The Puppet Master's Barn

Samantha Stevens woke up bound with rope cutting into her wrists and ankles, and with a disgusting feeling of nausea in her mouth. Something was creaking, like a swing gently going back and forth in the breeze. With her hands secured behind her and the hazy sunshine coming through cracks in the old barn, Sam tried to remember what happened. Where am I? Rolling over and pushing herself up against the hay bales, she could see the big sliding doors from the loft. More importantly, she could see the giant crossbeam going from one end of the barn to the other – and the source of the creaking hanging from a noose.

Sam screamed silently at the horror her mind could just not fathom. A body was swinging from a rope in a barn. CREEEAAAK! It looked small, not like a child, but perhaps female. Clearly the neck was snapped, but also…the hands were bound behind the back just like her own. She felt herself wanting to cry when suddenly a door opened, and heavy footfalls sounded with something being dragged across the barn floor.

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Jon cursed at himself for being so stupid. It was bad enough watching their only son Cody die a few months ago when the school bus was hit by a plane crippled by an electromagnetic pulse – but now Jon had also quite literally lost his wife somewhere. They were supposed to meet up with Pam and Jack O’ Leary at an old, abandoned farm a few miles away out in the middle of nowhere. Jack had to contact another friend first, so he wrote out directions and a map for Jon.

“Stick together and stay away from other people,” said Jack. “I’ve got some guns, ammo, and food hidden away up there. Pam and I will catch up as soon as we can.”

Jon and Sam had made it as far as the old logging road. “I gotta pee,” said Sam as she headed off toward some trees. Jon rolled his eyes. Examining the map, Jon realized he had no idea what the distance was between landmarks. They were supposed to follow the logging road, but it looked like the farm was way off to one side and the road kept going. Jon muttered under his breath at how ridiculous this hand-drawn map was and called out to Sam.

“Sam! I need you to look at this map. I can’t figure out how far we need to go on this road.” He laughed to himself for a moment as Sam always ribbed him about asking for directions.

Jon finally looked up. “Sam?” There wasn’t a trace of his wife. Panic began to bubble up as Jon ran in the direction where he last saw her. “SAM!!!”

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Sam slid down a bit from her propped up position against the hay and silently eyed the figure moving below. He was an absolute monster of a man - tattooed, bald, and probably badass. It was almost comical to see so much muscle bulging out of a set of overalls. No shirt. No shoes. Just overalls.

The door creaked open and slammed shut again. Sam inched her way toward the edge of the loft and looked down. CREEEAAAK! The body gently swung. There was now a huge oak table in the middle of the floor. It was marred with scratches and dried up liquids. I need to get out of here. She tried to move her hips, lower her arms, and slide her hands in front of her, but the rope was knotted too tightly to allow enough slack in her wrists. The ladder was out of the question unless she could free her limbs. There’s always the express route. Risky. There was no guarantee that she wouldn’t land on something sharp and bleed out on the floor. Then again, staying put was increasingly dangerous.

Sam carefully let her legs dangle over the edge, keeping her weight shifted backward. In one swift movement she let herself fall feet first and tried to roll on impact. Now she was seeing stars as her head found the edge of a wooden brace. Moments later, the sliding barn door opened, and Baldy stomped over to Sam.

“Where d’ ya think yer goin’? Not show time yet.” Baldy said with a smile and placed an ether-soaked rag on her nose and mouth. Darkness rolled over Sam once again. CREEEAAAK…

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Jon combed through the brush and tall grass looking for any sign of Sam. Surely, she would have yelled if she were in trouble. Unless she was hurt. Or unconscious. There were a couple of spots where she could’ve slid down the embankment into the rushing creek below. It wasn’t like her to play hide-and-seek either.

