Run run as fast as you can (Emma Frost #3) Read online

  "Now what?" she asked and walked towards the door. She opened it with an aggressive motion. A man was standing outside the door. He looked at her.

  "Yes?" she asked with irritation.

  "I'm the plumber. Your husband called us and told us you had problems in the kitchen?"

  "My husband called you two weeks ago and you choose to show up now?" Lisa asked.

  "Yes. We are very busy, Mrs. Rasmussen. You know what it’s like."

  "No, I don't. I'm not a plumber. How should I know what it’s like?" she asked and looked at her watch.

  The plumber chuckled. "No, of course you don't. It's probably a long time since you've been out in the real world, huh?" he said and smiled at Margrethe. "I mean staying home with the baby and all. Must be nice and relaxing. Getting off the rushing highway of life, right?"

  I dare you to try it for one day, you creep.

  "Can I come in?" he asked.

  Lisa showed him inside and he climbed under the sink in the kitchen. Lisa placed Margrethe in the playpen again.

  "So how long do you think this will take?" she asked and looked at her watch again.

  "It won't be long," he said and brought in his tools, then crawled in under the sink again.

  Half an hour later, Lisa was getting impatient and asked again. "So is it going to take much longer?"

  "No. Not so much longer," he replied.

  "Good, cause I have somewhere to be."

  He peeked out from under the sink with a smirk. "Oh, do you now? Yeah, you must be really busy. Get a lot of stress from staying at home, do we?"

  Lisa stared at the plumber, wondering if he really thought he was being funny or was he flirting in an odd way? She couldn't tell. Anyway, he annoyed her. She looked at her watch again. She had planned on going to the pharmacy before the movie theater. If she skipped that and left within the next fifteen minutes, she could still make it. She thought about leaving him in the house and telling him to just shut the door when he was done, but she didn't trust him. Heck she didn't trust anyone enough to leave them alone in her house.

  He'll just leave an awful mess. Look at him. Look at those dirty shoes. And he smells too. The entire house stinks already.

  "So what's the big hurry?" he asked.

  "I have somewhere to be," she said. "Could you please just hurry up?"

  "I'm working as fast as I can," he said. "Don't worry."

  Five minutes later he pulled out from under the sink and started walking towards her. Lisa smiled. "Are you done?" she asked.

  He nodded. Lisa was about to get up and pick up Margrethe.

  "I'm done pulling the old thing down," he said. "I have the new one in the car."

  Lisa stared at the plumber who walked out the door then came back with a pipe and some more tools.

  "But it doesn't take long to put that in, does it?"

  The plumber shrugged. "Shouldn't be more than an hour or so."

  An hour?

  Lisa felt like screaming. She couldn't believe this. Of all days this was happening to her, it had to be today, when she was looking forward to spending a couple of hours in the movies with her baby and friends.

  The plumber smiled, then walked back into the kitchen with his tools. He threw them on the floor and left a mark in the hard wood. Lisa closed her eyes and started to count backwards from one hundred. She breathed deeply and thought of positive things, like her therapist had taught her. She tried to picture the ocean, the beach, but it was too messy with all that sand. Then she pictured mountains, the beautiful Alps that they used to go skiing in during the winters before they had children. It helped a little. Her breathing calmed down, her shoulders fell back into place.

  She opened her eyes and looked at Margrethe who was fussing in the playpen, wanting to be picked up. Lisa walked to her and gave her another toy she could play with. Lisa heard the plumber drop another of his tools and closed her eyes again, but this time she didn't see any mountains or well-prepared slopes. No, this time all she saw were the marks and scratches in the dark wooden floor that they paid so much money to have put in just a few months ago. The beautiful wooden floors that she loved so much.

  "Yes, sweetie, we'll be going soon. You need your nap, don't you?" Lisa said, addressing herself to Margrethe, who was getting visibly more and more frustrated with having to wait.

