Pushed To The Edge

As the sun began to set on the barren, frost covered trees lining either side of the highway–Chandler Wagner’s blue 2017 Audi SUV dashed through the EZ Pass toll lane crossing into New Hampshire. Chandler Wagner was at the wheel while his girlfriend, Tara Daves, rode shotgun.

“Jesus. It felt like we were going through Massachusetts forever,” Chandler remarked to Tara.

               “Well we were because you always neglect to pay attention to where you’re going,” Tara shot back.  

“I apologized. You know I have a lot on my mind after the way this case went last week.”

               “You always have a lot on your mind Chandler!”

               “I know. I’m sorry. Ok? You forgive me?”

               “It’s fine,” Tara said without bothering look over at him.

A lawyer friend of Chandler’s had introduced him to Tara two years earlier. Although they had gotten along well initially, Chandler was never able to live up to Tara’s towering expectations.

In Tara’s heart she meant well but was never able to express herself as eloquently as she had hoped. She’d come to see Chandler as weak and afraid to stand up for himself. Her father was also always putting him down which tainted her view of Chandler. She’d hoped that Chandler would change for the better as his career got going, but the opposite seemed to be happening.

Although Chandler was a top student in law school, his career had hit more valleys than peaks. Chandler feared confrontation which was a fatal flaw for a lawyer practicing criminal law. His colleagues had noticed early on and had slowly pushed Chandler to the back. He had mostly been given cases his colleagues deemed “unwinnable” in recent months.

               “When was the last time you were up at this cabin?” Tara asked. Breaking the silence as they sped down the near empty highway.

               “I was about ten years old so 20 years ago give or take,” he answered back.

               “What does your uncle do with it now?” Tara asked curiously.

               “He used it as a hunting cabin most of the time, but I don’t think he’s been up to it much since he stopped hunting a few years ago.”

               “Well it better be clean,” Tara replied curtly.

               “Yes princess,” Chandler muttered under his breath so quietly he could barely hear it himself.

               “What did you say?” Tara beamed turning towards Chandler for the first time in an hour.

               “Nothing. If it’s not clean we’ll go to a hotel”

               “That’s what I thought,” Tara chided.

After what felt like an eternity of silence, Chandler’s GPS barked that the exit for the cabin was approaching. By the time Chandler got off the highway and carefully maneuvered his vehicle through the narrow, winding back roads of New Hampshire–it looked like someone had turned the lights off in the small town of Acworth.

Chandler vaguely remembered the town, but still needed the guidance of his GPS to find the street.

“There it is,” Chandler declared as he pointed to a weathered street sign bearing the name Black Lake Dr.

“Oh, it just sounds lovely,” Tara groaned.

Chandler turned onto the street and cautiously made the three-mile drive to the end, only passing a handful of other houses as he drove. Neither Chandler nor Tara seemed to notice the small snowflakes falling onto the windshield as they sped along.  

Finally getting to the end of the street, Chandler immediately recognized his uncle’s log cabin. It was smaller than he remembered. Although the surrounding brush was mostly dead and barren, it was evident that his uncle had not kept up with the landscaping. It looked like his uncle had not kept up with much at all actually.

“You have got to be kidding me. This is it?” Tara hissed.

“So, he let it go a bit. I’m sure the inside is fine. We’re not moving in. We’re just staying for the weekend,” Chandler countered.

“Look. I know you planned this weekend so we could bond or whatever, but this isn’t going to do it. I can’t stay in a place like this.”

“Let’s just go inside and check it out. If you hate it, we’ll leave. Ok?” Chandler pleaded.

“Ok fine. If you insist. But I won’t like it,” Tara spat as she hurriedly undid her seatbelt.

As they walked up the staircase and onto the porch towards the front door, the wilted wooden deck began creaking under them, sounding like it was going to collapse at any second.

Chandler slid the key into the front door lock and turned it. Nothing. He tried again. Nothing. Using most of the strength he had in his skinny body, he pushed on the door while turning the key and finally felt the lock release.

“Just needed a little strength,” Chandler declared proudly.

“I didn’t know you had any of that,” Tara shot back rolling her eyes.

Chandler crawled his hand along the wall hunting for a light switch until he finally found one. After a few flickers, a small overhead light came to life revealing the inside of the cabin.

They both eagerly scanned the cabin as their eyes adjusted to the light. A worn leather couch, a plaid covered armchair and a card table were the only visible furniture. A small woodstove sat in the middle of the room. To the left was a small kitchen with a fridge that looked like it was from the turn of the century. To the right was a bunkbed positioned in the middle of the room.

               “Where’s the bathroom?” Tara beamed.

               “Oh. Did I forget to tell you about the outhouse?”

               “Is this a sick joke? Did my friends pay you to do this to me?” Tara shouted as she stared at Chandler.

               “Ok. I’ll admit it’s not what I remembered. It’s definitely not The Plaza.”

