Chapter 9 - The Backyard Well
The rain had turned into a steady, freezing downpour by the time Arthur and Miller dragged Samuel out onto the back patio. The beam of the deputy’s flashlight cut through the sheets of water, illuminating the overgrown lawn and the old stone well located fifty feet from the back deck.
The heavy wooden cover of the well had been shoved aside, revealing a gaping black abyss that smelled faintly of stagnant water and rotting wood.
Arthur dropped to his knees at the edge of the stone ring, ignoring the mud soaking through his jeans. He leaned over the dark opening, cupping his hands around his mouth. "Maya! Maya, can you hear me?!"
Only the echo of his own voice bounced back up from the depths, followed by the faint, rhythmic dripping of water hitting stone far below.
"She’s not down there," Miller said, his flashlight beam scanning the perimeter of the well. He pointed toward a set of tiny, muddy footprints leading away from the stone ring and straight toward the dense treeline of the state forest bordering their property. "She went into the woods."
Samuel stood handcuffed against the patio railing, his head tilted at an unnatural angle as he watched them with quiet amusement. "The woods don't belong to you, Arthur. They belong to the forest service. And to Thomas."
Arthur stood up so fast his vision blurred. He grabbed Samuel by the front of his jumpsuit, lifting him slightly off his feet. "If she is hurt, I swear to God I will leave you in that well and let the winter freeze take you."
Samuel didn't flinch. He smiled, a streak of dark blood slipping from the corner of his mouth. "You’re looking for the wrong person, Arthur. Look at the deputy’s badge."
Arthur paused, his fists clenched against the fabric. He slowly turned his head to look at Miller.
May you like
The deputy was standing by the edge of the well, his service weapon drawn again—not pointed at Samuel, but leveled directly at Arthur’s chest.
---
