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By Root 405 0

and ascended the final three stairs. Once on the top landing, he confirmed his suspicion. The bedroom door to the left of the landing was closed. Directly across from the stairs, the bathroom’s door was open. Martin entered and placed the knife in the sink, knowing that he would no longer require it. He then slowly closed the bathroom door, stopping just before the latch engaged with the jamb. Holding it in this position, as he had done the day he’d been caught in Laura’s house with Cujo, Martin turned on the bathroom light, hoping that the high carpeting in the hall would block any residual light filtering into the bedroom through the base of the door. He wanted to give his eyes time enough to adjust to the light before executing his plan. If the light was off in the bedroom (as Martin suspected it was, since no light had shown from any of the upstairs windows), this meant that he might be able to get Darrow to step out of near total darkness into light, which might temporarily blind him.

Martin needed every advantage he could get.

He allowed his eyes thirty seconds to adjust, for his pupils to fully contract. He then opened the bathroom door and moved quietly to the back wall, farthest from the stairs. Positioning himself so that he was facing the stairs, he lifted the log and held it out in front of his chest like a battering ram, and began.

“Sherman? Sophie? Is anyone home? I thought I heard noise.” Martin spoke these words in an airy whisper, attempting to make it sound as if the noise was coming from downstairs. He also spoke in his strange version of Blondie’s Irish accent, for reasons he didn’t understand. It hadn’t been a conscious decision. It just came out that way.

At the sound of his voice, the low tones of Clive Darrow suddenly ceased and Martin heard a louder, inarticulate whine, the type of sound that someone might make if trying to scream through a pillow. This was followed by several thumps and then silence.

He waited.

To calm his exploding nerves, he began running through the ABCs in his head.

A, B, C, D, E, F…

On G, Martin heard the door open. He stopped breathing entirely.

A second later, he saw a hand appear, moving into the frame of the bathroom door, carrying an object that Martin didn’t recognize.

A gun? No, not a gun… flashed through his mind.

A moment later the body of Clive Darrow filled the bathroom doorway, facing away from Martin, peering down the stairway, pointing whatever object he had into the darkness.

It was time.

Martin moved. Plunging forward as fast and hard as possible, he used four running strides to exit the bathroom and collide with Clive Darrow’s body. Darrow must have realized that something was wrong a second before the log struck the back of his head. The intruder had begun to turn, perhaps realizing that the light he had seen was spilling out from behind him or perhaps hearing Martin’s feet on the bathroom tile. But the intruder only made it far enough around to catch his right cheek and nose on the log as it came crashing into his head.

Before his attack, Martin had already decided that he would finish this job no matter the cost. Leave no room for error. He knew that the log might not be enough, so following the collision of wood on skull, Martin released the log from his grasp and leaped into the air, maintaining his forward progress and bringing his arms around the powerfully built man. Martin’s forward momentum, combined with Clive Darrow’s wobbling legs, thrust the two of them down the stairs and into darkness. The two men toppled over and down the steps like rag dolls, body parts colliding with the stairs, railing, banister, the log (which had become entangled between them), and each other. Martin’s body ended up passing over Darrow’s, turning Martin backward and upside down as he struggled to maintain his grip on the intruder. His forehead struck the railing violently and he felt his right knee come crashing down on the edge of a step, followed by the sickening sensation of something popping inside. A moment later, Martin’s body connected with the floor