“Allowed you to kill a bunch of innocent people. Let’s all celebrate.”
“You are mistaken if you think I enjoy the killing. But to get what I seek, I will not hesitate to use this blade.”
“But for what?” Anna said. “All those people dead for a piece of my soul?”
“Not just a piece this time. This time, I become whole. I become you. The thing I worshiped for so many years. Look at me now. Look how much stronger, how much more beautiful I’ve become. You are the last spoke on the wheel, Chavi. The tattoo will be complete.”
“But to get it from me, to get this last piece of my soul, you have to kill me, right?”
“Yes.”
“And it has to be you. No one else.”
“Yes,” he said. “So put the gun down, and I will release the boy.”
For a long moment, Anna didn’t move.
Then she raised the gun higher. Put it to her temple.
Mikola’s eyes went wide. “What are you doing?”
“My terms are simple,” Anna said. “Let the boy go, or I shoot myself.”
He scowled at her. “You are a madwoman!”
“What’s mine is mine, brother. It isn’t much, but it’ll be lost to you forever if you don’t let him go.” She looked at Evan. “It’s okay. He won’t hurt you. Go upstairs.”
But Evan didn’t budge. Just stared at her, his body shaking.
“Go, Evan. Now!”
The boy finally got to his feet, Mikola making no move to stop him. But as Evan started toward the stairs, Anna made the mistake of following him with her gaze, and before she caught herself — Mikola sprang from the cot, diving into her, slamming her to the floor.
The impact knocked the wind out of her and the Glock went flying, Mikola straddling her as he brought the knife up, ready to plunge it into her chest — but as his hand came down, Anna twisted beneath him and the knife sank into her shoulder instead.
Hot white pain shot through her, more pain than she could ever remember feeling, as — Mikola pulled the knife free, bringing it up again, and — Anna dug frantically into her back pocket, trying to grab hold of the backup weapon she’d bought.
Then she had it and brought her hand up, jabbing the business end of a stun gun into Mikola’s side, sending a hundred thousand volts of electricity through him.
He howled, rolling away from her, and she hit him again, then again “Run, Evan! Run!”
— and Evan didn’t need any more encouragement. He tore up the steps as Anna searched frantically for the Glock, wanting to get this over with once and for all. But she couldn’t find it. Not enough light.
But then she spotted the knife on the floor and dove for it — but just as the fingers of her free hand brushed the blade — Mikola grabbed the handle and brought the knife up, furiously swiping at her. The blade caught her cheek and she dropped the stun gun, reaching for her face, blood gushing between her fingers.
But Mikola was still trembling from the shock of the stun gun and dropped the knife before he could do any more damage.
Anna jumped to her feet and kicked at him, connecting with bone, then turned and ran for the stairs, her shoulder and cheek on fire, blood leaking from the wounds. She took the steps two at a time and saw Evan standing in the center of the mirror maze, staring at hundreds of his own reflection, not knowing where to go.
Anna grabbed hold of him and swept him up into her arms, heading for the maze as Mikola roared behind her, running up the steps, about to go into a diving tackle, when A shotgun blast rang out, shattering a mirror, shards flying and — Anna threw herself to the floor, covering Evan with her body, as Pope stepped through the hole he’d made and fired again, sending a charge straight into Mikola’s chest.
The gypsy flew backwards, tumbling down the hole, his greasy red baseball cap fluttering onto his lifeless body.
4 7
“ It’s wrong,” McBride said. She seemed delirious. “It’s all wrong.”
It had taken two more shotgun blasts to get them out of the mirror maze quickly.
When they reached the lobby, Pope took Evan from McBride’s arms and set him down, then yanked his shirt off, bunched it up, and shoved it against her cheek, which was bleeding pretty badly.
The shoulder would have to wait.
“You weren’t supposed to kill him,” McBride said.
Pope tucked the 590 under his arm. “Give me your phone.”
When she didn’t respond, he reached into her pocket and pulled it out, dialing 911.
