The scream slowly made its way out as a muffled gargle, but quickly turned into an ear-piercing shriek. The figure that had been hunched over at first, stood tall and stepped toward her, still hidden in the darkness with an arm outstretched as if trying to quieten her.
At that moment Sarge came running in through the doggie door, barking and trying find some traction, but instead skidding suddenly to a stop on the wooden hallway floor. She slammed into the legs of the intruder and both became a tangled mess on the floor. The intruder quickly righted themselves and ran toward the back door, flinging it open and disappearing into the night. Sarge gave chase, her barks echoing back as she too, was enveloped by the dark.
Rebecca just stood there in the hall. The chill of deep winter now overtaken by the cold fear of the intruder’s presence. She was still standing there when Sarge returned, panting, and limping and only moved when the protective dog jumped up, trying lick her face in concern. She collapsed to the floor, knees to her chest, arms cradled around her lower legs and head tucked in. Sarge nuzzled her and eventually sat down beside her, sniffing, and prodding her.
Finally, Rebecca raised her head, placed her hand on Sarge’s head and spoke. “It’s okay girl. I’m okay. I’m okay.” Whether she was talking to the dog or herself she was unsure, but it helped. She stood, wandered throughout the house turning on every light, locking doors and checking windows, turning on the radio and the TV, and then turning the volume on each up loud. Then she boiled the kettle, made herself a coffee, a strong coffee and sat in front of the fire, on the floor, thinking.
‘Who? Why?’, kept running through her mind, and it all kept coming back to one person. One person that she now knew she would have to face and deal with once and for all. Zak’s time had come.
She finally looked at the time again and was surprised that it was after three am. She knew she had sat in front of the fire for a long time, stoking it and adding logs, but she had not imagined it had been just over two hours since she had woken. Sweat had beaded on her forehead from the heat thrown off by the fire, and she wiped it away with the back of her hand. Sarge had retreated to the hallway, obviously uncomfortable with the heat, despite the outside temperature being close to zero.
Rebecca stood and walked to the dog. “Sorry girl. I went a bit numb there for a while.” Sarge just looked at her with big eyes, her muzzle flat on the floor. “But you did good. C’mon let’s get a treat.”
In a short time, the smell and sound of bacon cooking filled the kitchen, audible even over the sound of the radio and TV. Rebecca sat at the kitchen table, a plate before her stacked with perhaps a little too much bacon. She crunched through one rasher herself and handed two down to an appreciative Sarge.
“I should call Uncle Paul, shouldn’t I? It’s just, well the middle of the night. What do you think?”
Sarge just looked back at her with an expression that just said ‘Bacon’.
“Ok. Close enough.”
She rang the number, tensing as she awaited an answer. Cringing over what she would say, how she would not seem a weak little girl. The phone went straight to a message service, which she thought strange. It always rang, day or night, that was part of his role. Unless he was somewhere with no service. ‘That must be it.’
Instead she rang another number on the list that Uncle Paul had left in her phone. Tamworth Police Station.
After taking down as many details as she could remember, the officer on the line told her a car would be there soon, and she should keep the lights on and stay indoors. She asked, before hanging up if Paul Caplan was on duty, but was told he was unavailable now. Then she returned to the bacon, feeding most of it to Sarge and listening to the early morning radio.
At around four, a car pulled up outside. She looked out the window and saw two men emerge from a police car, not a four-wheel drive. More likely a highway patrol vehicle. They turned on flashlights and one walked toward the rear of the house, whilst the other approached the front door.
The officer knocked, came in, inspected the house, looking for points of entry and anything out of the ordinary. The second officer joined them a few minutes later, after having checked the outside of the house and the yard.
After half an hour, they left. The whole process feeling almost as intrusive as the earlier incident. She wished Uncle Paul had been here. He would have made her feel safe.
They had asked if she had someone she could call, or someone with whom she could spend the rest of the night, but she hid her fears and told them she was fine. Told them she would call a friend if she needed them. Instead, she sat on the couch, pulled the blanket up over her legs and patted the spot beside her until Sarge curled up on the couch with her. She never thought she would fall back to sleep, but she did and when she woke to a ringing phone it was after sunrise.
It was Uncle Paul, returning the missed calls. He listened patiently to Rebecca’s account of the night and then asked some questions to fill in the blanks. Had she recognised the intruder? Was anything left behind that could identify the intruder? And finally, was she alright? He had some things to do, but he promised he would be there by mid-afternoon, which struck Rebecca as strange. She had expected him to drop everything and run to her aid, but then he explained, and her heart dropped, and she felt guilty for monopolising his time.
Late last night, returning home after a late shift he had found Meg collapsed on the floor. He had rushed her to the hospital and had spent the rest of the night with her. Rebecca could hear the tremble in his voice as he told her,
“The doctors…they can’t do much more for her. It’s eating her away and I think I’m losing her.”
“I’m sorry. Can I come see her?”
“Not yet. They said she needs rest. She didn’t wake the whole time I was there.”
“Are you okay?”
“As good as I can be, considering. Listen there’s some stuff I need to do, and I want to get back to Meg, but I’ll see you this afternoon to work out what went on last night.”
Rebecca hesitated but then blurted out, “I think it was Zak. It has to have been him.”
“Yeah. We need to talk about him too. I’ll see you soon.”
“Ok. Bye Uncle Paul…Love you.”
The line went silent for what seemed an eternity to Rebecca and then finally, he hung up.
Rebecca sat for a moment holding the phone in her hand. Auntie Meg meant the world to her. Other than Grandad, Grandma and Jake, she and Uncle Paul were the closest family she had, even though they were Uncle and Aunty in name only. As she sat there worrying about Meg, she thought back to the conversation she had just had. ‘Uncle Paul said he needs to talk about Zak. What the hell does that mean?’
She made her way to the shower and tried to clear her head beneath the warm torrent.
‘Damn. I’ll have to let Matt and Tate know this afternoon is off.’, but then she reconsidered, ‘I could do with some company. Stuff it. Let’s cook up dinner.’