yet ready to announce my presence. Instead, I went left through the living room, circling around to the bedroom hallway. I saw Annie’s door, closed, with a beam of warm halogen light sneaking out from the base. I placed my ear against it and heard nothing. Slowly, I turned the knob and pushed open the door.
My chest clenched as I saw the yellow carpet and walls, the small twin bed, the stuffed bears, the hanging carousel lamp; all of Annie’s things remained untouched. I could almost hear the echoes of innocent laughter, imagining her sitting on the floor playing with her animals, giving each of them a character to play out in her dramas.
Sarah sat on a folding chair in the center of the room, her back to me.
I kept my gun raised toward the ceiling, ready to spring into action as I asked, “Sarah?”
She didn’t respond.
I saw her torso expanding with breath, so I knew she wasn’t dead. “Sarah, it’s B… it’s Nick.” I almost said “Bear,” but I quickly remembered that she hated that nickname and refused to call me by it. I took a few steps into the room, my gun lowering toward the floor.
Still, she didn’t respond.
As I neared her, I could see that she was trembling. I cautiously stepped around to face her, and she looked up at me, her long brown hair falling into her face, fear and regret in her eyes, her skin pale and sweaty, a strip of cloth tied around her mouth.
I immediately removed the gag as she tried to push me away, tears streaming down her face. “Sarah,” I said. “Are you all right? What happened?!”
She continued shoving me back. “Please, you have to leave. Leave now!”
“What’s going on?!”
“Nick, they’re here!”
I stepped back in shock as her words sunk into my thick skull. Of course. The thought hadn’t even crossed my mind before this moment. The open front door. The light in Annie’s room. Sarah sitting here by herself, bound and gagged.
It was a trap.
These people used to be acquaintances in town. They knew I wouldn’t be able to walk away from Angelwood without stopping here first. I thought back to the events at the police station when the newly turned Billy had begun quietly muttering that he had