Quiet Servitude Pt. 06a3

My fears, it seems, were unfounded because no one seemed to nice me even sitting there. As promised, Hal reappeared ten minutes later but it seemed a lot longer. He approached from the opposite direction he had left a few minutes earlier and pulled me up from the bench. We were quickly on the move again and before I knew it, we were making our way around behind the row of townhouses.

"What are we doing here?" I asked.

For the first time in the evening, Hal looked shaken.

"I just ran into Terry on the street. Didn't seem to recognize me. He left the townhouse again on foot heading back the way we came. I don't know how long he'll be gone, but Christa's upstairs and this may be our only chance."

We were up a short flight of stairs before I knew it. I had no way of knowing if it was the correct one but Hal went to work on the lock as though there was no uncertainty in his mind. He tucked the lock pick back in his pants pocket and tried the door. The knob turned and the door pushed in an inch. Hal held it there against the breeze that was making its way down the alley. He examined the door jamb and didn't find any contacts that would indicate a burglar alarm.

Nothing. No alarm present. No lights on in the back hall. Hal pushed the door open and pulled me inside, closing and locking it behind him. He pulled a semi-automatic out of the waistband of his jeans and chambered a round. In the quiet of the space it sounded like he had just smacked the washer next to us with a hammer. My own breathing sounded loud now as huddled in the darkness listening for sounds around us. After each minute passed we moved further forward, becoming more and more confident.

At least Hal felt confident. I was a nervous wreck and he knew it. He tried to pass on some of his courage with a squeeze of my hand but even he knew it wasn't working.

"Stay here." He said, leaving me behind at the end of the back hallway. He left me alone, after pulling his hand free from my tight grip and skulked off into the house.

I looked around, trying to find some kind of weapon but there was nothing handy as I huddled in the darkest area I could find. My hand reached up to laundry cabinet, looking for anything that might give me an advantage should I unexpectedly come face to face with either of them.

Christa stopped what she was doing and froze. She listened carefully to the house around here. It was a new place and she wasn't familiar with all the regular noises it made, but the one she just heard sounded new to her. Then she heard another noise. Retrieving the cell phone from her pocket she flipped it open and hit redial.

"Did you come back already?" Christa asked the caller.

"What do you mean, did I come back. Do I look like I'm there?" Terry replied, thoroughly confused."

"There's someone in the house. Get back here now."

She hung up and retrieved a revolver from the nightstand.

"Crap." I whispered, two brushes falling from cabinet, one striking the floor with a hollowed thud. I replaced them both and just huddled down trying to be invisible. Where the hell was Hal?

Hal had moved down through the living room but found everything in order. He was moving back towards the front foyer of the town house when he heard footsteps just outside the front door. He moved back into the room and ducked down into the shadows trying to hide. From his vantage point, he could see the front door knob turn and the front door open slowly as though a gentle breeze was pushing at it. An inch at a time it began to move silently until the form of a human head slid in followed be their shoulders. It could only have been Terry and given his stealthy approach, Christa must have somehow been made aware of their presence.

He was going to check on me but the foyer in which Terry now crept was at the end of the hall dividing the living room in which he hid from the kitchen and hallway where I was huddled low. Hal had seen the gun in Terry's hand earlier and knew that things could go from bad to worse in a blink of an eye.

I had heard the squeaking of the floorboards upstairs before sensing Christa's approach down the stairs. With carpeting on the steps, she managed to make her way down to the edge of the first floor without another sound. In the darkened stairwell I could just make out her shadowy form from my hiding place. I could just barely see her but the shiny, nickel plated revolver seemed to glow like a candle in the meager light. In the reflection of the dryer's door in front of me, I could make out another form skulking down the hallway from the opposite direction towards Christa.

The revolver in her hand began to rise and I knew the target she was aiming for was walking right towards her. I tried to get up quick to stop her but I felt like I was moving through water. Things around me were developing in fast forward as I continued to pull myself through pause. In less than a second, I knew I would be too late!