A moment later the operator came on the line. “We have a shooting death,” he said, “at the abandoned Big Mountain amusement park in Allenwood. And another person down with major injuries.”
“It was supposed to be me,” McBride said. “I was the one who was supposed to kill him.”
“We’re near the roller coaster, in front of the house of mirrors. Get an ambulance out here right away.”
He hung up, McBride still babbling. “You remember what Madam Zala told me? It isn’t over. His soul will move on to the next life.”
“Maybe she’s wrong.”
“No, no. He’s evil, Danny. This isn’t over. He’s still-”
Pope grabbed her shoulders. “I can’t worry about what might happen twenty years from now. He’s dead and you’re alive. That’s all that matters to me. You’re alive. And so is Evan.” He released her and took Evan’s hand. “Now let’s get out of here.”
They moved to the entranceway doors, and Pope pushed them wide, stepping into the sunlight, which seemed brighter than before. Then he turned, looking at McBride’s shoulder.
“It’s a clean puncture, not bleeding too bad. The ambulance should be here any minute.”
“I’m afraid that will be too late,” a voice said.
Pope turned sharply.
Standing in the shade of the roller coaster, his nose broken, a pistol in hand — was Arturo.
“I saw the phone on the ground and thought I had lost you,” he said. “But all good things come to those who wait.” He smiled. “Mr. Troy sends his regards.”
And as Pope reacted, fumbling for his shotgun, Arturo pointed the pistol at him and pulled the trigger.
Anna saw the bullet hit in slow motion.
It tore into Pope’s chest, spinning him sideways. Blood erupted and he went down hard as — the stranger shifted his gaze to Anna and — she dove toward Evan, knocking him aside, reaching for the Mossberg 590, which hadn’t yet hit the ground, as — the stranger squeezed the trigger, the bullet blowing past Anna and Evan, hitting the pavement behind them.
Anna’s hands grabbed the 590, which wasn’t a light and easy weapon to handle, by any means, as — the stranger adjusted his angle and squeezed the trigger a third time, and — Anna rolled, narrowly avoiding the hit, then pumped the barrel and came up firing, knowing the Mossberg only held five rounds and that four had already been expended. If this shot didn’t connect, she was dead-and so was Evan.
The shotgun roared, bucking hard against Anna’s already-wounded shoulder, pain reverberating through her body as the charge flew, and she had no idea if she’d hit anything, until she was on the ground, and realized the stranger had stopped firing.
Fighting against her pain, she scrambled to her feet and saw him lying about five yards away.
Half of his face was missing.
Motherfucker.
“Evan?” she shouted, and the boy started to cry again.
Anna turned and saw him sitting on the ground nearby, banged up, but still in one piece.
Then there was a groan behind her and she spun around, moving to Pope, who lay on his back on the mottled pavement, his chest bloody, his breathing ragged and labored, his eyes staring blankly at the sky.
“I think I’m hit,” he said, and she fell to her knees beside him, grabbing his hand — Oh, god, oh, god — but there was nothing she could do for him, he’d be gone soon, and tears flooded her eyes as she looked down at him, not knowing what to say, wantin
g desperately to rewind the clock, to take it all back — and then his eyes shifted slightly, as if he’d seen something in some far-off place.
He said, “Ben?”
— then stopped breathing, stopped moving, all the gears grinding to an abrupt halt.
Anna just sat there, tears falling, not quite believing what had happened here, not wanting to let go. Evan was still crying, too, but she couldn’t find the strength to move, couldn’t go to him, as sirens wailed in the distance, signaling that help was on its way.
But what did it matter?
Pope was gone, Evan’s family wiped out, Susan in jail, little Jillian Carpenter taken long before her time, and all Anna could claim in return was a small scrap of her gypsy soul.
Red Cap had won. He may have been lying at the bottom of those steps, but he still had most of their soul and would carry it on to another life, another time.
