The Absence of Screams: A Thriller

  The Absence of Screams

  Ben Follows

  1

  A wave of heat hit Marcus as he stepped inside the pub, steadying himself against the doorframe to give his shaking legs a break. The leaves outside were beginning to change color, but Marino's Pub seemed to think it was the dead of winter in Antarctica.

  He closed the door and breathed in the scent of dollar store candles. A cheap radio played static-ridden 70’s songs. The tables were faux wood and wobbled when anyone leaned too heavily on them. Cheap liquor was displayed on the wall behind the bar.

  Marcus looked around the bar. He had followed the car from the house down the street. He knew the person he was looking for was here somewhere. Just as he began to think she had snuck out the back, his eyes settled on the hunched over woman at the bar. He smiled and made his way over to the bar, trying to look casual. He sat a few seats down from his target.

  “How’s it going?” said the bartender. Her name tag identified her as Beth. She was a broad-shouldered woman who could easily have doubled as a bouncer. A cigarette hung from her lips despite the "No Smoking" sign hanging directly above her head.

  Marcus adjusted his legs in front of the barstool. He hadn't walked this much in years.

  He ordered a beer, which Beth dropped in front of him. He took a sip and scrunched up his face. It was room temperature.

  "Do you have anything cold?" he asked.

  Beth cleaned a glass and placed it in the sink. "Tell management to buy me a new fridge and you'll get a cold beer."

  Marcus pushed back the bottle. "I'm not paying for this."

  Beth shrugged and dumped it down the sink.

  Marcus kept glancing at his target, the only other person at the bar. She was a middle-aged woman with curly blonde hair. She wore a wrinkled white t-shirt, jeans and sneakers. She was leaning over the bar and scrolling through her phone. Her hair made a curtain around her face.

  She looked up and raised her glass of cheap whiskey. Her nose was slightly off-center.

  "You must not be from around here," she said. "This place is all about the liquor."

  Marcus turned to Beth. "Get me whatever she's having. Do you have a menu?"

  Beth got him his drink and a menu. He ordered a burger and passed the menu back.

  The woman smirked at him. “You look like you've had a rough day."

  Marcus eyed her. He hadn't expected her to initiate the conversation. This was going to be easier than he thought.

  “I've had a rough life," he said.

  She nodded. “I could say the same.”

  Marcus had an urge to tackle her to ground right then and dig his fingers into her throat. Instead, he nodded and sipped his drink. He looked away from her and watched the hockey game on the screens above the bar.

  “I’m Tatiana," said a voice beside him.

  The woman had moved to the barstool beside him and was holding out a hand. She had left her purse and empty glass at her prior seat.

  Beth placed a new drink in front of her without needing to be asked.

  “I'm Paul.” Marcus shook her hand, making up a name on the spot. He was shocked she was talking to him, as if she knew who he was. "Are you from around here?" he said, trying to make casual conversation.

  “I live here in Harper's Mill. Don't hold it against me." She laughed and sipped at the whiskey. “I live on a farm down the road. It's a ten-minute walk.”

  “That's nice.” His heart was beating in his chest.

  “Thanks.” Tatiana took a sip of her whiskey. "Been having a rough time recently."

  Marcus nodded. "What's that?"

  Tatiana sighed. “I don't want to push my problems onto you."

  "What's wrong?"

  Tatiana sighed and downed her whiskey. "Sometimes I wonder how my life would have turned out if I'd left when I turned eighteen.”

  Marcus frowned, becoming convinced she knew who he was and was messing with him.

  “What would you have done differently?" he said.

  “I went to Manhattan for a summer job once. I was part of the tech crew for a production of Hamlet. Cities are mostly the same. In Manhattan, though, it seems impossible to ever get lonely.”

  “Harper's Mill isn't like that?"

  Tatiana shook her head. “Not at all.”

  "Why don't you leave?" said Marcus, feeling like he was getting close. "What's stopping you?"

