PROLOGUE
1075 Words
PROLOGUE
Hope Nelson took a last look around the store as she got ready to close up for the night. She was tired, and it had been a long, slow business day. It was after midnight, and she’d been here since early that morning.
She was alone now, because she’d sent the last of her grumbling employees home a little early. None of them liked to work late on Saturday nights. On weekdays, the store always closed at 5:00, which was more to everybody’s liking.
Not that she had much sympathy with the help.
Owning this place with her husband, Mason, meant putting in longer hours than anybody else—getting here first and leaving here last on most days. It was no secret to Hope that local people resented her and Mason for being the richest folks in the dinky little town of Dighton.
And she resented them right back.
Her personal motto was …
Money is responsibility.
She took her many duties seriously, and so did Mason, who served as the town mayor. They weren’t ones for vacationing or even taking the occasional day off. Sometimes Hope felt as though she and Mason were the only people around who gave much of a damn about anything.
As she looked at the well-ordered merchandise—the hardware and power equipment, the feeds, seeds, and fertilizers—she thought as she often did …
Dighton wouldn’t last a day without us.
In fact, she figured the same might be true of the whole county.
Sometimes she dreamed of the two of them packing up and leaving, just to prove it.
It would serve everybody right.
She turned off the lights with a dismayed sigh. Then, as she reached to activate the alarm system before leaving, she saw a figure through the glass door. It was a man standing on the sidewalk under the streetlight, some 30 feet away.
He seemed to be staring right at her.
She was shocked to see that his face was badly scarred and pitted—whether from birth or from some terrible accident, she had no idea. He was wearing a t-shirt, so she could see that he was similarly disfigured on his hands and arms.
It must be hard for him, going through life like that, she thought.
But what was he doing standing out there so late on a Saturday night? Had he come into the store earlier? If so, one of her employees must have helped him. She certainly didn’t expect to see him or anyone else out here after closing.
But there he was, staring at her and smiling.
What did he want?
Whatever it was, it meant that Hope was going to have to talk to him personally. That bothered her. It was going to be a strain to pretend not to notice his face.
Feeling distinctly uneasy, Hope punched in the alarm code, stepped outside, and locked the front door. The warm night air felt good after being shut up in the store all day long with unsavory smells, most notably of fertilizer.
As she started to walk toward the man, she forced a smile and and called out …
“Sorry, we’re closed.”
He shrugged and kept smiling and murmured something inaudible.
Hope stifled a sigh. She wanted to ask him to speak louder. But she found it to say anything to him that resembled a command or even a polite request. She was irrationally afraid of hurting his feelings.
His smile broadened as she walked toward him. Again, he said something she couldn’t hear. She stopped just a couple of feet in front of him.
“Excuse me, but we’re closed for the night,” she said.
He mumbled something inaudible. She shook her head to indicate that she couldn’t hear him.
He spoke just a little louder, and this time she could make out the words …
“I’ve got a little problem with something.”
Hope asked, “What is it?”
He murmured something else that was inaudible.
Maybe he wants to return something he bought today, she thought.
The last thing she wanted right now was to unlock the door and deactivate the alarm system just so she could take back the merchandise and return his money.
Hope said, “If you want to return anything, I’m afraid you’ll have to come back tomorrow.”
The disfigured man mumbled …
“No, but …”
Then he shrugged at her silently, still smiling. Hope found it hard to maintain eye contact with him. Looking directly at his face was difficult. And somehow, she sensed that he knew that.
Judging from his smile, maybe he even enjoyed it.
She suppressed a shudder at the thought that he might take pleasure in the discomfort he provoked in people.
Then he said a bit more loudly and clearly …
“Come look.”
He pointed toward his old pickup truck, which was parked next to the curb just a short distance away. Then he turned and started to walk toward the truck. Hope just stood there for a moment. She didn’t want to follow him, and she wasn’t sure why she should bother …
Whatever it is, surely it can wait to tomorrow.
But she couldn’t bring herself to turn around and walk away.
Again, she was afraid of seeming rude to him.
She walked behind him to the back of the truck. He pulled open the cover on the truck bed and she saw a mass of barbed wire, unbundled and loose and in tangles all over the bed of the pickup truck.
Suddenly he seized her from behind and slapped a wet rag over her mouth and nose.
Hope kicked and tried to pull herself away, but he was taller and stronger than she was.
She couldn’t even get free of the rag to scream. It was soaked through with a thick liquid that smelled and tasted sickeningly sweet.
Then a strange sensation began to come over her.
It was giddiness and elation, as if she had taken some kind of drug.
For a few seconds, that euphoria made it hard for Hope to grasp that she was in terrible danger. Then she tried to struggle again, but found that her limbs were weaker and seemed almost rubbery.
Whatever it was the man was trying to do to her, she couldn’t fight against it.
Feeling almost outside of her own body, she was aware of him picking her up and dumping her in the back of his truck amid the tangle of barbed wire. All the while he held the rag tight to her face, and she couldn’t help but breathe the thick fumes.
Hope Nelson was just vaguely aware of little stabbing pains all over her body as she fell limp and slowly lost consciousness.
- Writer
