Jaffa, Israel
Rebecca's eyes flew open as a powerful hand clamped over her mouth. A large man was looking down, sneering at her. He had a golden tooth and a toothpick in his mouth.
He had a blade strapped to his arm, but he didn’t have a hand. He dragged the blade across her neck. “I’m going to slit you like I slit your momma, little girl.”
Rebecca bit his hand and shrieked.
Sarah ground the cigarette into the ashtray then closed a photo album she had been paging through and put it on the side table. She glanced at the flashing LCD clock on the VCR.
3:15 a.m.
She stood wearily, scooped up the overflowing ashtray, and emptied it into the dustbin. She felt numb, emotionally drained.
The past month had been pure hell. She had to cope with almost losing her husband. Then the distance he had kept from her and her own physical pain. She knew she needed to get her energy back, to be strong for the family. At least he had come back. She didn’t know if it was a blessing or a curse.
She sighed then switched on the kettle and lit another cigarette. He was using drugs. He was impossible to live with. Yaya said it was the guilt; it was eating him up from the inside.
The staircase creaked and Zachary shuffled down, holding on to the handrail for balance. He cast her a furtive glance but said nothing.
“How are you?” she asked.
“You know,” he said and shrugged. “The sleeping pills helped for a couple of hours, but it’s tough.”
“We should take Bruce up on his offer. Get Becky out of here, somewhere safer.”
He shook his head. “I’m not giving up on my daughter, Sarah.” He glared at her. He looked like shit, unshaven, and he refused to sleep in their bed, preferring the one in the guest bedroom.
“He’s a good man, Zachary. He loves Rebecca like his own. And she is fond of him as well.”
The ceiling squeaked as padded footsteps sounded above them.
“Is she awake?” Sarah asked, surprised.
Zachary shook head. “She was asleep when I left her.” He turned around. “I’m going to bed.”
Sarah followed him as he ambled up the stairs. She peeked into Rebecca's room. A hooded figure was hunched over her body, and then Rebecca screamed.
Zach swung around, slipped, then ran into Rebecca’s room and leaped towards Rebecca's assailant. The gun flashed before the shot echoed in her ears. Zachary groaned and fell to the floor, clutching his stomach. Another shot rang out and Sarah dove down the stairwell, stumbling her way to the kitchen.
She rummaged in a drawer and found what she was looking for, then she spun around and fired haphazardly up the stairs. The footsteps ran away from her and then a crash as glass broke. A dull thump as the assailant landed in the garden outside, urgent footsteps as he ran down the blacktop, making a hasty escape.
Sarah bounded up the stairs. Rebecca was kneeling next to her father, her black hair forming a curtain in front of her face.
Sarah put her ear to Zachary's chest. He wasn’t breathing.
She rushed into Zachary’s study, her hand shaking as she dialed 102. The operator tried to calm her down and promised an ambulance would be there within five minutes.
She slammed the phone onto the receiver and dialed another number. After three rings, Bruce answered groggily. “Hello?”
“Oh God, Bruce. Help us! Please help us!” she screamed hysterically.
The doctor strode towards Sarah and looked at her helplessly, shaking his head.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Cohen. We did all we could do. He had massive blood loss. He had barely recovered from the previous attack.” He pursed his lips. “He was weak.”
Rebecca Cohen put her hands to her face. She sat down shakily and sobbed.
Bruce nodded solemnly and thanked the man.
The doctor left and ambled down the passage, out of sight. He entered his office and closed the door behind him, picked up a phone, and punched in a number.
“Hello?”
“Hello. This is Dr. Frankel.”
“How did they take the news?”
“His wife is distraught. Bawling her eyes out.”
“And they believed you?”
The doctor smiled. “Absolutely. I’ve had lots of practice.”
“And where is he now?”
“In an ambulance, on his way to you.”
“Condition?”
The doctor thought for a moment. “Not good. All that’s keeping him alive is the life support equipment.”
“Brain damage?”
“No, none. But he’s had massive renal failure. He’s not going to live through this.”
The voice chuckled. “We shall see about that Doctor, we shall see.”
Sarah called Bruce to the kitchen. “Are you sure she’ll be safe with you?” she asked nervously, pulling the belt around her gown.
Bruce nodded. “Both of you will.”
“So we’ll have to move to South Africa?” Sarah asked. “Leave everything behind?”
“Unfortunately, yes, Sarah. And I would like to adopt Rebecca as my own daughter, as another level of protection.” He shrugged. “Maybe change her name. Get as far away from this place as we can.”
“Where will we go?” she asked, lighting a cigarette with trembling hands.
“I have a game farm; you will be safe there.”
Sarah held her hands to her face and sobbed. She stood like this for a minute, her shoulders jerking, crying without making a sound. Then she pulled herself together and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “OK, I understand,” she said, sniffing. “This is the best for Becky.”
Bruce squeezed her shoulder. “This is the best for both of you. Who knows? Things could change, but now we need to get you two to safety.” He stuck out his hand. “Deal?”
Sarah nodded and they shook on it. “Deal.”