The smile fell off her face as she turned away from them and continued down the hallway. Her room was at the very end of the hallway. The door was still closed. No one—not even Marcy—had managed to work up the nerve to venture into the room again. And no wonder. The woman bound to her bed possessed some level of telekinetic or supernatural ability. Marcy experienced a chill as she recalled the way the woman had reached into her mind and temporarily shut down her motor control. She wasn’t too thrilled with the idea of being in the strange woman’s presence again. But there was just no way around it—she needed something in the room.
As she neared the door, she detected a stench emanating from the other side. The source, of course, was Sonia’s corpse, which remained exactly where it had fallen several hours earlier. Marcy paused at the door, her hand hovering shakily over the doorknob. She put her ear against the thin wood and listened for any indication that the woman was awake. She heard nothing at first, but then detected the low sound of very shallow breathing. Not giving herself a chance to think about it any further, Marcy gripped the doorknob and turned it, rushed into the room and closed the door behind her.
Her gaze went immediately to the woman tied to her bed. She was lying very still. Her head was turned to one side, a sheaf of jet-black hair falling across her face like a veil. Her chest rose and fell very slightly, and the softest of snores confirmed that she was asleep.
Marcy hurried to the dresser to the left of the bed. She knelt and opened the bottom drawer, brushing aside some puttering-around-the-house raggedy clothes to find the L-shaped lunk of metal concealed at the bottom. The 9mm Glock felt good in her hands, the molded plastic grip seeming to adhere to her flesh like a living thing. She stood up and looked at the sleeping woman. It would be so easy to kill her now and remove one big fucking problem once and for all.
But the others would hear the shot and freak. Maybe run.
She swallowed hard.
Just do it.
“Right.”
She went to the door and opened it smoothly, stepping back into the hallway with as much stealth as she could muster. She was midway to the living room archway when Michael’s cousin stepped into the hallway, saw her holding the gun, and opened his mouth wide.
Marcy raised the gun and squeezed the trigger.
The bullet hit his chest dead center. Redness like a rose petal stained the front of his shirt as his body was propelled backward. Marcy blanked all thought from her mind then. She hurried into the living room and saw that the other boys were on their feet. Two of them were standing near the sofa and screaming at her. The other one, an Asian kid named Kim, was edging toward the front door. Marcy swung the Glock in Kim’s direction and squeezed off two shots. One whizzed by him and punched through drywall. The second drilled a hole through the back of his head. Then she swung the gun back toward the remaining two boys, who were backing away from her now, their faces shiny with tears as they begged for their lives. Marcy squeezed the Glock’s trigger two more times and both boys fell dead to the floor.
Marcy’s ears rang from the boom of the gunshots. The air in the room was thick with the pungent stench of cordite. A long moment later she realized someone was screaming. Her eyes found Ellen, still huddled in the corner, her eyes wide and frightened. Next Marcy heard her hammering heart and a moment later the hard reality of what she’d just done crashed in on her. She’d killed all her friends. Oh, God. What little remained of her sanity was hanging by a thread. This thing she’d done made no sense on any obvious level. And yet there remained that sense of selfish righteousness, that she was doing only what destiny required, no matter how crazy it seemed.
She lowered the gun and went to her sister, knelt next to her and smoothed back her hair with a trembling hand. “I meant what I said, baby sister. Everything’s going to be okay. You’ll see. This…it had to be done. This was a…a cleansing. And maybe the beginning of something new for you and me.”
Ellen sniffled. “You…you’re not going to…kill me?”
Marcy felt something give inside her. She dropped the gun and drew Ellen into her arms as her own eyes filled with tears. “No, no, no, Ellen, don’t you ever think that. I could never hurt you. You’re my baby girl, my only family, and I love you more than anything.”
Ellen sagged against her sister and wailed like a baby for a time. Marcy held her and patted her back, allowing her as long as she needed. Her own tears dried up faster than she expected as her mind turned back to practicalities. They had no close neighbors, so she wasn’t worried about anyone reporting gunfire. Regardless, they were going to have to leave this place. At some point relatives of the dead would report their loved ones missing and sooner or later the law would come sniffing around. And there was no conceivable way to cover up this much carnage or explain away a bunch of missing friends known to spend most of their free time in her company.
Marcy gently eased out of her sister’s embrace and picked up the Glock. “We’re going to be leaving, Ellen. Going on the road.” Seeing that her sister wanted to protest, Marcy put some steel in her voice as she said, “We’re going and that’s that. It’s too late for regrets or second thoughts. We have to go on the run, get some place far away from here. Maybe Florida, way down in the Keys. Wouldn’t that be nice? If we get out of here within the next couple of hours, we might have as much as a day’s head start before the cops start looking for us.”
Ellen chewed on her lower lip and frowned. “But…I didn’t do any of this. Can’t I just stay?”
Marcy’s expression went slack. She stared coldly at her sister for a long moment. Then she put the Glock against Ellen’s temple and said, “You’re going with me. I love you, Ellen, but I can’t leave anyone behind. Do you understand that?”
Ellen was shaking again. “You promised you wouldn’t hurt me.”
“Look around you, Ellen,” Marcy snapped. She eased her finger off the trigger, but kept the Glock’s barrel pressed to Ellen’s head. “I really don’t want to hurt you. I do love you. But I’m not feeling very stable right now and you don’t want to upset me. Do you understand that?”
Ellen nodded. “Yes. I’m sorry. I’ll go with you.”
“Just remember, sister, you put all this in motion when you came running to me with your sob story about the bitch attacking you in the bar.”
Ellen started crying again, her thin shoulders heaving beneath her black blouse.
Marcy lowered the Glock and stood up. “I’m sorry, Ellen, but that’s just the way it is. I need you to see that we’re in this together from the beginning to the very end. Do you see that?”
Ellen continued crying, but she managed a weak nod. “I do.”
“Good.” Marcy didn’t doubt Ellen’s sincerity. She was too scared to lie. “I’m going to take care of some loose ends and clean up. You’ll hear one more shot. You know what that will be.”
Ellen nodded again. “Yeah.”
“And while I’m busy, you’ll need to pack a bag for the road. Make sure to bring as many clothes changes as you can. And any hair care products you have. We’ll be wanting to cut and dye our hair wherever we stop tonight.”
“Okay.”
Marcy held out her free hand and Ellen slipped her own hand into it, allowing her older sister to haul her to her feet. “Come on.”
They walked hand-in-hand out of the living room and into the hallway. Marcy saw Ellen flinch at the sight of the first boy she’d shot. He apparently hadn’t died instantly. There was a trail of blood along the hallway carpet to the place where he’d ultimately expired, just a few feet shy of the kitchen archway. Marcy turned her sister away from the sight and led her in the opposite direction. She relinquished Ellen’s hand when they arrived at her bedroom. Ellen slipped into the room and began rummaging through her closet. Marcy watched her a moment longer. She was pretty sure she wouldn’t have shot Ellen. As sure as she could be given the way this insane day had developed. She did, however, feel a tremendous relief as she watched the younger girl make preparations for departure. An acquiescent Ellen would make the whole process so much smoother.