Luke Delaney - The Keeper

But the gap between them was shrinking. Deborah’s injured knee couldn’t support her weight, so she hobbled, dragging it after her, on feet that were cut and bleeding from the stones and broken glass that littered the yard. Her eyes were frantically scanning the area for help, but there was no road with passing traffic, no neighbouring houses, just an ugly cottage that she instinctively knew was his home. She decided her only hope was to carry on along the uneven dirt road and hope that it would lead her away from this hell, but he was gaining on her, his unsteady footsteps louder. Still she kept moving, tears streaming from her eyes, until finally she sensed he was right behind her, fingers like tendrils reaching out to grab her.

Filling her lungs, Deborah readied herself for one desperate scream, but the searing pain that ripped into the base of her spine stole the last of her resistance and sent her crashing to the stony ground, the electricity from the stun-gun reverberating through every sinew of her body.

Hands clutched at her clothes and pulled her over on to her back. Her unblinking eyes fixed on the face hovering above her, contorted in a grimace of agony as he tugged at the syringe, the skin of his neck stretching until at last the metal spike came free. He threw it as far as he could, the momentum of his swinging arm throwing him off balance as the alfentanil continued to impede his motor-skills. He screamed a primeval yell into the bright, clear sky and dropped to his knees next to her, resting his head on her chest, his hand gently stroking her hair as he sobbed. ‘You shouldn’t have done that, Sam,’ he whispered. ‘You shouldn’t listen to their lies. I’m the only one who really loves you. I’m the only one who really knows you. This is your home.’

The convulsions of the body underneath him gradually slowed, her arms and legs beginning to bend and move slightly as they came back to life, but her muscles were exhausted. She tried to push him off her, but her weak limbs made it seem more like an embrace. He lifted his head from her chest and moved towards her face. He wiped her tears and mucus away with his thumbs and began to kiss her face softly, each kiss lingering on her skin as if it would be the last kiss he ever gave, the salt of her sweat and tears making his bloodied lips sting and effervesce exquisitely, a sensation he’d never experienced before, except with her, except with Sam, so long ago he’d almost forgotten.

Pushing himself away, he slipped a hand under her and draped her arm over his shoulder, hauling her to her feet, but he had to bear most of her weight along with his own, dragging her back towards the cellar, her injured leg trailing behind them as they walked like two injured soldiers, one helping the other. ‘Come on,’ he said, ‘before anyone sees you. Hold on to me. I won’t let you go. I promise I’ll never let you go.’ She wanted to push him away, to knock him to the floor and cave his skull in with the nearest brick or rock, but she couldn’t; her body was too weak from her injuries and the after-effects of the brutal electric shock, her adrenalin spent.

As they moved closer to the cellar door Deborah felt her numb body gradually coming back to life. Though still weak and slow to respond, her muscles were beginning to heed the commands of her mind. And while she was growing stronger, he was weakening, drained by the effort of dragging her. But if her recovery continued at its current pace she was afraid it would be too late to save her; she could picture the cage door slamming shut just as she felt strong enough to overpower him. As the doorway loomed in front of them, her jaw unfroze enough for her to mumble, ‘No,’ her free hand stretching out, fingers grasping and holding the door frame, jolting them both to a halt once the slack in her arm had been fully extended. ‘No,’ she repeated, her words becoming clearer. ‘Not down there, please.’ He pulled at her arm, but she wouldn’t let go, fear lending her strength.

Realizing he was running out of time and strength, but reluctant to use the stun-gun on her again and leave himself with a dead weight to carry down the stairs, Keller lashed out in blind panic, sinking his teeth into the fingers that were clutching the door frame. He bit hard and deep into her knuckles, the serrated ends of his sharp teeth gnawing at her skin and bones, the coppery taste of warm blood seeping across his tongue. The primal brutality of his actions seemed to fire life and strength into Keller. The louder she screamed, the harder he bit, his teeth struggling to find purchase on the slippery bones of her fingers, his throat pulsing as he swallowed the blood welling in his mouth.

Unable to hold on any longer, Deborah released her grip on the door frame, sending them both plunging through the doorway and down the first few stairs, their limbs tangled together like two erotic dancers, neither making a sound, neither calling out in pain as their bodies jarred and bounced off the hard steps that battered and bruised them as they fell. When they finally came to a stop, he was lying on top of her, his face millimetres from hers, their breath mixing together to make one sickly-sweet scent. For a second their eyes met, each as terrified as the other, an understanding between them that they were engaged in a fight for their lives.

Her blows came in a torrent, her legs and knees trapped under his, bucking and kicking as hard as they could, her weakly clenched fists pummelling the top and sides of his head, intermittently turning into scratching talons searching for his eyes. His skin burned with the searing pain of broken, jagged nails tearing at the soft flesh of his face. He squealed and screeched in pain, peering through the thin slits of his eyes, trying to catch her flailing arms by the wrists.

He hadn’t wanted to hurt her, not his beloved Sam, but she was clearly still full of their poison and her attempted escape and her renewed violence towards him had all but pushed his compassion away. It retreated into the depths of his soul, replaced by the anger that had always simmered so close to the surface. His fury gave him a new-found strength, his squeals turning into a roar as he gripped the hair on top of her head and dragged her mercilessly down the stairs, backwards and head first, her backbone and ribs crunching into the edge of each step until at last the ground beneath her flattened out. Tightening his grip on her hair, he hauled her across the cellar floor, her good leg desperately trying to find purchase, to resist their progress. Her struggling jerked his shoulder, the pain increasing his anger. He pulled his foot back as far as he could without overbalancing and kicked her in the spine halfway down her back, the agony making her entire body arch. Inch by inch he dragged her closer to the cage that she’d escaped from only minutes earlier.

Words spluttered from her mouth, minute flecks of her blood and spit leaving a treasure trove of forensic evidence on his skin, clothes and hair, evidence that might one day bury her executioner, but meaningless to her now. ‘Please, you fucking animal, let me go, please. I won’t tell anyone, please. I’ll kill you, let me go or I swear I’ll kill you. Let me fucking go.’

Breaking his own rules of self-preservation, he backed into the cage first. Too tired to pull her in one fluid motion, he tried to do it bit by bit, yanking her by the hair, as if he was shifting an old trunk that was too heavy for him, ignoring the sounds of her scalp beginning to tear away from her skull. As he pulled her across the threshold of the wire cell and collapsed into a sitting position, her hands suddenly flew out and gripped the sides of the cage’s entrance, her eyes clenched tight shut against the agonizing pain in her scalp.

‘I won’t go in there! I won’t!’ she screamed, her pitch so high her words were barely intelligible, her knuckles turning white she gripped the frame. ‘No. No,’ she cried as he jerked at her hair, the intense pain only strengthening her grip on the frame of the cage’s door, fear of sinking into the abyss driving her determination to survive.