“The fact that you would bring me up here shows you know nothing about me. I wouldn’t let my dog sleep here. This is the most selfish thing you’ve ever done. Are you trying to get me to break up with you?” Tara snapped

“No of course not. I just thought…”

“You just thought wrong like always! All you do is screw up Chandler. I should’ve listened to my father about you. He always says you’re hopeless and weak. I just didn’t want to see it. I can’t believe I let myself get this far with you. What a waste of time.”

“Please don’t say that. It hasn’t been a waste of time. I want to make this work,” Chandler pleaded

“I don’t care what you want. Take me home now!” She commanded.

“Ok” was all Chandler was able to eke out. The little confidence and hope Chandler had disappeared in that moment. Drained out of him. He knew their relationship was likely over and he felt totally defeated. Like usual, he didn’t have the nerve to defend himself.

As they walked out of the cabin in silence, their eyes diverted to the snowfall that had occurred while they were inside. Chandler’s SUV was covered in a thick blanket of snow. The snow had quickly picked up and dumped several inches down at an alarming rate.

“I didn’t know it was supposed to snow,” Chandler remarked nervously as he pulled out his phone to check the weather.

Things quickly went from bad to worse as he pulled up the weather forecast on his phone. There was 14 inches of snow coming in the next six hours with temperatures dropping below zero. No way he could make the 5-hour drive back home to New York in that weather. With the closest hotel being over an hour away, they were stuck.

“I can’t drive in this. My car is good in the snow, but the visibility is near zero and it’s going to freeze up. We have to cut back down through the mountain roads that surely won’t be plowed,” Chandler said to Tara as they stood on the deck.

“Of course. You probably knew this would happen. Figured we’d have no other choice but to work on our issues being snowed in together,” She cried.

“That’s ridiculous. I had no idea it was going to snow. I swear!”

“Fine. We’ll stay here only until it slows down a bit. As soon as it does, you’re driving me home.”

“I promise I will,” Chandler muttered as he turned to walk back inside the cabin with Tara following.

Tara sat in the armchair looking disgusted as Chandler sat on the couch. He had looked for firewood initially in vain. He didn’t know how to start a fire anyways. A meat freezer would have been warmer than that cabin was.

There was no television in the cabin, only a battery powered radio that looked like it hadn’t been turned on in 20 years. With no service on his phone and Tara refusing to speak to him, Chandler grabbed the radio praying it would turn on. It did. After playing around with the antenna for a minute, he heard the female voice of what sounded to be a local newscaster in the middle of an announcement.

“Dwayne Randall Harrison is considered to be armed and extremely dangerous. He is currently serving life at Levington Maximum Security Prison for a brutal home invasion he committed in 2003 leaving 3 people dead,” The voice boomed.

“Again. Emergency alert for all New Hampshire residents. Harrison escaped 4 hours ago after killing a guard and has not been seen since. He’s believed to be on foot and last seen heading into the woods behind the prison. Please lock your doors and call the police if you see him,” the voice alerted before a Meineke Muffler add came on.

Tara looked over at Chandler and stammered “That better be far away,” through chattering teeth.

“I don’t have service so I can’t check. I’m sure it’s on the other side of the state,” he suggested trying to calm her and himself down.

Tara dove into her phone and began typing furiously.

               “Oh my god! That’s three miles away from here,” she screamed as the blood drained from her fact.

Chandler didn’t have the words to respond as he felt the chill of terror crawl up his spine. After a few moments of horrified silence, they were both starting to gain some color back when the back door of the cabin burst open.

Before either of them could make a move, a hulking beast of a man was standing in the doorway donning a bright orange jumpsuit. His bald head a bright cherry red from the cold. The words “Fearless” tattooed in big block letters across his throat. A shotgun hanging low, but ready in his big meaty hand.

“Mind If I join?” He bellowed at them before laughing like a maniac.

The large figure crossed the room and made it within feet of both Tara and Chandler in what looked like two steps. He looked over at Tara as a wide smile spread across his scarred face.

               “On you a pretty gal ain’t ya? Name’s Dwayne. What’s yours, sunshine?”

               “Oh my god. You’re the guy that escaped from prison. Of course, you’d come here,” Tara stammered.

               “Dwayne Harrison at your service pretty lady. This your boyfriend or something?” He said, turning to Chandler as the smile left his face.

               “Yes I am. I happen to be a lawyer. Whatever you’ve done I can help you as long as you don’t hurt us. That’s all I’m asking.” Chandler blurted out.

               “Oh, a lawyer. I just love your type,” the massive convict said before raising up the shotgun and cracking it across Chandler’s forehead.

Chandler’s forehead immediately tore open as he fell over onto the couch losing consciousness. A thick river of blood began to pour out of the open wound and down his face.

Tara screamed in horror as Dwayne struck Chandler.

“I hate when people tell me what to do!” Dwayne screamed down at Chandler

The large felon took a few steps back and looked around the room. He seemed to somehow grow even larger since making his sudden entrance.