  Tatiana reached back to her previous stool and grabbed her wallet from her purse. She took a few photos from one of the card slots.

  “These are my twin boys." She handed him a small picture.

  Marcus took it tentatively. The picture depicted two boys, under the age of five, formally dressed and sitting in front of a Christmas tree. There was no mistaking they were Tatiana's children.

  “Couldn't the father take of them if you wanted to go somewhere?” said Marcus, trying to come up with anything to keep the conversation going.

  Tatiana laughed. “They wouldn’t last one week without me. Charles is a great guy and he loves the kids, but he’s not a family man."

  “Why don't you take a vacation?” Marcus's sentence trailed off.

  There was another picture stuck beneath the pictures of the boys. He didn't think Tatiana had meant to give it to him.

  He moved the top picture away, revealing a picture of a teenage girl in a graduation gown and cap, holding flowers in front of her. She had dark hair and a pointed chin.

  Marcus stared at the picture, his mouth open in shock. A decade of emotions he'd pushed down as far as it would go threatened to come to the surface. All the terrible things he'd done were in pursuit of finding this girl, who had been wrenched away from him on that fateful night eleven years earlier, the worst night of Marcus's life.

  “That’s my older daughter,” said Tatiana, following his gaze. “That photo was taken at her high school graduation a few years ago. She’s applying to colleges. She wants to go into television production." She looked up at Marcus and frowned. "Are you okay?”

  “What do you mean?” He couldn't tear his eyes from the photo. He knew he had to act casual, but seeing how Danielle had grown up was too much for him.

  “You look pale," said Tatiana.

  “I’m feeling a bit sick.” He clutched the counter with one hand and gave her back the pictures. His legs trembled, no matter how much he willed them to stop. “I need to get going."

  He dumped a handful of random change onto the counter to pay for the whiskey and the burger which Beth was putting on the counter.

  Marcus stumbled into the parking lot.

  He grabbed onto the roof of a car to stabilize himself.

  “Paul? Are you okay?” said Tatiana.

  Marcus looked up, taking a moment to remember his fake name. Tatiana was standing beside him.

  “Yeah,” he said. “I’m fine. I'll get a room at the motel.”

  "Are you sure?"

  "I'm sure," said Marcus, nodding. He pushed off the car and stood up straight. "It was nice meeting you."

  He turned and walked towards the motel adjacent to the pub. He glanced back once to see if Tatiana was still watching him, and saw her duck back inside.

  He stopped and straightened. He looked around and found a dark, dimly lit corner. He sat down on the sidewalk and leaned against the wall.

  He waited in that corner for what seemed like an impossibly long time, constantly worrying that Tatiana would realize who he was and sneak out the back. He couldn't risk checking his phone. It was sitting in his pocket, switched off. He was sure that Angela had a way of tracking him, and he knew she would mess this up.

  Tatiana was one of the people who had taken his heart from
him eleven years earlier, and she was going to pay for it.

  2

  Just when the moon was high in the sky and Marcus was about to give up, Tatiana stepped out of the bar, alone. She looked around, her eyes passing right over the dim corner where Marcus was hiding.

  She left the parking lot and walked along the side of the road. Marcus pushed himself to a standing position and followed her, keeping a steady distance behind her.

  The walk was about a mile past endless fields of wheat, blowing gently in the wind. Marcus stayed close to the wheat, ready to use it for cover if Tatiana looked back, but she never did. She stumbled a few times, but was always able to regain her footing.

  She turned into a long driveway which led to a two-story blue house. A red pickup truck was parked by the front door. The lights were on inside the house.

  Tatiana suddenly stopped. Marcus froze. He didn't want to move and give away his position.

  Tatiana looked back for just a moment, her face concealed by shadows, then broke into a sprint toward the house, her purse swinging behind her.

  Marcus cursed. Somehow, she knew he was there. He couldn't risk her having recognized him. He erupted from his hiding place and sprinted after her, all attempts at secrecy gone.

