Free Short Story: Emily James (Part 3)

Emily James: Part 3

The eagerly anticipated next installment has arrived! Find out what is happening in the abandoned farmhouse as Emily & Mark seek shelter and a phone to call for help! Not caught up yet? Before you read any further, catch up with Road Trip: Part 1 and The Farmhouse: Part 2 by clicking on the links. Part 4 will be complete in time for Halloween! :-) Enjoy this exclusive free short story.

Here's the legal bit first then on to the story!

This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, contact jensequel.com

Emily held the receiver in her left hand while she turned toward the door. “Mark?” Lightning flashed outside, revealing that she was alone in the room. “You can come inside now! I found a phone!”

She turned back to the phone and pressed the button that sat under the receiver. When she first found the phone, she had heard a dial tone. Now, there was nothing on the other end. She clicked the button a few times to be sure and hung the handset back into the cradle.

She sighed, realizing that Mark had been correct. She would never hear the end of it now. She knew he would insist they return to the car, but she was tired of driving and had no intention of remaining in the car while they waited for help to arrive.

If help arrived.

She shivered, more from the cold that permeated the farmhouse than from being alone in the dark. Just being in the house comforted her. It was much better than sitting in Mark’s car while the storm raged as they waited for someone to drive down the road and find them. Even then, the odds of them stopping late at night were slim to none. And she couldn’t imagine being that close to him confined in such a small space.

She knew she had to end things.

She had been distancing herself for some time. Mark was ever clueless, which was evident with the romantic get-away he planned. He was one of the most caring people she knew, which only made matters worse and delayed the inevitable. She cared for him deeply, but she wasn’t in love. And he deserved so much better.

“Mark?”

Emily walked to the doorway of the living room and looked into the hallway that led to the front door. The door itself was open and she could faintly see the front porch. The storm was intensifying, lighting up the exterior as lightning flashed in the sky. The wind howled through the open door, stirring up leaves that were scattered on the front porch and depositing them inside.

“Mark, you were right,” she admitted, walking to the front door. Before she could reach it, the wind picked up and slammed the front door shut. She jumped, then laughed at her reaction. Grabbing the door handle, she turned the knob and pulled on the door. When it didn’t open, she tried once more.

“Mark?” she called through the door. “This isn’t funny Mark!”

She jiggled the handle and tried opening the door, but it wouldn’t budge. She banged on the door with the palm of her hand but heard nothing but the rain and the wind outside. She peered out the window seeing only darkness. She waited until the lightning struck to see if Mark was standing on the front porch, but the sky remained dark. Her anxiety rose and she kicked the door.

“Open the door, Mark!”

Behind her, she heard a board creak and her throat tightened as she had an overwhelming feeling that she was being watched. She turned, pressing her back against the door to face the hallway and saw only shadows.

“Settle down Emily James.” She patted her chest with one hand while she took three deep breaths to calm her nerves. “It’s just the wind.”

The logical part of her brain kicked in and she realized the door must be swollen from the rain which was causing it to not open. She would simply find another exit. And if that didn’t work, she was determined to climb out a window. She reasoned that Mark must have been trying to find a signal on his cell phone and was more than likely wandering around outside and couldn’t hear her yelling over the wind and the rain. He wouldn’t have left her alone if he didn’t think she was safe. And if the boy scout thought she was safe, then she had to believe it too.

With a confidence she wasn’t fully committed to, Emily strode back to the room with the telephone. She had seen one of those old hurricane lamps she only knew about from the historical movies she watched. If she remembered correctly, those had oil and a wick and were safer than an open flame candle. All she needed was a way to light it, and that was something she could manage.

Emily rummaged in her purse, her fingertips finding the pack of cigarettes she kept stashed in the bottom. It was on her list to quit but matters at work and with Mark were too stressful for her to stop now. Given her current circumstances, she was glad she hadn’t. When her fingers wrapped around her lighter, she smiled.

Spinning the sparkwheel, Emily smiled when it lit on the first try. She walked quickly to the fireplace mantle where she saw the hurricane lamp. Lifting the hood, she lit the wick and nearly squealed with joy as it lit immediately when the flame from her lighter touched it.

“Must be my lucky day,” she muttered under her breath. When she was convinced it would stay lit, she dropped her lighter back into her purse and lowered the hood on the lamp. The glass was coated with black soot and the light was minimal, but it certainly was better than nothing. The floorboards creaked in the hallway and her joy at finding the lamp was quickly diminished.

“Mark?” she asked, turning to face the hall.

The lamp flickered, casting odd shadows within the room. She could see more clearly the state of the room she was in. Broken furniture lay in piles throughout the room. Remnants of a time long past. It was obvious the house had been abandoned for some time. The wind howled through the broken windows that faced the front of the house. Above her, the floorboards groaned as someone walked in the room on the second floor. Emily no longer believed she was alone.