  "Mrs. Rasmussen?" The plumber called from the kitchen.

  Lisa inhaled deeply. Margrethe was crying now. "One second sweetie," she said and handed the baby another toy. "I'll be right back."

  Lisa walked with big steps towards the kitchen where the plumber was waiting for her, sitting at one of her chairs with his dirty overalls on her white seats. He smiled when he saw her.

  "Yes?" she asked.

  "Could I, by any chance, get a cup of coffee?" he asked.

  Lisa exhaled. "I … uh," Lisa rubbed her forehead while feeling her blood boil underneath the skin. "I thought you were working?"

  "Yeah, I was. But now I'm on a break. Union rules. It's a quarter to ten and that's when my break starts."

  "And when does that break end if I might ask?" Lisa growled.

  "In half an hour. Say do you have a newspaper around here? I like to read while I drink my coffee."

  "Of course," Lisa said with a shrill voice. "Of course you need the paper." She walked to the counter and picked the paper up and threw it on the table in front of him. "And coffee is on its way, naturally, and maybe you'd like some PASTRY to go with that? Huh?"

  The plumber looked at her a little startled, then smiled and nodded. "Yeah, sure. That sounds really nice. If you have any."

  Lisa walked to the cupboards and started opening all the doors, pulling out cups, plates, and spoons which she placed on the table in front of the plumber. Then she picked up the pot of coffee from this morning and, as the plumber turned his head with a smile, she swung it through the air and smashed it into his face.

  8

  November 2013

  SIMONE BEAUMONT WAS screaming while the animal got completely tangled up in her hair. Its claws were scratching her scalp and it hurt insanely. It was flapping its wings frantically while the most horrendous sound emerged from it. Another animal was on her back now and she screamed as she felt it bite her. It felt like there were more on her now. Teeth touching her skin, biting her. She flapped her arms in desperation, trying to knock them off. The animals screamed just as loud as she.

  The light came on in the room and a voice yelled. "What on earth is going on in here?"

  The animals that Simone now realized were bats, finally let go of her and flew away. Simone fell to the ground, shaking, shivering and whimpering.

  A man kneeled next to her on the other side of the fence. "You're scaring them, can't you see?" he said.

  "Please … please help me," she stuttered.

  "Oh, I'll help you alright. But you have to stop scaring my bats."

  Simone lifted her head and looked at the man on the other side. He frightened her even more than the bats who had retired to the ceiling where they were hanging upside down, covering their small disgusting faces with their wings. There was something in this guy's eyes that freaked her out completely.

  "Please help me. Please let me out," she said.

  "You want to come out?" the man asked.

  "Yes please. The bats scare me. I want to go home to my family."

  The man looked at her with his head tilted. He made a strange frown, then giggled very loudly. "Of course you do. Of course you want to get out. I bet you're thinking about those bats, huh? How they might bite you? How they might give you rabies? Well not all bats have rabies. But it would kill you if they did. Did you know that they can actually transfer the disease just by getting their saliva on you? If it touches your mouth or eyes or a fresh wound. I bet you're wondering what kind of bats those are, aren't you. Well they're vampire-bats. Do you know why they call them that? Because their food source is blood. Nasty, right? These small buddies here live solely on bl
ood. They'll get it from any mammal in nature, including humans if they can't find anything else. Once the vampire bat locates a host, such as a sleeping mammal, it lands and approaches it on the ground. It uses Thermoception to identify a warm spot on the skin to bite. They then create a small incision with their teeth and lap up blood from the wound. Nice, right? They have small razor sharp teeth; they’re like a freaking barber's blade. Do you know what else they use them for?"

  Simone whimpered and shook her head.

  "Of course you don't," the man said. "If there is fur on the skin of the host, the common vampire bat uses its canine and cheek teeth to shave away the hairs. The bat's razor-sharp upper incisor teeth then make a deep cut. The bat’s saliva, left in the victim's resulting bite wound, has a key function in feeding from the wound. The saliva contains several compounds that prolong bleeding, such as anticoagulants that inhibit blood clotting, and compounds that prevent the constriction of blood vessels near the wound. Neat, huh?"

