Liz Ellsworth was sitting pretty. She had a nice little house tucked away in the hills of northern Georgia and a nice large sum of money tucked away in several banks. Too bad her ex hadn’t stuck around, he’d be having the time of his life. With some other woman, or maybe two, she thought. After all, that’s why he’s my ex. Good riddance. There are other fish in the sea and I’ve got the right bait now.
Sitting on the rear deck of her house, a modern log cabin that blended in nicely with the surrounding woods, overlooking a gentle slope into the valley below, she was lost in thought.
“Hello, Liz. Took me a while to find you,” the voice sounded from the side of the deck and she almost jumped out of her skin.
Spinning quickly to her left, her heart racing, she saw a familiar face, but not necessarily a welcome one. Not welcome now anyway. He had been welcome at one time, when he had a suitcase full of money with him, but she had no desire to see him now. He had no suitcase and she wasn’t expecting any more
money.
“What do you want?” She was trying to keep her voice calm, but knew her voice was cracking from fear.
“Loose ends,” the small, mousy-looking man said from behind thick-rimmed glasses, with even thicker lenses. Liz had the fleeting thought that he looked more like an accountant than anything else. Just what he was she wasn’t sure, but she felt creepy when he was around and whatever he was, he was no accountant.
“What loose ends?” She feared the answer and this little man.
“You, Liz. You’re a loose end,” she heard him drawl and her stomach turned over several times in succession.
Rapidly with a tingling sensation all over her body and her stomach churning she said, “I don’t understand. You got what you wanted and I got what I wanted. What’s loose about that? I read the papers, too, you know. I know what happened. You should all be tickled pink. What you paid me is a drop in the bucket compared to what you just saved.” She was guessing about that. She didn’t know for whom this guy worked, or why, but she had her theories.
“Don’t know about all that, Liz. I just get paid to do what I’m told. Only money I care about is what I get from time to time for my little activities.”
“Activities?”
“Sure.”
She saw him bring the gun from behind his back. Liz was a scientist of sorts. She hadn’t had much truck with weapons, at least not the handheld kind, but something had told her what was about to happen even before she saw the gun. She didn’t hesitate, didn’t even think, fear took over and an overpowering drive to
survive. She grabbed an empty flower vase off the deck table to her right and flung it at the man. As he involuntarily ducked, she flung herself over the opposite end of the deck and ran down the slope toward the valley below, slipping and sliding on the pine straw under the trees.
She thought she heard a pop, or maybe two, from somewhere behind her and definitely heard a whining sound off to her right. Bullets, he must have shot at me.
Since she had never been shot at before, she couldn’t be sure, but it made sense, so she ran faster, still slipping and sliding on the pine straw, and ripping her clothing on the branches of the pine trees that made up the dense forest below her house.
She was sweating profusely now and her breath was coming in harsh gasps. Physical exercise had never been her bag, but she knew her present exhausted condition was from more than just the exertion. She was scared almost to death and she knew that death awaited her if she faltered even slightly. She could hear the
crashing behind her, he was close and getting closer. Once she heard him swear, right after a loud crash, and then she sensed he was closing in on her.
Hastily she looked around as she ran. It had only been a few weeks since she had come to live in this place. She was as unfamiliar with where she was right now as her pursuer must be. It was her only hope that she would come across a road and a car, or some house and people. If she could only make it to civilization he might back off long enough for her to get away. Get away to where? she asked herself, as she crashed headlong into a low hanging branch and immediately felt something wet and sticky on her forehead.
As she staggered to her feet, dizzy and disorientated, she heard more crashing in the distance, but not a great distance. Get away to where? Where can I hide from them? What have I gotten into? Why didn’t I go to the police when I had the chance? With what, she answered herself, what would I have told them? Someone paid me a great deal of money to leave my job and destroy some records before I left, but I don’t know who it was. Corporate espionage, or competition, with a twist? What would the police have done? Better if I had just said no and walked away.
Suddenly, ahead and just beyond the trees, she saw a road. It wasn’t much of a road, mostly gravel and some oil, but it held the promise of a car, or other passerby. When she crashed through the last of the brush, and onto the road, she looked furtively left and right, for any sign of anyone and listened for any noise from a vehicle, people, a dog, anything, but there was none. She heard her pursuer crashing through the brush close behind her, and she turned to her right, running for all she was worth, up the road, hoping to run into
someone, anyone.
