Out of control again

“N o! Get out!”

Cari screamed without realizing she had done so.

Martin stared menacingly at her, his black hair a wild halo around his head.

“Please—” Cari cried. “Let us go!”

Martin’s face softened. Still staring at Cari, he suddenly appeared more confused than menacing. His gaze shifted and he saw Rose for the first time—his gray eyes wide with disbelief.

“Rose, is that you?! What are you doing here?” he cried.

“Martin, I could hardly believe it when I heard you were still with Simon,” Rose said. “What’s going on? Why was I locked up? Why are these kids so terrified?”

Martin sighed. His shoulders rose and fell. His whole body seemed to shrink and collapse. Cari noticed to her great relief that he wasn’t carrying a hunting rifle.

“Simon is out of control,” he said and shrugged, his narrow shoulders bobbing up, then slowly down, his hands lifting from his sides in unhappy resignation.

“Out of control? Martin, he greeted me at the dock, wild and unkempt. Then he led me back here to a smelly little room in a dark tunnel and locked me in!”

Martin shook his head. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. You must believe me.”

He quickly crossed the kitchen, took her hand, and squeezed it. He appeared to be genuinely distressed and concerned.

What’s going on here? Cari wondered, watching the whole scene, still tensed, still ready to run, still wary of Martin.

There’s no reason to trust him, she thought.

Why is Rose being so gullible?

“I can’t believe he would keep you locked up,” Martin said, sadly shaking his head. “Well, yes. I guess I can believe it.” He let go of Rose’s hand and slumped onto the edge of the bench.

Sitting hunched over like that in his black suit, he looks like a deflated tire, Cari thought.

Despite Martin’s apologetic look, Cari found herself edging carefully toward the kitchen door. She glanced at Eric, who was standing in the center of the room between Jan and Craig, his hands shoved deep into his pockets, staring suspiciously at Martin.

“Well, you know Simon better than anyone, Martin,” Rose was saying.

“More than thirty years,” Martin said, his voice catching in his throat. “That’s how long I’ve been employed by the Fear family. I’ve worked solely for Simon for the past fifteen. Sometimes I think of him more as a brother than a$ an employer.” He sighed and then quickly added, “A very sick brother.”

“Where is he now?” Rose asked warily.

“Out in the woods, I think,” Martin answered quickly, glancing at Cari.

“In the woods?” Rose asked. “This time of night?” Without giving Martin a chance to answer, she launched into a barrage of questions. “Why isn’t the hotel open? Simon assured me there would be jobs for the kids. Where are all the guests? Has he locked them up too?”

“I thought I could manage Simon,” Martin said sadly, ignoring Rose’s questions, his hands clasped tightly in front of him as he slumped on the edge of the bench across from her. “I was wrong.”

He was silent for a long moment, lost in thought. Then he continued his story. “I brought him to this remote island because he had been so happy when we summered here. He was having problems. Serious problems. I thought he would get better. He was really enthusiastic about renovating the hotel. He sees a psychiatrist on the Cape, and I thought he was making progress. But in fact, he’s gotten worse.”

“Simon was fine when I knew him,” Rose said. “I wouldn’t have suggested coming if I thought—”

“I never knew he had asked you and the kids,” Martin interrupted. “I did everything I could to get them to leave.” He looked up at Jan, then continued. “I saw Jan snooping around in the tunnels. It gave me the idea to trap the kids in there for a while. I thought that would scare them enough to make them leave. I never dreamed you were in there too, Rose!”

Martin sighed and shook his head sadly. “It’s all been since Greta’s death,” he said in a low voice. “Now Simon is obsessed, obsessed with hunting people. At first I thought it was just one of his sick jokes. He always had a twisted sense of humor. But his hunting obsession was no joke. And I foolishly played along with it. Even when he bought the wax heads to hang in his trophy room. I thought it was just a joke. Sick … so sick.”

Cari heaved a sigh of relief. The human heads on the wall—they were only wax.

But her thoughts immediately turned grim.

We were to be his first real victims, she realized. His first real trophies.

“Why is Simon obsessed?” Rose asked.

“You know that Greta died in a hunting accident a few years ago,” Martin said darkly, lowering his voice so that Cari had to strain to hear him. “He’s been obsessed ever since. After Greta was killed, Simon’s mind just snapped. Don’t forget, they’d only been married a short time. It was too much for Simon, too great a loss. He couldn’t deal with it alone. So he split himself into others. He began to assume other identities. To share the grief, I believe.”

“He’s a split personality?” Rose asked.

“If he was wild and unkempt when he met you at the dock,” Martin told her, “he wasn’t Simon. He was in his other personality—that of Edward.”

“I see,” Rose said quietly.

Cari couldn’t help but feel nervous, standing in this open kitchen. She felt totally vulnerable. “Are you sure Simon is out in the woods?” she asked Martin, glancing out into the dark dining room.

“Reasonably sure,” Martin replied.

“Shouldn’t we go somewhere else?” Cari urged.

“There’s no point in running,” Martin said ominously, his face turning grim.

“Martin, what are you saying?” Rose asked.

“In his present state,” Martin replied, “in the role of Edward, he’s relentless.”

“Have you called the police?” Cari asked.

“No, he’s pulled the wires again. I tried to get to the Cape, to the police or his doctor, but Simon has hidden the dinghy,” Martin said. “I’ve been out searching for it. That’s where I’ve been the past few hours.”

“And?” Cari asked, knowing the answer from the grim look on Martin’s face.

“I couldn’t find it.”

“Find what? Is something missing?” a booming voice called out from the kitchen doorway.

Cari gasped aloud as Simon Fear burst into the room, hunting rifle in hand.

Дата добавления: 2015-07-20