by Bryan Smith
She giggled. “Almost.”
He made a low sound deep in his throat. A hungry sound. “Don’t worry about the, uh, surveillance equipment. I turned that shit off the second I saw you.”
“Oh, good.”
Julie had slipped a hand back inside her purse while he was preoccupied with the task of molesting her. She turned around as her hand came out of the purse and thrust herself against him, half-feigning lust again as she got her right hand up and ready to strike. Half-feigning, because she actually was sort of turned on. He did have a dynamite body. It was kind of a shame, really.
He grabbed her ass and pulled her tighter against him. “Gonna tear your pussy up, girl.”
Julie slammed the big hunting knife into his side, jerked it out, and slammed it in again.
Then again.
And again.
The strikes were rapid, all happening within a few seconds, too fast for him to react efficiently. He shoved her away, causing her to stumble backward on the sidewalk and land hard on her ass. She bounced up and came back at him cobra fast, jamming the knife into his neck as he fumbled for his gun, his weakening fingers unable to get a good grip on the holstered weapon. She pulled the knife out and a gout of blood splashed her chest.
The cop wobbled a moment before crashing to the sidewalk, where he convulsed and spilled blood all over the white concrete. Julie wiped the blood-soaked knife on her shorts and put it back in her purse. The cop was clearly dying and no longer a threat. Julie got down on her hands and knees and rolled him off the sidewalk. She gripped him by his thick ankles and tugged him around so that he fit lengthwise inside the parking space to the immediate left of the cruiser, adjusting his feet so the toes didn’t point straight up. She had to hide the body, at least temporarily, and there was only one way to do it. He was too damn big to drag off behind the building. Someone else would surely come along and see what was happening before she could manage that.
She reached for the handle on the driver-side door.
Mouth agape, she stopped and stared at the emblem on the door.
In the middle of a seal were two words in bold letters:
MALL SECURITY
Julie couldn’t believe it. “Oh. My. Fucking. God!”
The guy she’d just killed wasn’t a real cop at all. She suddenly felt very stupid. There had been some obvious subtleties that should have tipped her to the truth of the situation. The bit about the surveillance equipment seemed particularly telling. At some point the guy realized she’d mistaken him for a real cop and decided to take advantage of that.
Motherfucker!
She was angry as hell, but she knew she had to chill and start dealing with the situation before it got even more out of control. She got inside the still-idling car, found the gearshift, and put it in reverse. She backed up and glanced in the rearview mirror. Some light traffic moved along South Kings Highway, but no one was approaching the drugstore. That wouldn’t last. She backed the car up and began to move it into place. She felt the body catch on the undercarriage and slide forward some, but that part didn’t go as badly as she’d feared. Turning the feet so they lay almost parallel to the ground likely had helped with that. She managed to get the cruiser parked nice and square in the space. Then she opened the door and got the hell out. Another car pulled into the lot just as she was slamming the door shut.
Her heart started trip-hammering again.
Shit! Not now!
The car was a very old and beat-up Oldsmobile. It moved slowly across the lot, almost painfully so, and eventually pulled into the handicapped space right outside the front door. Julie watched the car carefully and quickly became impatient. The driver was taking his or her sweet fucking time getting out. But a door finally creaked open and a stoopedover old lady emerged.
Julie wanted to scream. What was it with old women and their late-night trips to Walgreens?
Don’t these bitches ever fucking sleep?
The old lady shut the car’s door in slow motion and began to hobble toward the store. When the automatic door opened, Julie dropped flat on the pavement and reached under the cruiser. The rent-a-cop was dead as fuck. And was sort of all fucked-up after being run over and dragged a little bit with his own car.
She’d wanted the man’s gun, but a closer look at his holster made her screech in frustration. He didn’t have a gun. Of course not. He wasn’t a real cop. He was just some minimum-wage douche bag out for a joy ride on company time. The thing in the holster was some kind of electronic device. A Taser, maybe? Well, shit, it was better than nothing. She grabbed the device, got to her feet, and hurried back into the store.
Roxie and Rob were still arguing in the hair-products aisle.
Of course.
