Chapter 6 - The Storm at Blackwood Drive
By the time I reached my apartment complex, the sky had turned ink-black, and a violent autumnal thunderstorm had broken over the city. Heavy rain lashed against the windshield, wiping out visibility as lightning cracked across the dark horizon.
I sprinted up the exterior stairs to my second-floor apartment, my heart hammering against my ribs like a sledgehammer.
I unlocked the front door and slammed it shut behind me.
“Kevin?!” I called out, wiping rain from my eyes.
Mrs. Gable—who had agreed to sit with Kevin while I was at the estate—stepped out of the kitchen, holding a wooden spoon. Her retriever, Buster, was sitting by her side.
“He’s in his room, David,” Mrs. Gable said, looking alarmed by my frantic appearance. “What’s wrong? What happened?”
“Eric cut his monitor,” I said, breathing heavily as I locked the deadbolt and flipped the security latch. “He’s running. The police are looking for him.”
Buster suddenly stood up, his ears pinning back against his head. A low, menacing growl rumbled from the back of the dog’s throat. He walked toward the living room window, his nose pressed against the glass, staring out into the dark, rain-soaked balcony.
“Buster, what is it?” Mrs. Gable whispered, her face going pale.
CRACK.
The glass of the sliding patio door shattered inward with a deafening boom.
A heavy iron crowbar smashed through the frame, sending shards of sparkling glass flying across the hardwood floor. Before I could move, a dark figure kicked the remaining glass out of the frame and stepped into the living room.
It was Eric.
He was drenched in rain, his eyes wild and bloodshot, his face contorted into something unholy. In his right hand, he held a heavy steel tire iron. In his left, a set of heavy plastic zip-ties.
“Did you really think you could ruin me, David?” Eric roared over the sound of the thunder shaking the building. “You broke my family! You turned my wife against me! You made me a fugitive!”
“Get behind me, Mrs. Gable!” I yelled, grabbing a heavy wooden dining chair and holding it out like a shield. “Kevin, stay in your room!”
Buster barked furiously, lunging forward, but Eric swung the tire iron wildly, striking the dog across the chest. Buster yelped in pain and tumbled back against the kitchen counter.
“You’re coming with me, David,” Eric snarled, stepping over the shattered glass, his muddy boots leaving dark prints on the floor. “You and the boy. We’re going to the cabin in the mountains. And you’re going to call the prosecutor and tell her you made it all up, or none of us are coming back down!”
“You’re insane, Eric!” I shouted, lunging forward with the chair.
Eric swung the tire iron down hard. The wooden chair shattered into splinters, the force of the blow knocking me backward onto the slick, glass-covered floor. My head slammed against the edge of the coffee table, sending a white-hot flash of pain shooting behind my eyes.
I scrambled on my hands and knees, blood dripping from my hairline into my left eye, as Eric stepped over me and walked straight toward Kevin’s bedroom door.
“No!” I screamed, grabbing Eric’s ankle with both hands.
Eric turned and kicked me hard in the ribs. Pain exploded through my chest, cutting off my breath, but I didn't let go. I squeezed his ankle with everything I had, pulling his legs out from under him.
Eric fell backward with a heavy thud, dropping the tire iron onto the rug.
We scrambled on the floor like feral animals—punching, clawing, kicking among the shattered glass. Eric was larger, driven by a desperate, psychotic rage, but I was fighting for my son’s life.
He managed to get his hands around my throat, squeezing tight, cutting off my air. The ceiling began to spin, dark spots dancing across my vision.
“You... lost...” Eric hissed, his bleeding face inches from mine.
Suddenly, a heavy ceramic lamp crashed down onto the side of Eric’s head.
The pressure on my throat vanished instantly. Eric groaned, slumping sideways onto the floor.
I gasped for air, coughing violently, pushing myself up on my elbows.
Standing above Eric, holding the broken base of the lamp, was my mother.
She was drenched in rain, her coat soaked through, her body shaking hysterically. She had followed Eric from the estate, knowing in her heart where his madness would drive him.
“Get away from my family,” Elena screamed, her voice breaking into a primal shriek as she struck him again with the lamp base. “Get away from my children!”
The front door burst open a second later. Three police officers rushed into the apartment with guns drawn, shouting commands, filling the room with red and blue light.
I pulled myself across the floor toward Kevin’s bedroom door.
May you like
The door opened slowly. Kevin stepped out, holding his stuffed bear. He looked at Eric pinned to the floor in handcuffs, then at my mother standing in tears, and finally at me.
I held out my arms, blood dripping down my chin, and my son ran straight into them.
