Page 36 of Deadly Cry
‘It’s the car, isn’t it? I told her to get something more practical, more sensible but—’
‘It’s not the car,’ Kim said. ‘But I’m sorry to tell you that Louise is dead.’
That Godforsaken word again.
No response.
Kim knew she had heard, but right now her mind was trying to compute those words against the normality of cooking dinner with a glass of wine, waiting for her partner to return home.
‘I’m sorry but I think you should leave,’ Robyn said as the colour started to seep from her face. The woman thought she could get them, along with their bad news, out of the house. And then it wouldn’t be real.
‘She’s not coming, Robyn. I’m sorry but your wife has been murdered.’
Her mouth fell open as her legs buckled. Bryant had been moving closer and was there to offer a steadying hand so that she didn’t fall.
‘M… murdered.’
‘I’m afraid so,’ Kim said as Bryant guided Robyn to a chair.
The sound of something bubbling over and hissing on the hob drew Bryant’s attention.
He reached over and turned the knobs off.
Kim continued. ‘She was found by a ranger at Stevens Park in—’
‘I know where it is,’ she said as her eyes came alight with a sudden urgency, as though there was something she’d completely forgotten.
‘Where’s Archie?’
Kim’s head snapped towards Bryant.
‘Who is Archie?’ she asked as a boulder began to form in the pit of her stomach.
‘Archie is our six-year-old son.’
Thirty-One
I am startled awake from my dream.
I can feel the breath building in my body. I feel like an over-inflated balloon. I am full of air and it has no way to escape.
I try to let out a breath, but there is something heavy across my face bearing down hard; my nose feels as though I’ve inhaled a hundred feathers and my mouth is blocked.
In response, my eyes try to open, to see the threat against me, but my eyelids meet the fabric of something that feels like a pillow and offers only more darkness.
My legs begin to thrash but the force is immovable. My lower half convulses as the panic and fear runs through my veins, but my upper half is held rigid.
My mouth opens and I am gasping for air, trying to draw breath from or through the fabric.
Please, help me, someone, my mind screams as a drop of urine escapes and runs down my leg.
My shame is quickly swallowed by the knowledge that I am about to die. My head begins to swim, and fireworks are popping in my head.
There is no time left. I am dying.
And then it is gone. The weight is lifted from my face. I gulp in fresh air, forcing it down into my lungs. I cough and I splutter into the darkness that surrounds me. Stars twinkle in my head. Fireworks are popping behind my eyes.
The beating of my heart is deafening in my ears. The silence beyond it is terrifying.