And when he realized who he was and what he needed to do, it would start all over again. She would never be free.
Never.
But then it suddenly occurred to Anna.
Time.
What if she could rewind the clock?
What if she could take it all back?
What is the harm, Mikola had said, in simply looking into the mirrors and asking that they take you where you wish to go?
Just like Peabody and Sherman. Her own personal wayback machine.
Was it possible?
Could it be done?
She was, after all, Chavi Zala, the gypsy witch, one of the most powerful chovihanis the Zala family had ever seen.
All she had to do, Madam Zala had told her, was look beyond her reflection, and when she ceased to see herself, she’d see the world, all the way back to its beginning, and forward, to eternity.
And suddenly Anna knew where she needed to go. What moment in time. The only moment where she knew he was certain to be, a part of the past that could be replayed and retooled, and would change everything that came after.
Getting to her feet, she shuffled over to Evan, crouching beside him, putting her arms around him.
“It’ll be all right, hon. Everything’s gonna be all right. You hear the sirens?”
Evan wiped his face, nodded.
“They’re coming to help you,” Anna said. “To take you away from here. But I can’t go with you. I have to go back inside.”
“No,” Evan whimpered, grabbing hold of her arms. “Don’t go.”
“I have to, dear. But I promise, I’m going to make it better. Everything will be better. All your hurt will go away forever.”
“No,” Evan cried, clinging to her, but she pried herself loose and stood.
“I’ll make it better,” she said. “You’ll see.”
And then she turned, shuffling back toward the entrance to the building.
Back toward the magic mirror maze.
Back into the past.
4 8
Jillian Carpenter moved down the street, approaching the Rambler parked just outside of Carl’s Liquor Store.
“What are you doing?” Suzie Oliver asked, sounding a little nervous.
“I wanna look inside,” she said.
“What?” Suzie sounded alarmed now.
“Just a quick look,” Jillian said. “I’m not gonna get in or anything.”
“What if somebody catches you?”
“I’ll tell him we thought it was your uncle’s car.”
Moving up to the driver’s window, Jillian peered inside, cupping her hands for a better view, then crouching down a little to look at the locket dangling from the rearview mirror.
Then Jillian moved to the Rambler’s rear passenger window, staring into the back, before something on the rear windshield caught her attention.
A parking sticker.
“Come on, Jillian, let’s go,” Suzie said. “Somebody’s gonna come.”
Jillian turned, looking at her friend, then headed back and grabbed Suzie’s hand.
“Race you home,” she said, then they broke away from each other and ran.
As they tore past Carl’s, Mikola Zala stepped out of the liquor store, and watched them intently. Taking a last drag off of his cigarette, he tossed it aside and crossed to the Rambler, quickly unlocking it and climbing inside.
This was Anna’s cue to move.
Opening the Honda Civic’s door-the Honda Civic she’d stolen from the Big Mountain parking lot-she got out and crossed the street toward the Rambler.
“Excuse me,” she said, waving her hand at Mikola.
He started the engine, paying her no attention.
“Excuse me,” she said again, and he turned, scowling at her, rolling down his window.
Anna knew she must’ve been a sight, with her wounded shoulder and the gash in her cheek.
But Mikola didn’t seem to notice. “What do you want, woman?”
“You don’t remember me, Mikola?”
He looked surprised. “How do you know my…”
Then the surprise turned to recognition as he looked into her eyes.
“Chavi?”
“That’s right, motherfucker.”
Anna raised her Glock, touching it to his chest. Before he could react, she said, “ Mine.”
Then she pulled the trigger.
PART FOUR
Continuity
4 9
On APRIL 14, 1981, Anna Elizabeth McBride ceased to exist. There are no records of her birth to be found.
Two weeks later, the girl who carried Anna’s soul celebrated her eleventh birthday at the Big Mountain amusement park, with her mother, Delilah, her stepfather, Craig, and her best friend, Suzie Oliver.
