the escape

A crumpled packet of cigarettes lay next to a dirty ashtray, the chipped coffee table covered in stains and dirty magazines. The only window had been boarded up, the walls - old yellow fibro with scattered holes. Candice’s eyes darted around this dingy room .She sat in a straight backed chair, her feet on the floor and her hands in her lap. Her wrists hurt. She looked at the remains of dinner, empty pizza boxes on the floor.

Steve sat slumped in a battered old arm chair, the doona draped over his legs. He clutched a schooner of rum and coke while watching an old porn movie groaning its way through the screen.

The back door flew open and Vanessa stormed in.

“What the hell is that whore still doing here? You told me you’d get rid of her!” Candice sat very still, barely breathing. Steve grabbed Vanessa by the wrist and pulled her into an adjoining room.

“Where’s the money?” he snarled at her.

Candice heard scuffling and took the opportunity to try and loosen the ropes tying her hands together. They had left burn marks in her skin and her fear filled sweat was now itching her back. She desperately needed to pee.

Slamming the door behind him, Steve slumped back down in his chair. He turned his head, his face expressionless, as his question fell to the floor.

“Do you know what it feels like to watch a man die, after you’ve just shot him?”

The colour drained from Candice’s face as her spine turned to ice. Fear filled the air.

Outside it was black – even the stars were in hiding tonight. The moon covered by demonic looking clouds. The fibro shack lay half in ruin in the middle of nowhere, a dirt track the only way in, or out. Not a possum dare be on its roof, nor a tree grows nearby. No lights could be seen or voices heard.

“Can you hear that?” Candice looked at Steve, she could hear the muffled sounds of coughing.

Steve stumbled towards Candice and yanked off the ropes, pushing her towards the door. She opened it.

Vanessa lay naked on the moth beaten mattress, her hands handcuffed to a rusty pipe. Her eyes were wide and her face red as she coughed and choked. A large piece of gaffer tape was across her mouth. Candice ripped the tape off and vomit mixed with tears ran down Vanessa’s chin.

“Here, let me help you” Candice gently began wiping Vanessa’s mouth with shirt sleeve.

“Move bitch,” grabbing her from behind Steve flung Candice out of the way.

“You shouldna done it” he screamed at Vanessa as he straddled her body and began shaking her violently.

Candice inched closer to the door sensing this would be her only chance to escape. She felt pity for Vanessa who was trembling uncontrollably as she continued to cry and cough.

Candice heard a sickening crack and turned her head in time to see Vanessa’s lifeless eyes looking at her, her head slumped at a right angle. She left the room.

Her feet hit the grass hard as she felt the door slam behind her. She ran in no particular direction – except as far away from the filthy shack as possible. She prayed that the cloud cover would go so she would have at least moonlight to see by. The light was changing, it was close to dawn. Her bag thumped against her back as she ran as fast as she could. Her breath was coming in short sharp bursts, the night air cold. She kept running. Her throat felt tight and the pounding in her chest was getting louder.

Candice stopped and retched, the picture of Vanessa’s dead face in her mind. Wiping the bile away from her mouth she glanced behind. Candice could make out Steve’s lanky frame running through the paddock. She started running, even faster now.

Her legs were burning and her sweaty clothes were stuck to her body. She looked back to see Steve gaining ground. Her left foot connected with something solid and Candice felt herself falling forwards. She braced herself and discovered that her hands landed on dirt. She’d made it to the road.

Too late, Steve was right there behind her as Candice stood to face him. He smiled at her, but it wasn’t one of friendship. For every step she took backwards Steve took one step forward. She stopped. Panting heavily, her whole body aching, she slipped the bag down from her shoulders and held it in both hands. Steve walked around her with the knife poised, like a vulture circling his prey. The look in his eyes was of a man possessed, who had no conscience and no soul.

“Watcha gonna do now, my sweet little Issy?” Steve’s tone was mocking as he lent forward allowing the knife to slice easily through the leather strap.

Candice remained motionless, her eyes never leaving him. A calm composure settled over her as she let her left hand slip from her bag, and swung it with her right hand with all her might.