Chapter 5 - The Edge of the Blade
The heavy rock connected with his cheekbone with a sickening crack.
My husband yelled in pain and dropped the knife in the dark.
I scrambled backward on my hands and knees, dragging myself away from him.
Above us, the sheriff’s heavy boots suddenly stopped.
The deep voice yelled out, asking if everything was alright down there.
My mother-in-law frantically told him it was just a raccoon in the crawlspace, trying to block his path.
I heard the sheriff shove past her.
His boots pounded against the hardwood, moving directly toward the kitchen where the cellar door was.
My husband scrambled in the dark, his hands wildly sweeping the dirt to find his weapon.
I tried to push myself into the corner, but my numb legs betrayed me.
His hand clamped around my ankle like an iron vise.
He cursed at me, his voice trembling with a mix of fury and panic.
I kicked blindly with my free foot, catching him hard in the chest.
He grunted but did not let go.
I heard the metallic sound of the knife blade scraping against a stone.
He had found it.
Suddenly, a blinding beam of light pierced the darkness as the inner cellar door above us flew open.
The sheriff stood at the top of the stairs with his flashlight aimed directly at us.
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My husband did not surrender.
Instead, he grabbed me by the hair and yanked me up as a human shield, pressing the blade deep into my shoulder.