The ever-present Georgia heat and humidity was really taking its toll on her breathing now. She gasped for air as her lungs burned and her legs felt like rubber. She had to hang on, to stop meant sure and sudden death. Liz wasn’t ready to die, after all she had all that money to spend.
Seconds later, she heard another bullet whine over her head and she glanced around to see the man standing beside the road, steadying his aim for another shot, but it didn’t come. On she ran, slipping on the gravel and stumbling now from lack of energy. Her legs felt like lead. Glancing back again, she saw him half bent over alongside the road, fiddling with his gun. Reloading and when she turned back to look where she was going, she stumbled and fell. Her knees both hit the loose gravel and oil road very hard, and a searing pain swept over her, but she dared not delay. Looking back over her shoulder, as she stood back up, she saw the man straighten and begin to run again. The pain in her knees was slowing her down and the blood in her eyes was making it hard to focus on the road ahead. She knew it was only a matter of time before he got close enough to finish her off. She was going to die, she was certain of that now. There wasn’t enough energy left in her to evade him for much longer. Glancing around, she saw no one to help her, she was alone and in the middle of nowhere and she was going to die.
Then she recalled the cell phone attached to her right side, if it was still there. She grabbed for it and was relieved to find it still in its holder. She hastily flipped it open. Calling the police would do her no good, even if she knew their number, because it would be too late before they got to the middle of nowhere. Calling 9-1-1 was no use for the same reason, but there was one thing she could do, one person she could call. It wouldn’t help her, but it might set the record straight before she died.
She had his number programmed into her phone and she quickly pushed the two digits to dial his number. As the phone was answered, she glanced back to see the man even closer and stopping to steady his aim. At the other end of the phone she heard, “Frank Burrows.”
“Mr. Burrows this is Liz Ells...” she cut sharply to her left off the road and into the forest, hoping to avoid yet another shot, but there was no forest, only two feet of brush and a cliff, a high cliff with a long drop to the
bottom.
~*~
Frank heard the name, or part of it, and for a second his heart leapt for joy and then he heard the muffled scream, and silence.
“Hello. Hello... Liz? Liz? Are you there? What’s wrong?” There was no response and he had a feeling he knew why.
Sitting on the rear deck of her house, a modern log cabin that blended in nicely with the surrounding woods, overlooking a gentle slope into the valley below, she was lost in thought.
“Hello, Liz. Took me a while to find you,” the voice sounded from the side of the deck and she almost jumped out of her skin.
Spinning quickly to her left, her heart racing, she saw a familiar face, but not necessarily a welcome one. Not welcome now anyway. He had been welcome at one time, when he had a suitcase full of money with him, but she had no desire to see him now. He had no suitcase and she wasn’t expecting any more
money.
“What do you want?” She was trying to keep her voice calm, but knew her voice was cracking from fear.
“Loose ends,” the small, mousy-looking man said from behind thick-rimmed glasses, with even thicker lenses. Liz had the fleeting thought that he looked more like an accountant than anything else. Just what he was she wasn’t sure, but she felt creepy when he was around and whatever he was, he was no accountant.
“What loose ends?” She feared the answer and this little man.
“You, Liz. You’re a loose end,” she heard him drawl and her stomach turned over several times in succession.
Rapidly with a tingling sensation all over her body and her stomach churning she said, “I don’t understand. You got what you wanted and I got what I wanted. What’s loose about that? I read the papers, too, you know. I know what happened. You should all be tickled pink. What you paid me is a drop in the bucket compared to what you just saved.” She was guessing about that. She didn’t know for whom this guy worked, or why, but she had her theories.
“Don’t know about all that, Liz. I just get paid to do what I’m told. Only money I care about is what I get from time to time for my little activities.”
“Activities?”
“Sure.”
She saw him bring the gun from behind his back. Liz was a scientist of sorts. She hadn’t had much truck with weapons, at least not the handheld kind, but something had told her what was about to happen even before she saw the gun. She didn’t hesitate, didn’t even think, fear took over and an overpowering drive to
survive. She grabbed an empty flower vase off the deck table to her right and flung it at the man. As he involuntarily ducked, she flung herself over the opposite end of the deck and ran down the slope toward the valley below, slipping and sliding on the pine straw under the trees.
