Fight the Fear

As Hallowe’en is just around the corner, I chose “fear” as the prompt for this month’s flash fiction. I wrote this scene for my current work in progress, but in the re-writes it will be deleted. Rather than it disappearing forever, I thought I’d share it with you.

~

Matthew’s pounding heart rang in his ears.

Smith stood wide-eyed and flicked the pistol in his direction. It wobbled in his unsteady hand. As long as the bastard no longer pointed the damn thing at Helen, he did not care.

“Your problem is with me, Smith. Let my wife leave.” Nothing mattered other than getting her out of the room.

Smith pointed the pistol at Helen’s chest. “I think she should stay.”

“No!” Matthew lurched forward and held out his hands.

Smith flicked the pistol back towards Matthew. “Stay back, Williams!”

“Matthew!” Helen stepped between him and the gunman.

Damn it! Did his wife have no sense of self-preservation?

“Well, well…” Smith flicked the barrel between them. “This is better than I imagined. But which target will prove most effective?”

Matthew swallowed against his tight throat. “Let her go, Smith, and I will give you whatever you want.”

“I see.” Smith turned the barrel in Helen’s direction.

Matthew reached out to pull his wife towards him.

Smith cocked the pistol. “Stay where you are, or I will shoot her! Perhaps it would be fitting to see you lose your wife as well as your company.”

Matthew froze. His fingers twitched to grab his wife, but he dared not take his eyes from the fiend.

“This is ridiculous, Mr. Smith.” Helen snapped. “Leave now while you have the chance.”

Smith snarled. “You keep your silly mouth shut!”

Matthew held out his hands, the palms facing Smith. “Please listen to me. Let Helen leave and we can discuss your terms.”

“I will not leave you.” Helen snapped over her shoulder. For god’s sake, now was not the time for her to defend him!

Smith circled the desk towards Helen. Matthew’s racing heartbeat became a throbbing pain. All he could do was watch while Smith slithered closer to his wife.

“I think Mrs. Williams will stay. She will be useful leverage in our negotiations.” Smith grabbed Helen’s arm and dragged her back into his chest, placing the barrel of the pistol at her temple.

God, no! “Damn it, man! I’ve already said I will give you whatever you want. Let her go!”

Helen straightened and raised her chin. Her defiant courage might be admirable if her life were not in danger.

Over her shoulder, Smith ordered, “Sign over the company to me and I will think about letting her go.”

Matthew glanced at his desk. “Let me find some paper and I will do it now.”

“Matthew, no!” His wife pleaded.

Smith grappled with Helen. “Stop fidgeting woman or will not hesitate to put a bullet in your skull.”

“Helen, do as he says, please.” His voice cracked. He had to get her away from that man—nothing else mattered.

Instead, his impetuous wife decided to provoke her captor. “I refuse to hand over my father’s company. He would be ashamed to see what you have become.”

“I gave my all for this company.” Smith slurred in her ear. “I will not see it ruined in the hands of this manipulative Welshman. He failed to keep his own company afloat. I will not allow him to destroy everything I have worked for too.”

“Do you think you will get away with this!” Helen hissed. “Matthew, get out of here, fetch the constable!”

“Helen!” Dear God, normally he would applaud his wife’s courage, but not when her life was at risk. His chest heaved, unable to draw in enough air.

Helen scowled at the gunman. “I will not succumb to your pathetic threats. Shoot me and you will go to the gallows. Do not shoot me and I will have you arrested for embezzlement and attempted murder. Either way, you will never have my father’s company. You cannot win, Mr. Smith.”

Matthew stared while his throat tightened and burned. What was she thinking, provoking the man in this way?

“Shut up, girl!” Smith pointed the pistol at Matthew. “Find the paper, now!” The barrel wobbled before he replaced it at Helen’s temple.

His heart stuttered. “This will not solve your financial problems, Mr. Smith. Let us go while you have the chance, and you can start a new life.”

“A new life.” The man scoffed. “I have no life without this company.” The pistol shook. “I have a wife who hates me and a son who sees me as an endless source of cash for his life of idleness and pleasure.”

Matthew inched forward. “You undermined this company with your entrenched business ideas and inability to adapt to the changing market. If you continue this way, you will not have a company either.”

“Let me go and we will pay you whatever you want.” Helen snapped. “You will be free to leave, and we will think no more on it, but you cannot have my company.”

“Helen, just let me find some paper,” Matthew fumbled through the piles on his desk. Sheet after sheet scattered across the tabletop or fell to the floor.

“Matthew,” Helen’s eyes widened in her already pale face, “I will not permit you to do this. You swore you would not act against my will regarding my company.” Her voice wobbled. “Please do as I ask and leave.”

Did she think he would abandon her? Matthew’s gaze met hers. The minutes seemed to slow, and the air crackled with tension.

“I am so sorry.” She swallowed. “For everything.” She shrugged out of Smith’s hold and turned to face him, grabbing the pistol, and pressing her forehead into the barrel. “If you wish to shoot me do so and get on with it.”

Matthew’s cry of alarm caught in his throat.

Smith faltered, the pistol trembling against Helen’s temple. One slip and the weapon could fire.

The man stared into space above Helen’s head. A lone tear trickled down his cheek. He lowered the pistol a fraction before he turned it on himself and pulled the trigger.