  Tatiana tripped, falling onto the grass beside the driveway. Even with his legs in the state they were, Marcus was able to catch up to her.

  "No, please," shouted Tatiana, "What do you want?"

  She managed to roll over onto her back. Marcus climbed on top of her and pinned her wrists to the ground. He panted and looked down at her.

  Tatiana frowned. "Paul? What the hell are you doing here?"

  Marcus took a few deep breaths, trying to recover. She hadn't known who he was, just that someone was following her. Maybe she was just paranoid.

  "I've been looking for you for a long time," said Marcus. "You're going to jail for what you did."

  Tatiana didn't seem to know what he was talking about for a moment, then her eyes opened wide. "Oh my God, you're Marcus Devereaux."

  "Yes, I'm Marcus Devereaux," gasped Marcus. "You're going to jail."

  Tatiana sighed, seeming to resign herself to her fate. "It wasn't supposed to happen like that. I think about that night every day."

  "Why didn't you turn yourself in? Why didn't you bring back my daughter?"

  Tatiana struggled against Marcus's grip, but wasn't able to get any leverage. She met Marcus's gaze. "I never said I regretted it," she said as she struggled. "I would spend a thousand years in jail if it meant getting Danielle away from that toxic house."

  Marcus frowned. "What are you talking about?"

  In his peripherals, Marcus saw someone walk past the window in the house. He jerked his head up, wondering if he'd just seen his daughter.

  Tatiana kneed him in the groin.

  Marcus clenched over in pain, losing his grip on her wrists. He fell to one side, cursing himself for getting distracted.

  By the time he managed to get up onto his feet, Tatiana was running away, purse in one hand. She held her phone in the other

  Marcus took a deep breath, wincing, and stood.

  He looked back at the house, then at Tatiana.

  He began running, his steps uneven and his ankles wobbling as he ran.

  Tatiana kept looking back at him, sweat running down her face.

  Marcus was gaining on her. He stumbled and looked down, fearing he had sprained his ankle, but managed to keep running.

  Tatiana held her phone to her ear.

  “Marcus Devereaux is here," she screamed into the phone. "He knows about Danielle. Get out!”

  Tatiana hit a rock with her toe and stumbled forward, losing her balance. The phone flew from her hand and bounced along the grass toward Marcus. She fell forward, throwing her arms in front of her.

  She grunted as she hit the ground.

  Marcus closed the distance between them.

  She looked over her shoulder. The phone lay on the ground a few feet away.

  Tatiana glanced at it for a moment, then stood.

  She looked back at Marcus, then at the house, then at the wheat. She turned and ran into the wheat, apparently deciding it was her best chance to lose him.

  Marcus ran into the wheat, the wheat snapping back and hitting his face.

  He lost sight of her, but could watch the tops of the wheat moving to determine her location.

  The wheat became still.

  Marcus stared at where she had stopped.

  He walked through the wheat as quietly as he could.

  When he was within a few feet of where Tatiana had last been, he jumped through the air like a tiger launching at its prey.

  The wheat smacked against his face and pieces went into his eyes and mouth. He felt the warmth of Tatiana's body and saw the white of her ripped shirt.

  She screamed and spun away from him, falling backwards.

  He grabbed onto her leg as she fell.

  They fell to the ground. The stalks of wheat crunched underneath them like fall leaves.

  Tatiana grunted as she landed. She tried to crawl away but Marcus grabbed her leg, and began pulling himself up her body. She screamed and kicked at him with her other leg.

  She hit him in the face and chest, but couldn't get any power behind it. She clawed at the wheat, trying to crawl away.

  "You killed my wife!" Marcus screamed. "You kidnapped my daughter!"

  She screamed.

  "You destroyed my life!" he screamed at her.

  Marcus got his whole body on top of her.

  "Please don't kill me," pleaded Tatiana.

  "Tell me who you called!" whispered Marcus into her ear.

  Two lights illuminated the wheat field and sounds of an engine came from the direction of the house.

