[Ambys 2022: Mystery/Thriller Winner]
Discovering a dead body just minutes from her cottage in the trees is the last thing Dray Dinley expects upon moving to the remote town of Hero.
Being convinced by the town outcast and suspected murderer, Wells...
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Sharp pricks ran up and down Dray's neck and through her head. She rolled over and tried to rub the pain away. In the midst of her massage, she shot up.
"What happened?" Her words slurred together. Her palms pressed into a soft cushion for balance as her vision flooded with black spots.
"Are you okay?" Wells sat next to her, leaning against a concrete wall. He brushed away hair stuck to her cheeks.
She took his hand in hers. "I'm fine. What happened?"
"I don't know. I got knocked out right after you took your pictures." His head fell back against the wall.
Dray inhaled and looked around. The dark room smelled of must and mold, like her old college house basement. The cement floors matched the walls, but with dark, splotchy colors. A cot with a thin mattress sat rickety beneath them.
The heat from outside seeped in, but Dray wrapped her arms around her. She wrung her hands together as her eyes darted around the space. Her heartbeat got louder in her ears and her breathing sped up in a choppy rhythm.
A loud cackle from the other side of the walls snapped their attention towards a door. It blended in with the dirty gray walls.
The door opened and let a dim stream of light inside. A skinny man with stringy hair sauntered in. A deep voice followed and the words put an icy chill down Dray's spine.
"Have fun."
The door slammed shut.
The dingy man smirked and pulled a gun from his baggy jeans. He hold it loosely between his fingers, shifting it between Wells and Dray.
"Sneaky, sneaky people, but not sneaky enough."
His voice reminded Dray of nails on a chalkboard.
Wells' attention focused straight ahead, oblivious to Dray's consistent glances. His anger displayed deep throughout his features.
Suddenly, the man shot the gun between them. The sound struck their bodies and Dray leaped off the bed with her hands over her ears.
"No!" He trained the gun on her. "Back on the bed."
She froze and lowered her hands at a snail's pace. Her hair hung in front of her eyes, but it was crystal clear a gun hovered inches from her head. Dray kept her eyes on the man and shuffled back to the bed.
The dirty man grinned and walked towards Wells. "A bit skittish, she is, huh?" The gun shifted sloppily back and forth. He bent down, placing one hand on his knee, and got up in Wells' face. "You not going to defend your woman, boy?"
The stench from his breath reached Dray.
Wells kept his mouth shut, but turned his head slightly to the side.
