Photo Copyright: Randy Mazie
David pulled up to the library’s entrance. He closed his eyes and exhaled an exaggerated breath. Am I fooling myself, do I even have a chance?
After a minute he entered the building. The library appeared as if he were there yesterday instead of three years ago.
“Can I help you find anything,” said a middle-aged woman behind the reception desk.
“No, I know what I need,” said David.
He searched the entire first floor, but came up empty. Aisle by aisle of the second floor produced the same result. Defeated he dropped into a chair.
“David,” said a soft voice.
David unlocked the door to Middleham Motors for the first time in three years. The white and brown tile floor once immaculate now littered with papers and garbage. Stale air and dust greeted David, as he made his way to the reception desk. He grinned at the undisturbed space. With effort he slid the desk to the side to reveal one brown tile amid the white. From his pocket he removed a chisel and small sledgehammer. The brown and surrounding white tiles were removed to reveal a metal box. David transferred the contents to a duffel bag and left.
This week’s flash fiction is the continuing story of Brittany,Harold, and Victor. The story began two weeks ago in the piece titled Chance Meeting.
Photo Copyright: Rochelle Wisoff-Fields
As they waited for a table at Wolfgang Puck’s Brittany wrapped her arms around Harold’s waist. “You surprised me with this trip.”
“That was the plan,” said Harold.
Brittany leaned in to kiss him, but midway she froze. Her face became ashen.
“What’s wrong Britt,” said Harold?
Brittany’s voice dropped to a whisper, “Victor is in front of the souvenir shop.”
“Impossible, Victor doesn’t…,” something sharp pressed against Harold’s back.
Victor grinned at Brittany and in a calm tone said to Harold, “We’re going to walk to your car. If you try anything, I’ll kill you here and now.”
Photo copyright: Jean L. Hays
Pain radiated from Henry’s leg. A moment later, he collapsed with a thud.
Before everything went black a voice said, “ Your death will not be quick.”
He awoke to find Patricia bound and gagged dressed in her bra and underwear.
The kidnapper pressed a gun to the side of Patricia’s head. “Did Henry tell you what
happened to Hope and Jason?”
Patricia’s voice trembled, “They ran off together.”
The kidnapper laughed, “No, Henry killed them.”
The van came to a stop. Two men dragged Henry into a pre-dug grave. As dirt covered his body Henry screamed.