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A Short Story – By Sarah Heatwole

Down the Slippery Slope

Through the window, Jakob watched his wife Liliana walk to her death.

Her feet sloshed forward, leaving deep imprints in the snow that lay like a fluffy cloud over the landscape. She hugged the suitcase to her side, protecting it from the cold with the tail of her coat. Dark trees lined the pathway that led to the school. Their branches bowed low in homage to the mission that lay ahead. 

She turned and gave him a last look. Her bottom lip quivered. Did she regret volunteering? He regretted letting her, but knew he couldn’t have stopped her. They had to save Lucy. Liliana would do anything for their daughter.

She disappeared around the bend, and he slinked the car forward into the designated neck of trees that hid its sleek black body. He’d wait until he heard the explosion, then creep out to the main road with only her memory to keep him company, at least he’d have Lucy. 

He couldn’t bear waiting any longer, so he lay the seat back and closed his eyes, forcing deep breaths. His heart betrayed him and beat a touch faster. His wife was a hero. Who was he?

“Jackob, Jackob.” He heard her say his name as if in a dream.

Taps at the window startled him. Liliana stood outside the car with bugged out eyes. 

“I can’t get the suitcase open.” She hissed. “What do I do?” 

He climbed out of the car and looked at the sky. How much time had passed? They were way behind schedule. Rodger wouldn’t wait at the rendezvous point for long.

“Here, give it to me.” He nuzzled her body against the hood of the car grateful for one last opportunity to smell the sweet scent of apple in her hair. He closed his eyes for a second capturing the moment then carefully lifted the suitcase up onto a flat spot. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a tiny key he punched in the small lock and wretched around. The clasp gave a telltale click, and the lid lifted. Beefore he could slam it back down; the world went black.

Detective Ronald Marchaund surveyed the exploded bits of metal that lay amongst the trees. What had happened here behind the school?

Chief Longfellow rolled the crime scene tape around the perimeter of the carnage.

“Looks like an explosive device went off. We should wait until the bomb squad arrives and secure the area before collecting evidence. Call it in.”

Before long the bomb squad truck rolled through the soft snow, its white shell blending into the pure landscape. Men in white hazmat suits along with bomb-sniffing dogs and sorted through the scattered and half buried evidence. Quickly completing the job, they jumped back on their ship, and left them alone.

Ronald plucked his gloved hands through the snow, looking at the debris while the Chief placed a sheet over the incinerated bodies. Shreds of leather fell through his hands like pieces of confetti. His hand closed around a piece of metal. A key hanging from the charred clasp.

“What do you suppose this is?” he asked the Chief.

“Looks like it could have been a bag of some kind. Maybe it housed the explosive device.”

“If we can find the main fuse and incinerator, then perhaps we can trace who created the bomb.” 

“Gather what you can and head back to headquarters. I’m going to identify these victims and work the case from that angle.” Chief stood to his full colossal height, pocketed his notebook of observations, and strode to his car. He put the car in reverse and followed the tracks out to the main road. 

Ronald sighed, where was the rest of the team? A case like this should have the entire division at its disposal. He dropped the leather, the clasp, and the wires he’d found into the bottom of an evidence bag, and used the toe of his shoe to move around the snow until he spotted the shiny nose of the incinerator sticking up. He examined the smooth metal and placed it in the bag with all the other evidence. Now what had been the trigger? A glint of gold caught his eye twenty feet from where he stood. He picked up a watch band and turned it over in his hands.

The initials, JK + LK, were inscribed in the band. He dropped it in the bag and started back to the squad car. Time to process this evidence and see if they’d get lucky with any prints. 

A branch cracked; Detective narrowed his eyes into the dark bottle of woods. Shadows hid the source of the intrusion, but the sound caused the hair on his neck to stand on end. Time to get out of here. His left hand rested on the butt of his gun as he gripped the door to the squad car. Behind him, he heard steps, and before he could draw his weapon, he felt a prick in his neck and his world went blank.

Ronald moaned. His lips were dry and cracked and his throat croaked for a drink. The blinding sun beat down on his forehead, suddenly shadowed by a figure looming over him. How much time had passed? A badge glinted in the sun. Ronald tried to read slowly, but the words were all swimming together. His eyes narrowed, straining against the sun. Chief Rodger Longfellow.

“Thank goodness you’re here. Help me up,” he whispered.

Chief reached down and offered a hand. “What happened? Where is the evidence you gathered?”  

Ronald weakly sat up and looked around, his words sounding like they were echoing out of a tunnel, as he explained, “I think someone drugged me. That’s all I remember.” 

“I’m going to take you to the hospital to get checked out.”

Ronald weakly rose to his feet and struggled to gain his balance. Chief offered his arm and guided him into the back of the squad car. He slammed the door and revved the engine and rolled a touch too fast out of the pressed snow.

On the main road, the woods rolled by at breakneck speed, increasing the clenching in Ronald’s stomach. He wanted to roll down the window and empty its contents, but he realized that the back of the squad car didn’t allow that luxury. Why hadn’t Chief put him in the front where he usually sat? 

“Can you stop for a moment? I think I’m going to be sick.” His request came out in whispered bursts. 

Instead, the car increased its speed as Chief responded, “I’m sorry I can’t stop. I’ve got a lead on a suspect that’s time sensitive.” 

Something didn’t feel right. Always trust your instincts. One of the first lessons Chief taught him on the job. He forced his mind to concentrate. A sign whizzed by. What did it say? Atlanta 122 miles? That meant they were heading in the opposite direction of town. Where were they going? Ronald slumped over onto the seat and shut out the whirring world. Just think Ronald. Just think.  

When he awoke, darkness had fallen. His body shivered against the cold of the vinyl seat. Confused he eased his body up and looked out the window. A small cabin rested at the end of a driveway. A shadowy figure moved towards the car. He slumped back in the seat again, pretending to be asleep. The trunk clicked. He rose again, watching the shadow trudge through the snow, carrying a body in his arms. The moon slipped out from behind a cloud emphasizing a shiny bald spot at the top of the man’s head and the tennis shoe clad girl he carried. Ronald sucked in his breath. The gait looked familiar. It couldn’t be. He tested the door handle door handle, it didn’t budge. His own squad car had become a prison. He shook his head, trying to clear out the cobwebs.

He had to get out of here and figure out this mess. Eventually, they’d come for him, and then he’d fight with all his might. It’s better to escape out here in the woods than to be led into captivity like the girl.   

His eyes peeked above the rear window, watching for the cabin door to open. After an agonizing hour, he saw the sliver of interior light shine out onto the patch of snow. He lay back down in position. His head buzzed with adrenaline and his muscles tensed with anticipation. 

The car door clicked and opened. With a whoosh, he sprang up and kicked the man square in the chest. In precise coordination, his left hand grabbed for the assailant’s holstered gun as he fell backwards. “Don’t move.” Ronald commanded. “You’ve got some explaining to do.”

Chief Longfellow lay crumpled in the snow. “You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.” He responded, as his eyes narrowed.

“Try me.”