  "I … I … don't …" Simone stuttered. She was crying heavily now, wondering if she would ever see her family again.

  "Of course you don't know all this. That's why I'm telling you. These bats haven't been fed in a while. I guess they are kind of hungry. I keep them here in the darkness so when I turn out the lights, they will try to go hunting. And whoops, there you are. Dinner is served."

  Simone looked up at the strange man. "You're … you're going to let them feed on me?"

  "That was the plan, yes. I once gave them a pig and watched how they attacked it through my infrared camera. I took some very nice pictures of it. But I've always wanted to see what it looked like when they fed on a human. You know, like real vampires. I got some pictures of you as they fed on you while you were unconscious. Don't look so worried. They didn't take much of your blood. Just a tiny bit while you slept."

  "But … But you can't do this … Why? You can't keep me in here? If they're sick, I'll die."

  "Hm," the man said. "That is most unfortunate isn't it?"

  "Please don't … please don't do this to me," Simone said and started hammering on the fence. "I have a family. They need me."

  "Okay," the man said. "I might be able to give you a second chance."

  Simone looked up. A ray of hope grew inside of her. Had her pleading helped? Did this guy have it in him to show her mercy? "You will?"

  "Sure. I'm not a monster," he said and laughed. "I've had my fun. I'm getting bored with you anyway."

  "So this was all a joke? You aren't going to hurt me?" Simone asked.

  The man moved towards the door of the cage and unlocked it. Simone couldn't believe it. She grabbed the fence and pulled herself up. She walked towards the door that was being opened. The man smiled and held her hand so she could get out. Carefully, Simone took the first step out, shaking and half-chuckling, insecurely she walked out. With a deep exhale, she watched as the man closed the door behind her and put the lock back on.

  "Thank you," she said with deep relief. She looked at her arm and shoulder where the bats had bitten her in several places. There were many holes in her shirt. She pulled up the sleeve. The arm was red and swollen. She wondered if she was going to get sick. She would have to see doctor Williamsen and get a shot when she got back home.

  If she got home.

  "Don't thank me yet," he said with a smile. That was when Simone realized the man was holding a rifle in his hand. She gasped with surprise.

  With a wide smile, the man leaned over and pushed a button on the wall. A big door opened and Simone realized they had been in a big garage all this time. Sunlight was let in as the garage door opened and Simone laughed with relief. How had she forgotten how wonderful sunlight could be? A landscape opened up to them. The place was surrounded with elongated fields. There were horses behind a fence. How wonderful it all looked to her. And the smells. The smell of nature, of freedom. How come she had never realized how much it meant to her, how much breathing fresh air meant to her?

  She took a step forward and peeked out. No other houses anywhere. She guessed they had to be in the countryside somewhere outside of Nordby. It didn't matter. As long as she got out of there, she was never coming back.

  Never again. Tim, I'm coming home. Liv, Mommy's coming for you.

  Simone wondered for a brief second if Liv had ever gotten out of the car or if she was still stuck in the parking lot. No, someone must have found her. Tim must have found her and known that Simone was gone. He had to be searching for her by now. Oh how relieved he was going to be. And what about Anthony? Had Tim taken care of him? Had he picked him up after school?

  How long have I been gone? A day? A few hours? It feels like weeks.

  A long, narrow, dirt road seemed to be the only way out. Simone looked at it and wished she could fly. She turned and looked at the man, then down at the rifle in his hand.

  "Now what?" she said.

  He lifted the rifle and looked at her through the sight. Then, he cocked it and aimed at her.

  "Now, you run. Run as fast as you can."

  9

  November 2013

  "YOU WON'T BELIEVE IT."