Christa paused at the bottom of the stairs, careful not to step out into the light. She wasn't sure she had heard anything for sure, but when the shadow in the hall suddenly appeared she knew someone was in the house with her. Her arm took on a life of it's own and the revolver began to rise on it's own.

Terry moved quietly into the hallway, suddenly aware of how much noise he was making. He paused for a moment to try and listen over the heavy breathing that was rushing in and out of his lungs. Despite trying to hold his breath, he found he couldn't for more than a few seconds at a time and it made his ragged breath only that much more explosive when he had to do it again.

That's when noticed the ghostly appearance of the gun barrel as it slid into the edge of the light, as though levitating on it's own. It only made sense that if someone had gone upstairs after Christa that their backup would wait where they did, in the shadows of the stairwell. That's why he didn't hear anything in the house, knowing that she was upstairs. The barrel was continuing to rise when he first started moving his own gun up trying to draw a bead on the unknown assailant. No matter how fast he willed his arm to move, it felt like he was moving through mud. His heart started hammering like no buddy's business.

I wanted to scream, but the words were cut short when I heard Hal's words echo from the darkness enveloping the hallway..

"Hello Christa. Remember me?"

I struggled to pull myself up and run to him but it was no use. I could see the gun rising in his hands but it wasn't ready to fire.

Christa's trigger finger slowed it's pressure, wondering if her target was actually Terry returning as she had commanded. He wouldn't come bursting in if someone was supposedly in the house and she had to be sure before pulling the trigger. She hesitated for a moment until she heard the cold greeting. It didn't take long to identify it as Debbie's former handyman Hal and without further hesitation she shoved the gun forward and started pulling the trigger.

"No." I screamed. It wasn't very loud in reality, but I wanted Christa to stop the killing. It had to end here, tonight, but it didn't need to end the way I saw it developing before my eyes!

Terry saw the gun come up and heard the unfamiliar voice yell out. His own gun was rising towards the target at the end of the hall and his brain told him it wasn't Christa. It didn't take but another second, gun continuing to come up, to figure out who it could have been. It could only have been Christa's ex-husband, hell bent on revenge for destroying his life.

I tried to push out into the hallway in front of Hal but I heard the first gunshot and knew Christa had fired. The shadow in the hall started falling back before my eyes as I stood there unable to help him! His own gun fired, sending a bullet back in the other direction as he fell back onto the carpet. Try as I might, I struggled to reach him, a bright, red geyser flowing up from a huge wound in his shirt.

"No!" I mouthed, unable to scream out to him.

Before I made it to Hal's side, I heard another voice speak up.

"Don't touch him!"

I spun on my heel and saw Hal standing in the hallway, gun in hand.

"Don't touch him." He said again for emphasis.

I looked back down and could tell now that it was Terry and not Hal, the gushing blood already dropping in pressure. I turned back and could Hal standing over Christa's body, now lying at the bottom of the stairs. She was still alive, lying there in the hallway staring up at the ceiling. Hal had nudged the gun away from her hand where it had fallen and as I approached, he stepped over her and walked up the stairs. I had only heard two shots and knew that Terry, even after getting hit in the chest had found his mark.

"Hello honey." I said, staring down at her still form. She was still writhing in pain from the wound that appeared in her own chest, just below the breastbone. Christa had a hand tightly pressed to it but a sea of red was pushing around her fingers.

Her mouth moved but no sound came out. I didn't need to hear the words; the look in her eye clearly conveyed her message. It was a look of pure evil and hatred.

"Love you to bitch. Didn't think I had the nerve to kill you but it looks like Terry took care of that little problem for me. Just like Debbie and her husband Glenn. All four of you dead and my problems are solved!"

I tried to smile but even with the satisfaction I was feeling, it just wasn't in me to really gloat at a time like this. This was serious shit and I would have vomited right there but it would have left key evidence for the police and I wasn't about to give Christa any satisfaction from beyond the grave.

