An overpowering tension blankets the Campbell's once tranquil home, slowly suffocating everyone inside. It's a feeling Jen can't shake, no matter how many times she tries to reassure herself that Tommy will find their son and that they will return home safe. She even tried to embed the notion in the kid's mind. She repeated that hopeful line throughout the night, until she was nearly hoarse; despite the numerous times she repeated the line, it didn't seem to ease The uneasiness enveloping them. Instead, it started a series of probing questions, reminding Jen of the horrors they may be forced to face.
Bedtime quickly became a nightmare of restless, inconsolable, wide-eyed kids searching for answers. Jen darted from room to room, tucking in blankets, as she reassured them one last time that everything will be alright despite her shaky hands, her trembling lips, and the uncertainty in her eyes.
After what felt like countless trips of running up and down the stairs and tucking and re-tucking their bedding, she was finally able to get the kids settled for the night, her legs aching as if she'd just run a 10k marathon.
Bone-weary, Jen staggers down the stairs as a chilling sensation slowly creeps up her spine. She soon discovers that the house somehow seems heavier, suffocating, as if the horrors from their past could slip through the walls at any given second. Jen tries to push her fear and her anxiety aside, but the terrors continue to hang on.
Jen dawdles to the front room; her steps are a slow shuffle. With a heavy sigh she collapses on the faded, earth-tone couch; the cushions shuffle slightly as she lands. Exhaustion settles into every fiber of her being, surging through every cell, but she knows sleep won't come easy or any time soon, not tonight with her husband and son out wandering around treacherous territory they thought they'd escaped.
The weight of their horrid circumstances relentlessly gnaws at her like a constant growing pain. Jen believes that if she'd taken better care of herself and done what the doctor told her to do, taking her health more seriously, she could've delayed the operation a little while longer. Maybe then, Tommy could've had enough time to collect the money without having to crawl his way back to the life he despised.
We'd still be living in Berryville, surrounded by all our friends, instead of hiding way out here in the middle of the woods like prey hiding from a deadly predator. We wouldn't always be in constant fear for our lives, jumping at every shadow, and I wouldn't be so afraid of the kids going out to play.
The police insisted they're safe, but that's what they claimed at the first safe house, the place that nearly cost them their lives.
A soft humming noise catches her attention. Jen dashes to the corner of the window. Moving the heavy curtains aside, she peeks through the bullet-resistant glass and finds an idling car sitting in front of her house. Jen's breath catches in her throat as she watches the vehicle inch closer to the curb. Jen tightly grips the curtain, nearly pulling it off the wall as the horrors of the past replay in her mind.
Sprinting to the kitchen, Jen skids to a stop at cabinet doors. Pots rattle in the cupboard below her as she jerks the utility drawer open. and grabs the largest, sharpest knife she can find. The weight of the cold, hard steel in her hands gives her a slight boost in confidence. My saving grace, she nervously thinks.
She dashes back to the window and sees that the car has moved further into the shadows, being nearly swallowed by the thick line of trees.
Jen's hands tremble. The tremors quickly surge throughout her body as she stands frozen at the edge of the window paralized with fear, tears streaming down her face. Her breathing is quick and shallow as earth-shattering scenarios play out in her head.
Brushing them away with the back of her hand, Jen tries to conjure up the last bit of courage she can muster. She glances towards the upstairs landing and says, "I have to keep them safe." With unrelenting determination, she forces her legs to move up the stairs.
Bolting from room to room, she checks the two outer doors to find they're locked. Every window was double latched. Her pulse pounds in her ears. She dashes down the steps to make sure the alarm is set. Jen double-checks everything a second time and then a third time, hoping to reassure herself, but the fear refuses to ease.
Breathless and to the point of near collapse, Jen dashes to the window to find the car is still tucked away among the shadows, nearly disappearing among the shadows. Jen's gaze flickers upstairs. She then thinks, Maybe I should move them to the safe room.
She feels a sharp pain spear through her chest, like an elephant has plopped its full weight on top of her. The relentless pressure continues to tighten, making it difficult to breathe. Her vision becomes blurry. Jen then remembers what the doctor said.
A dark, cold fear grips her as the doctor's words replay in her mind, causing the pain to intensify. I don't want to die. She forces herself to take a few deep breaths as she imagines herself gazing across the ocean the way the doctor instructed.
She can feel the sun's rays pelting against her back and hear the seagulls crying as they fly above her. The pain slowly subsides to a dull, tolerable ache.
"I've got to make sure the kids are safe. Taking a few more breaths, she darts towards the hall.
She's halfway up the stairs when a memory slams into her, stopping her mid-step.
Could it be? She questions, replaying a recent conversation in her mind.
With dry, weary eyes, the detective looked up at her and said, "I'll see what I can do about getting an undercover to sit on the house, but I'm not making any promises; with the budget cuts, our resources are spread thin."
Maybe he came through for us.
Dashing down the steps, Jen runs to the widow, the knife still gripped tightly in her hands. She glances out and finds the car is hidden deeper. There's something about the situation that doesn't seem quite right. Then it hits her. The car was an older two-door coupe, not the standard sedan she'd expect to see. The headlights are mismatched, and the vehicle doesn't have a second antenna.
The uneasiness settles around her. The pain in her chest returns, immobilizing her momentarily. She pushes the pain aside. There's only one way to be sure. Taking a few deep breaths, she rushes to the phone and dials 911. A dispatcher answered after the second ring.
"What is your emergency?" A friendly, practiced voice asks across the line.
"Yes, my name is Jenifer Campbell, and I was checking to see if you sent an undercover officer to guard our house."
In a sharp tone, the woman says, "You do realize the number you called is an emergency line, correct?"
Jen's voice wavers. "This situation could be an emergency if the strange car parked outside our house isn't one of you."
The dispatcher's voice shifts. "What is the address, Ms. Campbell?"
"82205 Wilderness Drive."
"Hold on while I check." There's a brief pause before the dispatcher says, "No, ma'am, there isn't an officer assigned to your house tonight."
Jen gazes towards the window to find a tall, beefy man striding across the lawn.
"Well, you'd better send one fast. Her tremors return along with the sharp pain. "Because whoever this is is walking up the drive."
"I'm sending an officer out now. Please stay on the line until help arrives."
She looks out the window again to find the man gone. The horrifying night at the first safe house replays in her mind. The memory sends a chill racing up her spine. She then sees a tall, dark shadow walking towards the back door. "I have to get my kids somewhere safe."