Jon half slid and half jumped down the slope toward the creek and kneeled to fill his water bottle. Getting up he spied something in the soft mud – a bare footprint. Catching his eye a few feet away, Jon saw Sam’s bag wedged on the side of the creek by a huge branch. But no Sam. Anger and fear were rising as Jon desperately searched nearby. Someone took my wife. Jack said to stick together, and I let her out of my sight. Dammit! Jon hoped he could track Sam, but obviously whoever had her was skilled in moving through the woods with minimal noise. No sign of dragging so he’s probably carrying her. Jon grabbed Sam’s bag and set out looking for clues on which direction to go.

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Sam woke up back in the loft and now her head hurt like hell. Did I knock myself out? Pain throbbed across her temples. Wait – no. Baldy had come in and put something over her nose. Sam struggled to her knees just in time for the heaves of vomit to burst out onto the hay. But now she noticed something else: a noose was around her neck. Sam followed the direction of the rope from her neck to the crossbeam. As long as she stayed in the loft, there was no tension in the rope. Great. Tied hands, tied feet, and noose around the neck. They don’t teach you about this stuff in nursing school.

Baldy slid back in through the squeaky, creaky side door carrying a small black bag. The ladder strained under his weight as he climbed to the loft. Sam’s eyes were wide with fear as Baldy placed the hood over Sam’s head.

“He’s comin’ fer ya. Gotta git ‘em here fo’ show time...”

Sam curled in a ball. She could hear Baldy moving things around, hammering something, the clinking of tools and laughing to himself. Then suddenly he was back up the ladder and slinging her over his shoulder. She was nothing but a discount bag of potatoes in his huge arms. Down the ladder step-by-step and then…up again? That seemed odd. Sam could definitely tell they were going up the ladder again. He rolled her off his shoulder and onto a chair. She could feel with her hands behind her that it was a wicker chair. Then Baldy put tension on the noose, singing softly:

“I ain’t gonna kill ya, naw, naw...he’s gonna kill ya, yah, yah…”

Sam didn’t dare move. CREEEAAAK! That hanging body sounded a lot closer now.

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Jon had gotten lucky. He had noticed a few more footprints in soft areas and every so often he found matted down grass and weeds. The path was roughly running parallel to the logging road along a deer trail. Jon glassed ahead through the trees toward an open area – a barn. Jon checked the map. This had to be the abandoned farm that Jack wanted to meet at. But the trail also seemed to lead here. Maybe not so abandoned after all.

Jon moved into the shadows near the tree line. A huge bald, barefoot man was using a sharpening stone on an ax. Jon knew he wouldn’t have a chance going one-on-one with this guy. He could probably palm Jon’s head like a basketball.

Just then, Baldy stood up and walked to the sliding barn door. Pulling it slightly ajar, he called up to Sam.

“It’s ‘bout show time!”

“What do you want with me?! Let me GO!”

That was Sam! Jon spotted the side door to the barn and slowly worked his way around trying to stay out of Baldy’s sight. He was still standing at the sliding barn door.

“I ain’t gonna kill ya, naw, naw...he’s gonna kill ya, yah, yah…”

Jon wished that he had one of Jack’s guns right now, but he had no idea where they were hidden on the farm. He peeked through a crack in the side door. All he could see was Baldy standing in the big doorway. Where was Sam? Maybe if I could make a distraction with fire or something, then I could sneak in and get Sam.

“I ain’t gonna kill ya, naw, naw...he’s gonna kill ya, yah, yah…”

Just then Jon heard a soft shot and a ping. Looking through the crack, he saw Baldy bleeding from a hole in his head and collapsing in a heap. Jack’s voice rang out from nearby, “GO!” Now was his chance to find Sam.

Jon threw open the side door and instantly regretted it. There was no way he could see the rope and pulley connected to the door that yanked out one of the legs of the oak table. When Jon looked at it later, he found that the bolt holding the leg in place had been loosened so that just a small bit of force would cause the table to collapse. On the oak table was another smaller table, and on top of that smaller table was a wicker chair. All three had collapsed to the floor the moment he opened the door.