Later that night, as a special surprise birthday present, Craig gave Jillian a puppy, which she promptly named Stinky, Jr.
During a poker game, at approximately 2:00 a.m. on November 16, 2007, Oasis Hotel-Casino owner and reputed organized crime figure Anderson Troy bit into a slice of pepperoni and onion pizza and began to gag.
When those around him failed to administer the Heimlich maneuver, he promptly choked to death.
Three weeks later, Troy’s loyal manservant, Arturo Medina, was arrested for the murder of the hotel chef who had prepared Troy’s pizza.
An undercover investigation into Troy’s illegal activities was promptly abandoned.
On May 12, 2009, Evan Fairweather and his little sister, Kimberly, attended the wedding of their mother, Rita, who married a visiting certified public accountant named Hans Crawford, whom she had met at the bar where she worked three nights a week.
The family moved away from Ludlow to Santa Barbara, California, where Crawford lived on an acre of land. Crawford later filed papers to adopt the children, both of whom took his name.
The children’s biological father never attempted to find them and his whereabouts are currently unknown.
5 0
Jillian Carpenter was sitting on a bench in the middle of the Midstreet Mall in Northern Las Vegas when she saw her.
“Oh, my god,” she said, getting to her feet. “Suzie? Suzie Oliver?”
The woman, who was standing outside of Kern’s Drug Store, turned, a startled look on her face.
Then her eyes registered recognition. “Jillian?”
Within seconds, the two women were hugging each other, Jillian having a bit of trouble, because of the beach ball attached to her abdomen.
She was seven months pregnant.
“This is unbelievable,” Suzie said. “How long has it been?”
“Since freshman year in high school. I’ll never forgive you for moving away.”
“Oh, god, remember that last night, when we were both crying like crazy?”
Jillian nodded. “I think my mom had to go out and buy more Kleenex.”
They laughed; then Suzie looked down at Jillian’s belly. “How many months?”
“Seven,” Jillian said. “I’m way too old to be doing this, but it was now or never.”
“Congratulations.”<
br />
“What about you? Do you have any kids?”
Suzie smiled, digging into her purse. “Uh-oh, out come the pictures.”
She brought out her cell phone, flicked a button, and showed the screen to Jillian. Two attractive teens stared up at her. “James and Lisa. Thirteen and sixteen.”
“They’re gorgeous,” Jillian said.
“Fortunately, they look just like their father.”
“Oh, stop it. You’re as beautiful as ever.”
Suzie laughed and shook her head. “God, I’ve missed you, Jills. I think about you all the time.”
“Me, too,” Jillian said, feeling a hitch in her throat. “Oh, crap, I think I’m gonna cry.”
“That’s just the hormones.”
“No kidding. I’ve got ’em to spare.”
They laughed again, and a voice rang out behind them.
“ There you are. We’ve been looking all over for you.”
Jillian turned.
“Oh, good,” she said, “you’re just in time. I want you to meet my best friend in the whole world, Susan Leah Oliver.”
“Fenton,” Suzie corrected. “I left the name Oliver behind a long time ago.”
“Well, Susan Fenton, this is my husband, Danny, his cousin Jake, and Jake’s wife, Ronnie.”
They all shook hands, then Susan frowned. “This is gonna sound strange, but I think we went to high school together. You’re Danny Pope, right?”
“You’re from Ludlow?”
“Yes and no,” Suzie told him. “When my family left Salcedo, we moved to Ludlow, but we only lived there for about four months. But I remember, you used to work at The Hungry Spoon. I’d go in there once in a while and get a slice of pie.”
Danny nodded. “That’s right, I remember now. French apple, right?”
Suzie laughed. “Right.” She looked at Jillian. “So how did you two meet?”
“In college, actually. We both had the same major, so we shared a lot of classes, and it was pretty much love at first sight. I don’t know, but the minute I saw him, I felt like we’d known each other forever. Right, Danny?”
Kill Her Again Page 26