Chevy Stevens - Always Watching

Hours later, when I come back to the commune, my mother asks where I’ve been. I tell her I’ve been at the river. That I split my lip on a rock.

I can’t remember anything else.

Now, I forced my body to relax, to breathe in and out. I was terrified, my legs shaking, but I had to break this down into moments, analyze the situation, and take it step by step. Take some deep breaths. You can get out of here if you keep calm.

Aaron wasn’t coming back for me. He had warned me years ago, and his rage was too great. This time he would let me die. Now that my eyes had adjusted to the dark, I searched for a crack of light at the edges of the lid, but I was just surrounded by blackness and the scent of old horse feed, musty and rancid. My head filled with terrifying memories of freezers being recalled in the seventies because so many children died, and all the warnings to never play in one.

I tried to calculate how much air I had, how long I could live. I knew that if I panted too much, I would use it up faster, so I tried to slow my breathing. I didn’t think I had much time, the air already felt different, my head light and my blood seeming loud in my ears. I tried to accept the fact that there was a very good chance that I was going to die. I thought of my family. What would happen to Lisa? Would she ever know where my body was? Tears leaked from my eyes as I thought of Robbie, wondering if he was also buried somewhere, staring up at a lid, screaming for help. Would death come easy for us? Would we just fall asleep, or die gasping for breath, suffocating in our makeshift graves? Panic surged over me again, rage at my helplessness. I hit up at the lid, an angry shove that got me nowhere. I burst into tears, sobbing in the dark like I had as a child. I pressed my hands to my eyes, took some breaths, and tried to refocus.

I had two choices. Accept my fate, pray that Daniel would realize his father intended to kill me, and somehow overpower both men. Hope that Mary would call the police, that somehow, some way, I’d get lucky and survive this.

My other choice was to die trying to escape.

I bent my knees and, bracing my arms on either side of the freezer, kicked my heels into the wall. It didn’t give. I tried to push against the side walls, the wall behind my head, and the lid. The freezer was solid.

I wondered if I would have more strength if I used my shoulders to push up. Angling my body and trying to double over in the small space, I reached down and braced my hands on the floor of the freezer. Then I reared up as hard as I could, using all the strength of my back. My neck and shoulders were in agony from the blow, my knees throbbed. But I thought I felt a slight give. Could the latch on the lock be rusted? Or maybe the screws that attached it to the freezer?

I pushed up hard again and heard a slight noise, like something might be giving. I pushed up again and again, sweating and grunting with exertion. I took a break, sucking in big gulps of air, scared about how much oxygen I was using, but then the thought: If I’m going to die, at least I’ll die faster.

With the last of my strength, I slammed my back up against the lid, sending a jolt of pain down my spine. Then a louder, tearing sound, a feeling that the lid was loosening, like the lock was giving out. I pushed up again, using everything in my body. A rip of metal as the bolts started to pull out. Now I just had to push a few more times, straining up, almost standing in the small area, until the padlock latch finally tore out, and the lid flipped opened.

I climbed out of the freezer, my back and legs screaming in pain. Hands out, I felt my way around the dark room, stopping to listen for footsteps. Then I was at the door. I’d thought Aaron would’ve blocked it as well, but when I gave a tentative push, it swung open. He obviously hadn’t thought I’d be able to escape.

I crept around the side of the barn, skirting the edge of the forest, keeping the house in sight as I came around behind it. I didn’t know how I was going to get to the vehicles—mine was at the front, but now I also saw a green truck behind the house. It had to be Daniel’s. It looked familiar, and I remembered the truck that slowed down outside my place. Daniel must’ve been keeping an eye on me, maybe trying to protect his father. As I got closer to the house, I heard raised voices. I crouched behind a tree and listened. It sounded like they were fighting. Daniel was angry, saying, “You said you just wanted to talk to them—you didn’t tell me anyone would get hurt. When are you going to let her out?”

Aaron answered, “When the Light says it’s time. She’s not ready.”

Daniel yelled, sounding desperate, “She’s going to die.”

Aaron was talking, his voice lower, like he was trying to calm Daniel, but I couldn’t make out the words. I hoped Joseph was also inside.

Staying low behind the tree, I thought about my plan. I was going to have to get all the away around the house without their spotting me and run to my car. When they heard the car start, they’d come after me, so I had to disable the truck too. Adrenaline gave me strength, narrowing my focus to only this moment as I crawled over, then slowly stood up, peering into the cab of the truck. No keys in the ignition. I’d have to rip out some wires. When voices rose inside the house again, I eased open the truck door, holding my breath as I popped the hood.

There was silence from the house, and I worried they’d heard me, then Daniel started yelling again: “We can’t do this—we can’t let people die.”

I quickly yanked out every wire and hose I could get my hands on. When I was finished, I glanced over at the house and saw Mary by the back door.

She was watching me. We stared at each other. I was sure she was going to call the men, but she just gave a brief nod, then turned and walked back inside.

I ran around the house and climbed into my car, saw the keys dangling from the ignition. I started the car up and began to pull away. Daniel, Joseph, and Aaron came running out of the house. In the rearview mirror I saw Mary grab Daniel’s arm, holding him back. The dogs were also running out, and one dodged in front of the car. I tapped my brakes, trying not to hit it, and swerved on the loose gravel, coming to a stop in front of a tree as I slammed on my brakes. I put the car in reverse.

Motion out of the corner of my eye, and I saw Aaron running toward me. He threw something at my window and I automatically ducked. Glass shattered and a rock hit my arm. Pain shot through me as I gripped the steering wheel and pounded the gas, trying to get around him. Joseph ran in front of the car. The gun in his hand pointed at me.

I hit the brakes, ducked again. Aaron reached his hand through the broken window, punched me hard in the side of the head. I sat stunned as he unlocked my door and put the car in park. I scrambled across the passenger seat, he grabbed at my legs, dragging me. I clung to the steering wheel. Kicked back with all my strength.

Where was Joseph? I glanced to the left. He was still standing in front of the car, the gun aimed at me, waiting for his next command from his brother.

I looked through the rear window, searching for help, an escape, anything. Mary was crying hysterically, hands over her mouth. Daniel was staring transfixed, his face full of horror and panic. And in his hand, he held the other gun.

I yelled out, “Daniel, shoot him. You have to shoot him. Heather loved you. She wouldn’t want you to let this happen.”

Daniel was crying now. The gun rose.

Aaron didn’t turn around. He was still trying to pull me out of the car, so confident in his control over his son.