Cliff Hanger

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  • Published: 13 May 2015
  • Updated: 18 May 2015
  • Status: Complete
6307200 crimes are recorded in the UK every year. This is one every five seconds. They happen all over the country. From London to Cardiff; from Cornwall to Glasgow. Most are never solved. But what if they were all connected - what if there was something, someone, tying them together?

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1. Sarah

Sarah ran towards the high wooden fence at a speed that would do some serious damage if she lost her nerve and crashed. 30 paces....

20 paces.....

10paces.....

Sarah jumped. Splinters dug into the tips of her fingers as she scrambled to get a good hold. Bracing her foot against the fence to keep balance, she hung there for a few moments before hauling herself over this infernal fence. It would have been easier to hide behind the Bentley at the front of the house, but it was best not to take the chance of being seen. Not with what she had come here to do tonight.  

            It was a nice house in the suburbs of the city. Quiet. Calm. The house of a sweet family about to be ripped apart – and a murderer about to die. Sarah didn’t care that killing this man would make her as bad as him. He had killed...

She couldn’t even think his name. It was too painful, even after two months. The police had done nothing. In fairness, there had been little to go on, but they should have tried harder!

 

            Sarah steeled herself for the drop into the shrubbery. She took three deep breaths and –

A cat yowled somewhere close by. Sarah fell. Thankfully, she had landed on the right side of the fence. Sarah cursed under her breath as she inspected the cuts on her hands from the rose bush. She had to be the world’s worst assassin. But she didn’t care. Just so long as that monster suffered.

***

            Two hours later, she was still squatting in the bushes. Sarah had watched that man having dinner with his family, then watched as he kissed his three children on the head and sent them off to bed. Children he would never see again. He had sat with his wife, drinking a glass of wine and reading, before finally going to bed. The wife stayed downstairs and washed the glasses before she followed him. Sarah didn’t know what time it was. It felt late, judging by her heavy eyes and the sub-zero temperature. Suddenly Sarah was wide awake. All the lights in the house were off. She waited for another twenty minutes to make sure that everyone was asleep, then ran towards the house.

            Sarah lay down by the basement window and pulled out the window prop the black haired girl at B&Q had found for her. She had been to the house twice before. Once to work out how to get in, next to make sure that the way in stayed open. The window was small, almost too small, but she managed to squeeze through.

Sarah dropped to the floor silently and looked around. The door to the rest of the house stood at the far end of the room. She rushed up the small steps towards it and peered out. There was no one in the kitchen where the door opened. Sarah passed the knife rack and looked for the knife that would cause the most pain. It was a precaution she had picked up from “CSI: Miami”. Gloves for fingerprints and use a weapon already at the crime scene. Much harder to trace.

            The bread knife. That would do nicely. The serrated edge gleamed in the moonlight as she drew it. It was light and felt good in her hand. Sarah made her way out the kitchen and was about to go up the stairs when she stopped. The door keys were glinting in a bowl by the door. With a click, Sarah unlocked the front door. It would make it easier to get away later. Sarah smiled to herself and started up the stairs.

***

            The master bedroom was the last at the end of the landing. The door was slightly ajar and did not take much persuading to open fully without a creek. She padded into the room and winced as a floorboard creaked beneath her. Sarah froze as the man turned in his bed. But he just let out a snore and settled back down. Sarah padded over to the bed. She thought about killing the wife for good measure, but Sarah couldn’t leave the kids alone in the world, even if their father had done that to her.

Sarah stood over the monster that slept under a flowery duvet. But here, he was just a man. A trickle of drool fell from his mouth. Flabby arms sprawled over his side of the bed and an overly groomed foot poked out the end of the bed. He was just a man. Sarah faltered. Could she do this?

Yes.

An iron grip closed around Sarah’s heart. This man had killed the person most precious to her and when she told the police, they simply dismissed it as the ramblings of a heart broken girl. But it was him. He had done it. He deserved to whatever place in hell was reserved for creatures like him. Sarah lifted the knife.

          

          

              

 

 

 

        

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