She thought she heard a pop, or maybe two, from somewhere behind her and definitely heard a whining sound off to her right. Bullets, he must have shot at me.
Since she had never been shot at before, she couldn’t be sure, but it made sense, so she ran faster, still slipping and sliding on the pine straw, and ripping her clothing on the branches of the pine trees that made up the dense forest below her house.
She was sweating profusely now and her breath was coming in harsh gasps. Physical exercise had never been her bag, but she knew her present exhausted condition was from more than just the exertion. She was scared almost to death and she knew that death awaited her if she faltered even slightly. She could hear the
crashing behind her, he was close and getting closer. Once she heard him swear, right after a loud crash, and then she sensed he was closing in on her.
Hastily she looked around as she ran. It had only been a few weeks since she had come to live in this place. She was as unfamiliar with where she was right now as her pursuer must be. It was her only hope that she would come across a road and a car, or some house and people. If she could only make it to civilization he might back off long enough for her to get away. Get away to where? she asked herself, as she crashed headlong into a low hanging branch and immediately felt something wet and sticky on her forehead.
As she staggered to her feet, dizzy and disorientated, she heard more crashing in the distance, but not a great distance. Get away to where? Where can I hide from them? What have I gotten into? Why didn’t I go to the police when I had the chance? With what, she answered herself, what would I have told them? Someone paid me a great deal of money to leave my job and destroy some records before I left, but I don’t know who it was. Corporate espionage, or competition, with a twist? What would the police have done? Better if I had just said no and walked away.
Suddenly, ahead and just beyond the trees, she saw a road. It wasn’t much of a road, mostly gravel and some oil, but it held the promise of a car, or other passerby. When she crashed through the last of the brush, and onto the road, she looked furtively left and right, for any sign of anyone and listened for any noise from a vehicle, people, a dog, anything, but there was none. She heard her pursuer crashing through the brush close behind her, and she turned to her right, running for all she was worth, up the road, hoping to run into
someone, anyone.
The ever-present Georgia heat and humidity was really taking its toll on her breathing now. She gasped for air as her lungs burned and her legs felt like rubber. She had to hang on, to stop meant sure and sudden death. Liz wasn’t ready to die, after all she had all that money to spend.
Seconds later, she heard another bullet whine over her head and she glanced around to see the man standing beside the road, steadying his aim for another shot, but it didn’t come. On she ran, slipping on the gravel and stumbling now from lack of energy. Her legs felt like lead. Glancing back again, she saw him half bent over alongside the road, fiddling with his gun. Reloading and when she turned back to look where she was going, she stumbled and fell. Her knees both hit the loose gravel and oil road very hard, and a searing pain swept over her, but she dared not delay. Looking back over her shoulder, as she stood back up, she saw the man straighten and begin to run again. The pain in her knees was slowing her down and the blood in her eyes was making it hard to focus on the road ahead. She knew it was only a matter of time before he got close enough to finish her off. She was going to die, she was certain of that now. There wasn’t enough energy left in her to evade him for much longer. Glancing around, she saw no one to help her, she was alone and in the middle of nowhere and she was going to die.
Then she recalled the cell phone attached to her right side, if it was still there. She grabbed for it and was relieved to find it still in its holder. She hastily flipped it open. Calling the police would do her no good, even if she knew their number, because it would be too late before they got to the middle of nowhere. Calling 9-1-1 was no use for the same reason, but there was one thing she could do, one person she could call. It wouldn’t help her, but it might set the record straight before she died.
She had his number programmed into her phone and she quickly pushed the two digits to dial his number. As the phone was answered, she glanced back to see the man even closer and stopping to steady his aim. At the other end of the phone she heard, “Frank Burrows.”
“Mr. Burrows this is Liz Ells...” she cut sharply to her left off the road and into the forest, hoping to avoid yet another shot, but there was no forest, only two feet of brush and a cliff, a high cliff with a long drop to the
bottom.
~*~
Frank heard the name, or part of it, and for a second his heart leapt for joy and then he heard the muffled scream, and silence.
“Hello. Hello... Liz? Liz? Are you there? What’s wrong?” There was no response and he had a feeling he knew why.