Chandler began to regain consciousness seconds later and started groaning in pain. His face was nearly covered in blood although the bleeding had slowed. Definitely a wound that would need stitches. The first time he ever got stiches in his life.

“You got a car?” Dwayne yelled at nobody in particular.

“Yes, we do. Outside. You can have it. Just leave us alone!” Tara cried.  

Another creepy psychotic smile came across Dwayne’s face as he crept to within inches of Tara’s face. He ran his hands through her hair as she looked on in horror. As he got towards the end of her hair, he abruptly pulled it while he jerked his face even closer.  

“Why would I leave you pretty?” The stench of his breath hitting Tara in the face like a brick.

“I need you. I need both of you. Every cop in the state is looking for old Dwayne Harrison. Say they come across me. I need a few bargaining tools, don’t I?” He said laughing.

Chandler began to sit up as he slowly regained his vision. Touching his hand to the top of his head and bringing it back to his face, he was horrified to see it colored a deep crimson red. Chandler felt nauseous and began to feel faint as he sat up.

 “Aw, look who’s decided to join us again. The good for nothing boyfriend who can’t even defend his girlfriend from an old convict like me,” Dwayne gushed at he examined his handiwork on Chandler’s face.

Still trying to see clearly, Chandler reached into his coat pocket and felt around until he found his Audi keys. Taking them our and holding his hand up to Dwayne.

        “I spent every dollar I have on that car. It’s yours. I have nothing else to give you. Please take it and leave us here. I promise we won’t call the police.”

The hulking man snatched the keys out of Chandler’s trembling hand and shoved them into the pants pocket of his state issued jumpsuit. What he did next made Chandler’s stomach drop. In one swooping motion, Dwayne ripped the left sleeve off of his jumpsuit. He then proceeded to tear it into two separate pieces.

               “Thanks for the gift boy, but it’s not enough. Like I said to your better half. I need both of you with me in case I get caught. Dwayne’s not going back to prison no matter how many people I need to kill.”

Dwayne threw one piece of the former shirt sleeve to Tara.

         “Tie him up hunny,” he barked at her, “and make sure it’s tight or else”.

Tara did as she was told and tied the tattered sleeve so tightly around Chandler’s wrists, he began to lose feeling in them after a minute.

          “Very nice,” Dwayne muttered as he examined Chandler’s hands.

With the other half of the sleeve in his hand, Dwayne ordered Tara to turn around and tied her hands around her back tightly as well.  

               “When the snow slows down a bit, we’re blowing out of here,” Dwayne said as he looked through the window.

“Are you going to kill us?” Tara asked nervously.

“Likely. Sorry hun,” Dwayne shot back without blinking an eye.

Chandler sat up and steadied himself against the front of the couch, resting his hands against it. Chandler rarely if ever got angry, but something inside of him snapped when he heard Dwayne say he was going to kill them like he was taking out the garbage. All the anger Chandler should have felt in his life over the last few years suddenly began to appear. He started to sweat. He became enraged.

Looking around the room for any sign of hope, Chandler saw a heavy glass ash tray with the New Hampshire state seal emblazoned on it. Chandler’s brain began to work rapidly.

As he laid back against the couch, he began to grind the cloth holding his hands together against the fabric of the couch. Firmly, but cautiously. Chandler had developed a rage and determination he had never felt before.

He continued to grind his hands against the couch, feeling the fabric began to wear and split.

“I think I left the lights on my SUV on when we came inside. You better go check them, so the battery doesn’t die Mr. Harrison,” Chandler said in a monotone voice as he stared a hole through Dwayne.

“Stupid kid,” Dwayne muttered as he grabbed the keys out of his pants pocket, opened the door and went out to check the car letting his guard down for a minute.

The second Dwayne left the cabin, Chandler flexed his arms and tore his hands free easily. Jumping to his feet, he walked over to the table and picked up the ashtray. Chandler then stood just inside the front door with a blank look on his face.

“What are you doing?” Tara frantically whispered. “You’re going to get us killed!”

“Shut up,” was all Chandler said.

Moments later, Dwayne came strolling in.

        “Dumb kid, the lights were…”

Before he could finish, Chandler cracked the ashtray against the back of his skull violently. Dwayne dropped straight to the ground groaning in pain. He rolled over with a stunned look on his face trying to form a sentence.

Before Dwayne could get another word out, Chandler demolished the front of his face without another crushing blow with the ashtray, instantly knocking Dwayne unconscious.

Chandler didn’t stop.

Again, and again he struck Dwayne, a red mist spraying with each blow. The rage seething inside him.

Chandler eventually stopped when you Dwayne’s face looking like raw hamburger. He reached down and ripped the keys from Dwayne’s limp hand.

“Get up. We’re leaving,” was all he set to Tara as he felt the energy stream through him, feeling reborn.