  Sophia stormed past me. It was early afternoon and she had come back. I closed the door behind me as Sophia walked straight into the kitchen with her baby on her hip. She put Alma down and the baby started exploring my kitchen. I found some pots and pans and a wooden spoon that she could play with.

  "What's going on?"

  "One of the girls in my mothers’ group has gone missing," Sophia said with an agitated voice.

  "Gone missing, how?" I asked and signaled that she should sit down. I poured two cups of coffee and put one in front of her. My heart was pounding in my chest and, for a while, I wondered if it had any relation to the girls who had been stolen from the island back in the nineties.

  Sophia gesticulated, resigned. "I don't know, Emma." She sipped her coffee. Alma was playing the pots with a grin. "She disappeared yesterday, according to her husband. When she didn't show up this morning, we called him and he told us she hadn't been home all night. That they had found her baby inside her car, screaming and crying in a parking lot downtown where she, according to the husband, had just left her."

  "Who would leave a baby in a car?" I asked.

  "I know. That's what I said. Simone would never do that. I mean she did have a difficult time with baby Liv and often spoke about how hard she thought it was, but she would never leave the baby. I can't imagine her doing such a horrible thing. The husband claims she did, though. He says she has taken off, left the three of them."

  I shrugged and sipped my coffee. "Could she have Depression or something like that?"

  "I admit, she did have tendencies. She had all the signs of postpartum depression, you know mood changes, feelings of worthlessness, hopelessness, and she was crying a lot, but heck we all do, right? We all feel that way from time to time especially with a small baby and no sleep. I figured she was just trying to cope with it and she’d get used to it, you know?"

  "Do you think she might be suicidal?" I asked.

  Sophia sighed and shrugged. "I have no idea. She did mention just taking off at one point to me. She visited me at home and told me she had thought about it, not that she would ever do it, but the thought had crossed her mind. But hasn't it crossed all of our minds? I mean, I have thought about it; heck I think about it every day, but who would take care of my six kids, then huh? What I'm trying to say is, sometimes you say stuff like that, but don't really mean it, right? I mean it might be rough from time to time, but there is so much joy to it as well, indescribable joy that nothing else in life can give you. Plus you made your bed, now you lie in it, right?"

  I chuckled. She had a way of saying things, Sophia. I liked that about her. "That's what you do, yes. But still, if she might have Depression, she probably doesn't think as rationally as you do. If the hopelessness gets too big, she might … well I don't know, but I have heard stories, you know?"

  "You think she has ki
lled herself?" Sophia said with a gasp.

  "No. No. I don't know her. You're the one who said she was Depressed. I'm just saying that Depression could drive someone to leave their child. It has happened before."

  Sophia emptied her coffee cup. "Now I'm afraid you might be right."

  "Do you have any idea where she might have gone to? What does the husband say? Has he gone to the police?"

  "He talked to them down at the station, but he is convinced that she has left them. He told me that on the phone. Apparently, she threatened to leave him the night before she disappeared. According to him, they had a big fight."

  "And what do you think?" I asked, finishing my cup.

  "I don't know what to think now. I'm afraid she might have done something really stupid. Come to think of it, she has been getting a lot worse the last couple of months."

  I put my hand on top of Sophia's to comfort her. "Let's wait and see. Maybe she’ll come home later today. Maybe she just needed a break from things to think it through. Maybe she just needed a good night’s sleep in a hotel somewhere."

  "I hope you're right. I really hope you are."

  10

  August 2005

  THOMAS WAS WATCHING Ellen while she was hanging up the laundry to dry outside in the sun. He couldn't help but smile. The growing stomach made things more and more difficult for her to do, like bending down to pick up the laundry from the basket. She breathed heavily and put a hand to her stomach. Ellen was more beautiful than ever, he thought. What was it they said about pregnant women? That they glowed? Oh yes, Ellen glowed stronger than the sun. She was as radiant as ever.