was encouraged to take his son along , forging a new bond with the boy that he’d never had before .
And now he was going to forge the strongest bond of all , for he was going to save his son . Save him from the awfulness of this world , from the senseless fighting , misery and poverty . Give him a better future than he’d ever thought possible .
After making sure the house was secure , he took a few minutes to prepare himself . Sitting at the bottom of the stairs , he removed his knife from the sheath clipped to his belt and the pumice stone from his pocket . Wetting the stone with spit , he began to sharpen the knife . Repeating his mantra , “ Follow the will of the Lord . Follow the steps to Heaven . Follow the will of the Lord . Follow the steps to Heaven .”
Caught up in his hypnotic chant , his body moved backwards and forwards as he sharpened the knife . The grating cadence filled the air as the stone ran along the blade . First one side , then the other . Swoosh , swoosh , swoosh . Long drawn out strokes , dipping and swooping like a bird of prey .
Prepared , he climbed the stairs to Ryan’s bedroom . Pausing at the door he looked down at his sleeping son . Earlier he’d slipped a sedative into the boy’s breakfast orange juice , so Ryan wouldn’t panic at the last minute . He didn’t want the glorious moment spoiled .
After removing the knife from his pocket and placing it on the floor , he lifted the boy from his bed . Holding him in his arms he sat on the floor , propped up against the side of the bed , with his son in his lap . Ryan stirred in his sleep , his arms winding themselves around his father’s neck before he settled once more .
Peter reached for the knife and pulled his son’s head to one side exposing the delicate white skin of his neck , where his pulse was visible . With a swift left handed movement , he slit the innocent throat . A small smile played across his lips , as he lifted the blade to his own neck .
Chapter Fifteen
When Crane returned home that night, he found the lights down low, soft music playing and the table in the kitchen laid for dinner, compete with candles.
“I’ve poured you a beer,” called Tina from the kitchen. “Settle yourself down on the settee while I finish up in here.”
Inwardly groaning, Crane realised he had forgotten that tonight was the night of their ‘big talk’. The one he had been successfully avoiding for the past few weeks. Shrugging out of his jacket and hanging it in the hallway, he took off his shoes and swapped them for slippers. Tina always teased him about the old fashioned image of slippers, but after a day pounding around the garrison, it was bliss to get out of his shoes or boots and let his feet breath and move around in the comfort of a well worn pair of slippers. He just hoped that piece of information wouldn’t find itself widely known in the barracks.
He sat down on the black leather settee and took a long draught of the beer, whilst wiggling his toes and stretching his feet. Emerging from the kitchen with a glass of red wine in her hand, Tina kissed him hello and settled down beside him, leaning in against his arm. Just then, the Grover Washington Jnr CD changed tracks to ‘Just the two of us’, which Crane found rather ironic.
“So, you want to talk about changing from ‘Just the two of us’, to ‘Just the three or more of us’,” he quipped.
Smiling, she nodded. “Oh, Tom, I don’t know, maybe it’s just my biological clock. You know, I must start to have kids now before it’s too late. At other times I just want company when you’re away. Then again, I want lots of little Cranes running around. A continuation of us, maybe. Someone to prove that we were here, after we’re long gone.”
He could see the raw emotion on her face and he said softly, smoothing her hair down with his hand, “I do understand, sweetheart, but you mustn’t look at this with rose tinted glasses.” As she
And now he was going to forge the strongest bond of all , for he was going to save his son . Save him from the awfulness of this world , from the senseless fighting , misery and poverty . Give him a better future than he’d ever thought possible .
After making sure the house was secure , he took a few minutes to prepare himself . Sitting at the bottom of the stairs , he removed his knife from the sheath clipped to his belt and the pumice stone from his pocket . Wetting the stone with spit , he began to sharpen the knife . Repeating his mantra , “ Follow the will of the Lord . Follow the steps to Heaven . Follow the will of the Lord . Follow the steps to Heaven .”
Caught up in his hypnotic chant , his body moved backwards and forwards as he sharpened the knife . The grating cadence filled the air as the stone ran along the blade . First one side , then the other . Swoosh , swoosh , swoosh . Long drawn out strokes , dipping and swooping like a bird of prey .
Prepared , he climbed the stairs to Ryan’s bedroom . Pausing at the door he looked down at his sleeping son . Earlier he’d slipped a sedative into the boy’s breakfast orange juice , so Ryan wouldn’t panic at the last minute . He didn’t want the glorious moment spoiled .
After removing the knife from his pocket and placing it on the floor , he lifted the boy from his bed . Holding him in his arms he sat on the floor , propped up against the side of the bed , with his son in his lap . Ryan stirred in his sleep , his arms winding themselves around his father’s neck before he settled once more .
Peter reached for the knife and pulled his son’s head to one side exposing the delicate white skin of his neck , where his pulse was visible . With a swift left handed movement , he slit the innocent throat . A small smile played across his lips , as he lifted the blade to his own neck .
Chapter Fifteen
When Crane returned home that night, he found the lights down low, soft music playing and the table in the kitchen laid for dinner, compete with candles.
“I’ve poured you a beer,” called Tina from the kitchen. “Settle yourself down on the settee while I finish up in here.”
Inwardly groaning, Crane realised he had forgotten that tonight was the night of their ‘big talk’. The one he had been successfully avoiding for the past few weeks. Shrugging out of his jacket and hanging it in the hallway, he took off his shoes and swapped them for slippers. Tina always teased him about the old fashioned image of slippers, but after a day pounding around the garrison, it was bliss to get out of his shoes or boots and let his feet breath and move around in the comfort of a well worn pair of slippers. He just hoped that piece of information wouldn’t find itself widely known in the barracks.
He sat down on the black leather settee and took a long draught of the beer, whilst wiggling his toes and stretching his feet. Emerging from the kitchen with a glass of red wine in her hand, Tina kissed him hello and settled down beside him, leaning in against his arm. Just then, the Grover Washington Jnr CD changed tracks to ‘Just the two of us’, which Crane found rather ironic.
“So, you want to talk about changing from ‘Just the two of us’, to ‘Just the three or more of us’,” he quipped.
Smiling, she nodded. “Oh, Tom, I don’t know, maybe it’s just my biological clock. You know, I must start to have kids now before it’s too late. At other times I just want company when you’re away. Then again, I want lots of little Cranes running around. A continuation of us, maybe. Someone to prove that we were here, after we’re long gone.”
He could see the raw emotion on her face and he said softly, smoothing her hair down with his hand, “I do understand, sweetheart, but you mustn’t look at this with rose tinted glasses.” As she
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