Blaize (Margret Malone) by Nancy Cupp

Author:Nancy Cupp
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Cloverluck Press
Published: 2017-05-30T04:00:00+00:00

THE NEW TRUCK

A FEW DAYS LATER ARNOLD announced he’d be going to pick up his new truck. “The special modifications are done. I’m getting a ride, so I can drive it back.”

“Cool, I’m gettin’ tired of being inside here all day.”

“You’re going to stay here, there’s no room in my friend’s pick-up,” said Arnold.

“How long you gonna be gone?”

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll get back when I’m ready.”

Blaize pouted, “I was just gonna miss you, that all.”

Arnold gave her a long kiss. “You’ll like the new truck, it’s all decked out. Lots of living space.”

Blaize wondered if that meant they’d be living in the truck. She still hadn’t been anywhere where she could apply for a job, but Arnold didn’t seem to mind taking care of things.

He’d given her some more new clothes, and they went to the grocery store and bought everything she needed to cook nice meals. She had plenty of time to do her hair and nails and felt pampered in every way, they even had cable TV.

It had been two days since he’d gone and Blaize was bored. She decided to go outside for a walk to get some fresh air and sunshine. It always seemed so dark and gloomy inside the cavernous building, it didn’t have any windows.

A dusty stack of musty smelling hay was about all that was in the building. She’d asked Arnold why he didn’t park outside, so they could enjoy the view, but he made excuses about keeping the motorhome out of the elements.

Blaize tried to push the massive doors open, but they didn’t budge more than an inch. Through the crack between the doors, she could see they were chained together from the outside.

She spun around, and ran to the back end of the building. There had to be another way out. The doors in the back were chained as well. They looked like they hadn’t been open in years.

She ran up a staircase that led to a small office loft. The door was unlocked, but all that was in there was a desk, an old saggy couch and a refrigerator that wasn’t running. A large dusty window looked out over the floor below. It didn’t show her anything more than she’d already seen. There wasn’t any other door.

…

Blaize was fuming when she heard the doors slide open. She stepped out of the motorhome to watch as an eighteen-wheeler backed in. The truck was glittering with chrome and fancy paint. The trailer was painted to match with flames that extended from the truck onto the trailer.

She met Arnold at the doors, just as he was chaining them shut. “What you mean, locking me in here? You think I’m gonna steal your house?”

Arnold wheeled around, and caught her in the mouth with the back of his hand. “Don’t question me. Get in there and cook me some food, I’m hungry.”

Blaize stood there with her hand covering her mouth. Blood oozed from a cut on her lip, and tears welled up in her eyes.

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