She was wrong.
Mei stood up, fire boiling in her veins. She wasn’t a bad person. She was just like Gabby, except she’d made the mistake of trusting her doctor. Two years ago, she’d been normal. A botched abortion and an even worse hysterectomy had led her to pain pills—pills that she was legally prescribed. She’d had no idea they’d trap her in a never-ending cycle of grief and need and more pain. When she couldn’t get the prescriptions anymore, she’d been left alone to deal with the withdrawals.
To relieve her pain, she’d turned to other drugs that she could find out on the street.
Then they took her little girl from her and she had more pain—more pain needed more drugs.
When she ran out of money, she’d stolen drugs—a lot of drugs—from the wrong person.
She’d paid heavily for that, and ended up with only one hand.
And then, she’d never stolen again. But she kept paying with what was left of her body.
And her soul.
She had to feed the need.
And now she was here.
But that didn’t mean Gabby was any better than she was.
She bit down on her lip and stomped over as though she were going to take a lesson from Elmer, but walked past him straight to Gabby, who still had her back turned to her.
Mei jerked the pistol from the back of her pants and jumped back, holding it in the air with her one shaky hand.
Gabby gasped and whipped around. “What are you doing?”
Emma put her hands up and stepped back.
“Young lady, put that gun down!” Elmer roared, stepping toward Mei.
Mei pointed the gun at him. “Stop. I’ll shoot.”
“What in tarnation’s going on with ya? Have you done lost your mind?” he yelled. He tore his hat off his head and slapped his leg with it. Tufts of his cottony-white hair danced in the wind.
Olivia stood frozen. Emma stood still and silent, her hands in the air beginning to shake.
Gabby stood defiant, not stepping back or holding her hands up.
Mei waved the pistol, pointing it at Gabby, then back again at Elmer. “Maybe I have lost my mind. If I have, it’s your fault. All of you. People just like you. You all think you’re so much better than me. I heard you talking. I listened to you sleep so soundly. I see you. But no one sees me. No one knows my pain. No one cares,” Mei screamed at them, tears running down her face. “I had a daughter. I was a mother. I was a good person, too.”
Olivia took a step forward, “You are a good person. Of course you are! We know that.”
“Stop,” Mei screamed, whipping the gun around to point at Olivia. “You don’t know. You know nothing!” Her skinny arm shook in an effort to keep the gun up. Hot tears streamed down her face.
Olivia visibly cringed and backed up another step.
“Put that damn gun down, girl,” Elmer yelled. “Before you hurt someone.”
Mei turned the gun on him again. He stood stock still. “There’s only one person I want to hurt.” Then she waved it around to aim at Gabby. Her finger moved into the trigger-guard as the gun shook violently. She stared at Gabby with hatred in her eyes, and firmed her jaw.
“No,” Emma screamed while Olivia dropped to her knees with her hands up and begged, “Please. Please don’t shoot her,” she said. She clenched her hands together as though in prayer while her knees sunk into the soft ground.
Gabby took another step toward Mei, watching her carefully. “Get up, Olivia. You and Emma go into the house. Hurry.”
“No! I’m not leaving you!” she yelled at Gabby, and looked to Mei. “Listen to me. We saved you. Gabby saved you. Please don’t do this,” Olivia begged through tears. “We’ll help you, I promise.”
“There’s no help for me.”
Before anyone could answer she squeezed the trigger.
Time stood still as the bullet ripped through the air, silencing everyone and everything as it cut through flesh and bone, sending a spray of crimson out the backside of the beautiful, dark hair.
28
GRAYSIE SLAPPED at the air in front of her. After piling into yet another heap of hay in yet another empty barn stall, and gorging on a bag of GORP, washed down with a bottle of water, she’d meant to close her eyes for just a moment.
But she’d fallen asleep—again.
The night before, after the excitement of her escape from the university and the ensuing car wreck had finally caught up with her, her adrenaline had fizzled out, replaced with exhaustion. She’d drifted off on her side with one arm draped through her backpack and her gun still stuck in the waistband of the back of her pants. She’d slept for hours, and got up and walked for hours more, lost in the dark. Turned out the country roads and barns all looked the same at night. She hadn’t been anywhere near her dad’s house.
When the sun finally showed its face this morning, she’d sat down with her map and tried to figure out where she was. It was hopeless. It all looked like squiggly lines to her and some asshat had taken down all the street signs—if there’d ever been any.
Midday, she’d stumbled onto another empty barn and laid down for a quick nap. She’d overslept… and now the bugs wouldn’t leave her alone, buzzing around her face and ears.
She waved her hand in front of her nose again and pulled herself up into a sitting position, not remembering where she was for a moment.
She opened her eyes.
Moonlight shone through the spaces where boards were missing from the barn—how did it get to be night again? She’d slept that long?
She pushed herself up and screamed.
Squatted beside her, a man stared at her with buggy eyes that darted all around. Nearly buried within a baggy, stained sweatshirt, with shaggy hair and a scabbed up skeletal face, he leered at her with a crooked smile of gaping holes and rotten teeth. He reached for her bag, his arm covered in a network of collapsed veins and scabs.
His hands shook violently. “Hey, ‘lil red riding hood. You got anything to us get geared up?”
His breath was deadly. She cringed. “Geared up? No! You can’t have my stuff.” Graysie grabbed her bag and scooted back, and jumped to her feet. She felt for her gun. It was still in the back of her pants, surprisingly.
He scrambled unsteadily to his feet, too, startled by her scream.
He held his hands up, palms out, on too-skinny arms. “Yo, sorry. No, I don’t want your gear. Look, I didn’t mean to scare you. I just… need to go fast, ya know? Get scattered, man.”
“No! Get away from me.” Graysie stared at his once-youthful, but now prematurely-gaunt face with disgust and quickly looked around the barn as she hooked her arms into her backpack and slid it into place onto her shoulders. She was cornered in the stall. Her only escape was to crawl over the side, but with the heavy backpack, he’d be on her in a second.
His face changed, becoming angry. He lunged at Graysie with his scab-covered arms, grabbing a handful of her curly red hair. “I know you’ve got someth—”
She could hear her father’s words whispering in her ear dozens of times as he’d wrestled with her, or pushed her around in horse-play… fight like a man, Graysie. Don’t let me win…
She stepped into his lunge and grabbed his wrist. His eyes widened in a stunned daze as she slammed the palm of her other hand into his elbow, bending it the wrong way. She felt a snap. He stumbled away, with an ear-piercing shriek and clutched his arm. She prayed it was broken as she turned and raced out of the barn, without looking back at the screaming demon behind her.