From the Smoke Club to the Ridge, the Smoke Screen Unveils (Part 4) | 16 August, 2024 @mariannewest's Freewrite Writing Prompt Day 2466 | Prompt: concentration of tears

Part 3...

As Jordan drove me to retrieve my phone and purse from my car at the lake cabin, troubling thoughts nagged the entire way. The more I delved into the murder cases of the female victims, the more the Club signage moved to the forefront. Not a patron, but an aroma.

Once we arrived at the lake cabin, I felt the women victimized in the caverns were spurring me on to discovery. What direction still eluded me.

"You disappoint me," Tracie. It would benefit you to visit the place so that you can take your power back." Jordan implored. "This is unlike you to be afraid of anything." Those words shocked and scared me as spider-like fingers crawled up my spine when he reached to embrace me.

My car was nearby. The only obstacle; Jordan had my keys in his pocket. Immediately, I saw again from the corner of my eye a man emerge from the brush. He disappeared as quickly as he came into view.

I pleaded. "Jordan, think. You don't want this! Whatever you're mixed up in, we can figure it out. You're not a bad person." I didn't know for sure, only hoped.

His response was a dagger. I'd never seen and heard a more sinister grin and evil voice. "You're a smart woman, Tracie. You can't escape. Running won't save you from us both. I'll have you first, then Melvin can claim what's left." His eyes grew dark as he lunged for my shirt.

I swiftly stepped aside. My few weeks of training allowed me enough skills to grab his extended hand. With my left foot, I kicked hard in the gut, but instead, it landed in his ribs. Gasping for air, Jordan fell forward. My gut punch shouldn't have incapacitated him. I jerked my head up.

Oh My God! Melvin. The man standing behind Jordan had just lodged an axe in Jordan's spine upon believing that Jordan had double crossed him.

An understanding I didn't want to acknowledge overcame me. An explanation of how so many women became victims in a short span of years. I didn't have time to figure out the "why".

My day just got immensely worse. I stood there with two killers unveiled. And I didn't see any way out of this deadly encounter.

Now Part 4

Either the cave or the lake cabin. Either wasn't ideal as an escape route. The afternoon heat must have jumbled my thoughts because I had no idea why I chose the caverns. The place where an untold number of women's lives ended should have ruled it unsafe. But I had to risk it. If only Jordan was still alive.

Why I thought at that moment that Jordan would protect me when he was apparently part of the ring of terror was absurd.

And why thoughts of Maslow's law came into play wasn't relevant. Fight, No. Flight was the only option as Melvin's bronze, chiseled biceps handled the axe with confidence. From the looks of things, he could wield it with abnormal strength. Look how swiftly he thrust it into Jordan's spine, then removed it with ease.

So toward the woods I turned.

My ankle hurt. But I couldn't allow it to hinder me. No use in screaming as I didn't detect any sightseers or campers nearby. Not able to retrieve Jordan's or my keys from his dead body, I grabbed my backpack and swung it hard at Melvin. He didn't expect the assault, so stumbled backward.

The pressure on my ankle was excruciating, so I hobbled as fast as I could. Behind me, I could hear him breathing heavily and cursing loudly.

"You think you can escape, Melvin shouted." I had an idea he was as familiar with the area as I. Sensing his breath on my neck, I kept going, not looking back. I wasn't a great runner, and the ankle injury assured I'd not get far.

Ahead in the small parking area my car was parked. Nothing I could do but keep going.

A sense of dread overcame me as the next second, my mouth met dirt as I fell to the ground. The next instant, I could feel my body being dragged along the graveled path. My ribs hurt as did other parts of my body rubbing against rocks and debris.

My mind went blank.

I woke struggling to breathe.

The bandana tied too tight around my face blocked out my location. But I didn't need to see. My weekend trips to the lake cabin and searching nearby the cliffs, sights, sounds, and smells returned. I was in a cave.

And I didn't get there by myself.

Don't panic! was my advice as the first response to a compromising situation. So, I took a long, deep, slow breath. A myriad of emotions stabbed me. Anger at not recognizing a killer lying next to me for over a year. Anxiety at not alerting authorities to my location after initial incident. And, fear at being imprisoned and dying in that place in the manner I'd read in the women's case files.

Although the cave rose no higher than ten feet, its tunnel system was narrow, but deep. Of the several caverns, not all were given access to tourists. Dreary interior shrouded by darkness with only a small ray of light filtering in. Porous, slimy rock walls. Damp and cool, with a earthy, but musty natural smell. But the hint of a darker scent aroused my nostrils. Decay.

Bound tightly with my wrists and feet behind me in a rocker position, my face touched the putrid standing water beneath me. Or was it a cave creature swished through the water, rose up and brushed against me searching for food. A few seconds later, flickers of light waffled through the blindfold, together with a lemony scent. Perhaps a torch or lantern.

And I was alone with Melvin. The same situation the other women found themselves in before they succumbed to the barbaric mind of a madman. In all likelihood, two.

My thoughts raced as did my pulse. But they couldn't drown out the eerie quiet or the horrible smell of fresh decay. My clothes were wet from body sweat. As moments passed, I could no longer sense anything but the threat of Melvin returning.

No time to beat myself up over the lack of intuition for Jordan. Perhaps I was too close; or didn't want to see. A concentration of tears welled up and threatened to spill. No time for that, so I chocked them back.

Immediately, I heard a faint sound. Not quite a voice. An echo. I turned my head sideways. Footsteps. Then music! Then, the aroma of brewing coffee.

I gasped remembering a notation in one of the case files.

[to be continued.]

For my theme, I was inspired by and utilized the @daily.prompt's publishing of:

16 August 2024, @mariannewest's Freewrite Writing Prompt Day 2466: concentration of tears;

And,

6 August 2024, @mariannewest's Freewrite Writing Prompt Day 2456: risk it!.