His Daughter

Chapter 27

Greg shot up from the chair almost immediately; his vision zeroing on the door, now standing ajar and inviting. But just as soon as he stood up, he fell to his knees, hissing in pain as his calf muscles cramped from the sudden blood rush. He fell onto his elbows, almost desperately trying to fight the pain. He needed to be fast. He needed to be out of here right now. He begun to rise up on shaky legs, taking small steps towards the exit. The pain was unbearable, muscles tensing unpleasantly from lack of movement. His bladder felt swollen and heavy as he took his first steps; filled with fluid. He had no time to relive himself, no time to massage out the pain. His steps begun to speed up, as the cramping lessened, however he could not walk properly... The injury sustained while he tumbled down the stairs gripped his leg in its clutches, sending pulses of excruciating pain every time he moved. And to think it was only a few days ago... To Greg it felt like a centuries instead of days.

He began climbing up the stairs, limping and stumbling, but not relenting one bit. He was determined to make it. He was determined to stop it. He almost felt as if an invisible force was pushing him up, helping him stay upright as the distance from the door grew shorter. Soon Greg was gripping the door frame, pulling himself out of the tight staircase and into the kitchen. The lights were off.

The room looked just like the way he left it. All of the plates and cups smashed laid smashed on the floor, decorated by the floral tablecloth, now ripped to shreds from his previous outburst. The only thing that was different was the table, now put back up right with books supporting one of the broken legs. The surface was littered with takeout boxes, beer bottles and cigarettes.

Greg looked around, scrutinising all of the surfaces of the room.

"Where are you?"

Were they upstairs? He couldn't just call out, scared that Gabbie still might have something to sedate him with... or even worse... She could be armed now. But, would she expect him to get out? He was sealed up pretty tight... Did she know about the deal with the Collective? Did she even know it existed?

"No, not important." He remined himself as he stepped deeper into the room. He had to find them quick. Should he take a weapon? Greg looked around before unceremoniously wobbling towards the counter and pulling open one of the drawers. There it was... A sharp knife, fully made out of steel, including the handle; glowing in the dark and calling Greg's name. Greg quickly grabbed it before looking up through the widow; a small glow catching his attention.

There they were...

Gabbie stood by the end of the pier, holding Jenny in her arms. She looked like she had been waiting for something, just standing there and looking over the surface of the water. The pier was decorated with glowing candles; wax dripping down the supporting pillars and into the water, leaving streaks of glowing trails as if thousands of snails suddenly decided to drown themselves.

Greg limped towards the door of the patio, slowly pushing it open so as not to make a sound. He wanted to run. He wanted to bolt through the grassy yard and tackle Gabbie to the ground, but he decided against it. Gabbie was not fully turned away from him, she could still see him in the corner of her eye if he moved way to fast. He begun to descend down the terrasse steps, quiet as a shadow. In spite of pain, he put his feet carefully on the ground, weary of making any rustling sound. He needed to be silent. He needed to be almost invisible. Soon his socked feet touched the grass. He winced at the unpleasant dampness of the soil. His feet felt freezing cold with every step that he took, water soaking his socks and pants. He silently thanked God that he wasn't wearing any shoes. The soles could have made a thudding sound if only he had them.

Twenty meters.

Fifteen meters.

Ten meters.

Five meters.

Greg right foot finally stepped on the wooden pier. The wood was wet and slippery, indicating that while Greg was locked up there, it must have been raining outside. Gabbie was right there, by the end of the pier.

"C'mon, you can't lose focus now... You are almost there"

He carefully put his left foot on the next plank, slowly putting weight on it, with what seemed like surgical precision. The pier looked old, and even if wet, it could still creak under too much weight. Gabbie might have not noticed him sneaking behind her back. She might have not noticed the rustling sounds, since she looked consumed by thoughts, but a creaking wooden board? That would definitely catch her attention.

Four meters.

"You can do it."

Three meters

"Be careful"

Two Meters

"Almost there"

One meter....

He could almost reach Gabbie's shoulder...

Suddenly, something steered in the water, teasing the surface of the black abyss as bubbles of air begun to escape from the depths. Soon the water was sloshing as whatever had been waiting beneath the depths finally decided to emerge.

Greg's foot pressed on the board right behind Gabbie, producing a loud creek....