Something Missing_ A Novel - Matthew Dicks [116]
For a moment, Martin thought about cutting the cords that bound Sherman Pearl’s wrists and ankles, in case the man regained consciousness, but quickly decided against it. Martin had entered this house knowing that Sophie Pearl’s life was in imminent danger. His Hedgehog Concept was perfectly clear. Rescue Sophie Pearl.
There was not a moment to waste.
At the landing, Martin paused to look up the stairs. The second floor was dark. There were bedrooms to the left and right of the stairway and a bathroom directly opposite the stairs. He could still hear the faint sound of a male voice, emanating from the left of the landing, leading him to believe that the door to the Pearls’ bedroom was probably closed.
This was both good and bad.
A closed door meant that Martin’s ascent of the stairs would likely go undetected, but it also meant that surprising the intruder would be much more difficult. Had Martin been able to creep into the darkened bedroom undetected, he could have landed at least a couple of good blows on Darrow’s head before the man had a chance to respond. But if he had to open the bedroom door first, his opportunity for surprise would be seriously compromised.
Martin ascended the stairs as slowly and quietly as possible, regardless of the probable closed door. As he took each step, he desperately tried to formulate a plan. In his entire life, Martin had been in exactly one fight, and he had won. When he was in ninth grade, several seniors had grabbed him and another kid named Paul, brought them into an empty classroom, and instructed them to fight like two roosters in a cock fight. Martin had thought that their demand was lunacy and refused until one of the larger seniors, Eddie Meeres, landed a punch in Martin’s gut, knocking the wind out of him for a full minute. “Fight or we beat you up ourselves,” Martin was told. Not wanting the same treatment, Paul lifted his fists and charged at Martin, swinging in desperation. Martin dodged the first few punches until Paul managed to land a right hook on Martin’s jaw. He could remember seeing stars for a moment as he wobbled back and forth, marveling at the reality behind what he had previously seen only in cartoons. An instant later, a rage that Martin had never known consumed him, and he charged at his opponent with fists flying. Eventually it took three seniors to pull Martin off the boy whose nose and lips were bloody and raw.
Martin still regretted that momentary loss of control, born from fear and anger, and since that day he had never committed another act of violence. Now he had a piece of lumber in one hand and a knife in the other, and the only question was how he was going to use them.
It was Martin’s near disastrous fall that brought him the answer.
Three steps from the top landing, with his mind consumed in thought, Martin missed a step. Rather than coming down on the next stair, his foot caught the front of the step and slipped back down, causing him to stumble backward. Reaching out with the hand in possession of the knife, Martin managed to grasp the wooden railing, but as he did, the knife momentarily slipped from his grasp. He reached out and was able to pin the blade between his palm and the railing, preventing it from falling, but in doing so he was forced to grab hold of the sharp side of the blade, slicing through the surgical glove and cutting his palm open down the middle.
With his adrenaline at epic heights, he barely felt any pain.
Once steadied, Martin froze, listening for any signs that his near fall had been heard inside the bedroom. He could still hear a man’s voice, speaking on and on but in what sounded like whispers. Threatening, ominous whispers. And he could hear something else now too. Whimpering. The soft, quiet cry of a woman in trouble.
It was at that moment that Martin, suddenly recalling Jim’s lateral-thinking puzzle about the burglar who fell down the stairs and broke his leg in the midst of a robbery, knew exactly what needed to be done.
As quietly as possible, he regained his grip on the knife