Chapter 6 - The Cavalry Arrives
“Clara, stay still,” Arthur commanded gently, keeping his eyes and his weapon fixed on Thomas as he pulled a heavy-duty tactical radio from his coat pocket with his left hand.
He keyed the mic with his thumb.
“Dispatch, this is retired Detective Arthur Vance. I’m at 424 Pine Ridge Road. I have a 10-55 in progress—domestic assault with severe physical trauma. Suspect is contained on scene. I need state troopers and an ambulance dispatched immediately via the ridge trail. The county roads are impassable.”
“Copy that, Detective Vance,” a crisp dispatcher’s voice crackled through the radio. “State units and EMS are already staging at the base of the ridge. They’re bringing a tracked snowcat. ETA ten minutes.”
“Ten minutes,” Arthur muttered, clipping the radio back onto his belt. He kept his gun trained on Thomas, who was kneeling on the floor, sweating profusely despite the freezing draft blowing through the shattered front door.
“You’re ruining my life,” Thomas muttered bitterly, staring down at the floorboards. “She started this. She wouldn't just let me leave.”
“Leaving involves packing a suitcase and walking out the door, Thomas,” Arthur replied, his voice dripping with absolute contempt. “What you did involves a hospital bed, a shattered tibia, and a terrified six-year-old hiding in a hole in the ground in the middle of a blizzard. You’re not a victim. You’re a criminal.”
I lay on the floor, shivering, the pain in my leg dulling into a heavy, throbbing ache now that I knew help was here. The tree lights flickered softly above us, casting warm red and green glows over the scene like an absurd, mocking backdrop to a nightmare.
“Dad…” I breathed, my teeth chattering. “Poppy… go get Poppy.”
“I’ve got her, sweetie,” Arthur said, casting a reassuring glance down at me. But he didn't lower his gun. He knew Thomas too well; a cornered rat would always try one last desperate lunge.
“Thomas,” Arthur warned, seeing my husband’s weight shift slightly toward his left foot. “Don’t even think about it.”
“I’m cold,” Thomas whined, his voice cracking. “My hands are freezing. Can I just grab my jacket?”
“Stay where you are!” Arthur snapped.
May you like
At that exact moment, the low, mechanical rumble of a heavy engine echoed from outside, cutting through the howling wind.
Headlights cut through the swirling snow, washing over the shattered front windows of the house. A bright red and white state police snowcat had just pulled up right outside the porch, its orange beacon flashing against the white winter night.