Her body quit twitching and finally came to rest. I had only seen people die on television so I wasn't sure if it were true or she was simply acting. In either case, I stood ready to kick the gun away further from her hand.

It was in that instant that both Christa and I knew she was in some serious trouble. The defiant look in her eye had softened and started to glaze over when it became apparent that for her, death was a likely scenario.

"We need to go. Now." Hal said, stepping back down the stairs, carefully climbing over Christa.

"What's that?" I asked, taking the bundle that he passed to me.

The infant began to move in my arms, staring to come awake. I stared down into it's small face and could see a set of familiar features that had resembled mine before the transformation. It was my child! I was absolutely stunned, unable to move.

"We really need to go." Hal repeated, turning me for the door.

I took one last look at Christa, noticing the evil stare had returned. Apparently she still had a little life in her but it was quickly draining away. Hal locked the front door again and we made our way back to the rear entrance and after looking around carefully, we stepped back into the alley and made our way over to adjoining street. If I had wanted to run before, I really wanted to sprint away but fortunately, Hal was there to keep me in check. I held the bundle in front of me trying not to think about the child I held in my arms. It was my own flesh and blood and it might now be mine if we could just get away.

We made a few more twist and turns, only one police car rushing past us heading for a 911 call in the area.

"Someone must have reported the gunshot." Hal said as we walked. "With the doors locked and no one visible from the windows, it might be days before anyone finds them."

I nodded, slowly shaking the bundle in my arms trying to usher it back into sleep. The quick movements were doing just the opposite, trying to bring it around. The cool air wasn't helping but hopefully the warm blanket would be enough to get us back to the hotel room.

"Back on the run from the law?" I whispered.

"I don't think so. I folded up the crib and tucked it in the closet. Cops will suspect they had babysat at some point and won't go looking. If they do, we'll be long gone."

I nodded, desperately trying to believe in him now.

"Christa and Terry did shoot one another and it will look like a horrible accident. For him to have made it back to the house that quick on foot he must have ran. Someone must have seen him headed that way and they'll chuck it up to a bad accident. They don't like to have murders in their town and write them off as fast as they can."

"Know something about it?" I asked, wanting to keep him talking and myself distracted.

"I was a cop once." He replied with a tired smile.

We made it back to the room where I sat on the bed and got my first chance to look at my own child; a baby girl is seemed.

As soon as Hal was sure I was alright, he changed clothes, and was ready to head out again.

"I'll go to the store and get what we need for the next day or two. We'll lay low for tonight and hit the road tomorrow. Might be a week before I can get paperwork on your daughter made up and sent to us."

With that he departed.

The blanket she was carefully tucked into and didn't provide a clue.

"I guess we'll call you Hope." I said, as the eyes opened and stared up at me. Kids always seemed to scream when first looked at me but my daughter took one look at her new mother, and not feeling in danger or startled, closed her eyes and went back to sleep.

As was our plan, we made it through the night after a late feeding and departed the next day without incident. Hal made a few discrete calls and got the wheels in motion. A week later, we finally received our new birth certificates, driver's licenses and passports. Back tracking across the southern states we moved across the border into Mexico and caught the first of our flights using our new aliases. Fortunately for me, Mrs. Britney Allison was only used to get across the border. It was discarded in favor of another as we flew to the Caribbean for a week before going on to yet another flight for Spain.

In fact, it would be a series of names and destinations before we reached New Zealand where we climbed aboard a personal yacht and made our way to the Australian coast, slipping into the northern territory unannounced under the cover of darkness. Apparently Hal's connections were as good here as in the state and we were set up with all the necessary documentation. At least I, and my daughter Hope, did. His real identity was still intact and we owned a family spread between the bustling local metropolis of Darwin and the small town of Katherine. It was out in the middle of nowhere, but a few neighbors, ten miles up the road knew Hal and we resumed the life that I had always dreamed of. A place where I could live in peace with a man who loved me and a life where I could raise our daughter.

It was all I had ever wanted but it was a crazy journey to finally get to a place where I felt truly at home and happy.