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The gunman’s whole mass was suddenly against her, and Beth could smell his stale odour. His bulk ground the wound at the back of her head against the support. White pain momentarily bleached out everything, but his grip on her throat loosened, and she quickly scraped in some air.
His body slid over and past her and she blinked water out of her eyes to see him sprawled on the cellar carpet. Mrs O’Doole was standing in front of her holding a wok and assessing his prostrate form. She shot Beth a glance and then returned her attention to the gunman, gripping the handle as if she would strike him again.
“I heard enough,” she said flatly.
“Please...” The word felt like it had sharp edges. “Untie me.”
Mrs O’Doole scurried to the other side of the cellar. She heaved a red metallic toolbox off the shelf and allowed its weight to slam it to the floor.
The gunman rolled onto his side and looked up at Beth with confusion.
“He’s waking up!”
Keeping hold of her weapon, Mrs O’Doole opened the toolbox and produced a small pair of bolt cutters. She scrambled back over to Beth and quickly snipped the curtain wire coiled around her legs.
Beth felt the blood pump back into them as they parted. But she didn’t take her attention off the gunman. His eyes were open but emptied out. It looked as if he didn’t know who or where he was, but Beth knew he’d regain his senses soon. Mrs O’Doole was behind her now, working the blades against the elasticated rope.
“He’s conscious. Hit him again!”
But her hands were freed and she was on her feet. Beth’s legs trembled and her knees immediately gave. Mrs O’Doole caught her under the elbow and helped her stumble around the gunman towards the stairs. The flight was narrow and would only allow one person to ascend at a time. Beth grabbed the meat tenderiser off the top of the gas boiler on her way past and glanced back.
The gunman was on his front, arching his spine to push himself up. Beth shoved Mrs O’Doole up the stairs first and gripped the metal handle in her hand tight as she turned to repel any attack. He was on his feet and she could see from his expression that he’d caught up with the situation.
She pivoted and ran up the stairs, watching the back of Mrs O’Doole’s yellow-socked feet pumping the steps above her. The door was ajar and blue daylight was only seconds away.
Beth felt the impact of the gunman’s weight on the stairs behind her and heard their creaking as he pounded up in pursuit. Mrs O’Doole was through the door and turning around to face her, features pleading to her to make it. She clasped the handle in readiness to seal it. Beth felt a hand on the back of her calf, fingers gripping tighter and restraining her from taking the last two steps.
She kicked back but the hand only released its grip to secure a firmer one behind her knee. His palm was hot. Beth turned with the meat tenderiser and smashed it onto the crown of his baldness. She felt the impact resonate through the bone of her arm as if she’d brought it down against a block of solid wood. But it sounded softer. She let go of the handle.
The spikes held the tenderiser in place, and his body wavered as if he were surfing. Beth turned and took the last few paces through the door.
Mrs O’Doole quickly slammed and locked it. “I’ll call the cops.” She leaned against it, as if her slight frame would act as an extra barrier.
“Where are the boys?”
“I told them to run.” She sucked in the last word as the gunman’s bulk battered against the door, the impact flicking up her silver fringe.
“Get away from there. He’s armed!” Beth dragged Mrs O’Doole from the panel by her shoulders. “Where’s your phone?”
“In here.”
Beth followed Mrs O’Doole into the living room.
“My cell.” She ran over to the dining table, ditched her wok and rifled through her handbag. “Where the hell...”
“Has he been in here? Could he have taken it?”
“We were in the kitchen...” Grim realisation. “I gave Tyler and Kevin their iPhones to take with them, though.”
Beth’s fingers fumbled with the lock of the double-glazed door. “Let’s catch up with them.” She recognised the sound of the gunman’s bullet shooting out the lock. “Go!” She slid the glazed door open and gestured Mrs O’Doole through.
They both sprinted out and Beth quickly closed the door behind them. As they crossed the deck and headed around the side of the house, the gunman emerged through the kitchen screen.
“Stop!”
Beth gritted her teeth, waited for the bullet in her back, but they’d just turned the corner and were pelting down the side of the lodge. Their frantic breath echoed back at them as they headed towards the steps. But the gunman only had a few feet to cover before he had them in his sights again.
She looked back briefly as they reached the bottom of the steps. The Gunman still hadn’t appeared at the corner. Beth followed Mrs O’Doole, hauling her weak legs up using the rough wooden handrail to drag herself higher. There were about fifteen to climb and she expected to hear a gunshot on each one. They neared the top and Mrs O’Doole exclaimed: “I told you to get out of here!”
When Beth reached her, Mrs O’Doole’s sons were standing there, faces tightened by fear. Beth recognised the eldest with the blue camouflage bandana and the green trainers.
He looked to be on the brink of tears. “We couldn’t leave you.”
“Fucking run!” Beth broke up the reunion, and they all headed towards the path, ducking and getting struck by the low branches of the trees.
“Tyler, call the police!” his mother instructed him.
“Spread out!” Beth yelled. Tyler was ahead of her. She saw him pull his iPhone out of his back pocket and then heard the shout behind her. It was the other boy.
Beth turned to find Mrs O’Doole had halted. Just beyond her, the gunman was standing. He had Kevin, his arm locked firmly around the boy’s neck and the barrel of his revolver rammed against his cheek.