  Marcus spun, listening for the sounds, keeping his forearm on Tatiana's neck. He looked back through the swaying wheat.

  The battered red pickup truck rocketed past. There were two women in the front seats.

  The woman in the passenger seat met Marcus's eyes for a moment.

  His knees felt weak and tears appeared in his eyes. She had the same wide blue eyes as Cassandra and the same pointed chin he saw in the mirror every morning.

  Then they were gone, pulling onto the road and driving into the distance. For the second time, Marcus watched his daughter disappear.

  After a moment, he managed to pull himself together and look back down at Tatiana.

  "Where are they going?" he screamed.

  She mumbled something into the dirt. He pulled her head back up by her hair so he could hear.

  Tatiana gasped. "Do you think Danielle wants anything to do with you? After what you put her through?”

  Marcus grabbed her neck, his rage consuming him. His thumbs dug into her windpipe. Tatiana's breaths became strained and her eyes began bulging.

  “Where are they going?" he said.

  Tatiana, despite the fingers digging in to her windpipe, laughed. “Nice to see your legs work, Marcus.”

  “Say it," said Marcus. "Where is she?”

  “Getting a little red-faced, Marcus," she gagged as Marcus's fingers dug into her windpipe. "What would your supporters say if they knew you can walk? What if I went on television and told them your entire charity is a sham and we never paralyzed you at all? You're just a lying, manipulative, piece of shit.”

  “Where is my daughter?”

  “You’ll never find her," Tatiana struggled to say. "She knows everything and wants nothing to do with you.”

  “You lying bitch!" Marcus shouted. "She would have found me.”

  Tatiana's arms and legs began flailing as the breath vacated her body.

  “Where did she go?” He pushed harder against her throat. “Tell me! All I want is to see my daughter."

  He loosened his grip on her throat. Tatiana heaved a few breaths. She frowned for a moment then shook her head.

  “Eleven years ago," she said, "I saw the life Danielle was living
. It was a living hell. Saving her from you and Cassandra was the right decision."

  Tears rolled down Marcus's face. He didn't know if he was feeling misery or rage. He didn’t understand what she was saying.

  "You killed Cassandra," he said. "You took everything I loved, everything that made me happy."

  Tatiana shook her head. "People like you don't deserve happiness."

  He applied more pressure to her throat. She gasped for air. “Tell me where my daughter is, or I will kill you.”

  “No.”

  “Please!”

  “Never.”

  Tatiana's face lost color. Her arms and legs flailed.

  “Please.”

  “No!"

  “I’m begging you, as a father.”

  “I’ll protect her to my last breath," said Tatiana as her eyes lost focus. "I'll protect her like you should have.”

  "I tried!" Marcus screamed. Then, quieter, he said, "I tried."

  "No, you didn't." She gasped as her neck turned blue. "And you know it."

  Marcus let out a sob and pushed down harder on her throat.

  After a few moments, Tatiana's gasps stopped, her arms and legs stopped flailing, and her entire body became dead weight underneath Marcus.

  He let go of her throat and sat up.

  She fell to the ground, a puff of wheat and dirt coming up from the ground. Her head landed on one side. Her hair blew over her lifeless eyes.

  Marcus looked down at her, sobbing and wiping away the tears.

  "I'm sorry," he whispered. "That was for Cassandra."

  3

  Marcus decided not to dwell on what Tatiana had said. He had long ago sworn to kill the people who had destroyed his life.

  He stood, his ankles shaking. He stumbled through the wheat.

  The lights in the house were still on, but there was no movement inside.

  A phone rang a few feet away from him. Marcus walked over and picked up the IPhone Tatiana had dropped. The call went to voicemail.

  A few moments later, the phone rang again. The name “Jamie” came up on the screen. Marcus watched it ring until it went to voicemail again.

  The phone needed a passcode. It was too risky for him to take it. He wiped off his fingerprints with his sleeve and dropped it.