Roxie ceased berating Rob in midsentence and frowned. “Is that a gun?”
Julie sneered. “No, it’s not a fucking gun. It’s a fucking Taser.”
“Where’d you get a fucking Taser?”
“From the fucking guy I killed in the parking lot just now.”
Rob groaned. “Fuck. What is it with you two? Look, murder isn’t the answer to everything. Just once—”
He broke off and stared at something behind Julie. She turned around and saw Tod the manager staring at them from the end of the aisle again. But his air of smug superiority was gone. He was shaking. He held up his hands and started backing away.
Roxie laughed. “Looks like somebody heard something they shouldn’t have. I hate eavesdroppers. Don’t you, Julie?”
“Yes.”
She put her head down and charged the man. He back-pedaled faster a few steps before turning to run, but the soles of his loafers slid on the slick tiles and he fell awkwardly to the floor. His left hand hit the floor at a bad angle and snapped at the wrist. He howled in agony and rolled onto his back in time to see Julie leaning toward him. He opened his mouth to scream again, but by that time she’d already pressed the Taster to his chest. She pressed a button and thousands of volts of electricity poured into his body, making him froth and convulse. When he was done shaking, she zapped him again. And then again.
Someone grabbed her by a shoulder and pulled her away from him. “Stop that before you kill him.”
She pushed the hand away and whirled around. “That’s the point, asshole.” She pressed the Taser against Rob’s chest and savored the way his face paled. “You want some?”
Rob opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out.
Julie pressed the Taser harder against his chest. “I hate you. I’d be having so much more fun with just Roxie.”
Roxie approached them, getting close enough to snag Julie’s attention while still keeping a safe distance. “Julie. Don’t. Okay? I know you’re upset, just…please don’t hurt him.”
“Can’t you see how weak he is? We’d be better off without him.”
The poor bastard looked like he was about to crap his pants. She came very close to shocking him in that moment. The thing that stopped her was a sudden, jarring mental intrusion. It was the recognition of what her life had become, what it was in this very moment, on the edge of this act, versus what it had been a week and a half ago. Within that very short span of time she’d gone from slightly troubled teenager studying for exams to being a person on the verge of murdering her new best friend’s lover.
It was somewhat disorienting.
She lowered the Taser and looked at Roxie. “Sorry. I know I get…out of control sometimes.”
Rob let out a shuddery sound somewhere between a laugh and a terror-stricken moan. “Yeah. Yeah. That’s right. You could say that.”
Roxie stepped between them and steered Rob away from her. “Shut up, Rob. Let’s get the fuck out of here.”
The three of them started moving toward the exit.
A metallic click stopped them in their tracks. Julie turned around and saw the old lady from the beat-up Oldsmobile. She clutched a little revolver in her gnarled hands. The hammer was cocked and the barrel was aimed right at
Julie’s chest.
“Y’all ain’t goin’ nowhere.”
Julie imagined a bullet ripping through her body, could almost feel the searing agony. It was too easy to imagine the messy aftermath. Those last dreadful moments as her life drained away. It was easy to imagine because she’d caused it to happen to several people now.
The old lady nodded. “Drop that zapper, you mean little bitch.”
Julie forced her fingers to open and the Taser hit the floor with a clatter, just out of reach of the grasping fingers of Tod, who’d just begun to recover from the jolts he’d received. Right now he didn’t have the strength to sit up and reach for it, but that wouldn’t remain the case for long.
Holy shit, we are as fucked as fuck can be.
The old lady smiled. “Done called the cops. We’ll just stand right here and wait for ’em, I reckon.”
Then something came sailing past Julie’s head, making her flinch. The object hit the old lady square in the center of her face and she staggered backward a few steps before letting go of her cane and crashing to the floor. Julie giggled when she saw the Clairol box hit the floor.
Robin to the rescue. It’s a miracle!
Rob had been holding the package throughout their contentious exchange moments earlier. And now he dashed forward to scoop up the old lady’s gun before she could recover it. Still giggling, she shoved Rob aside and kicked the woman as hard as she could in the stomach, eliciting a pained wheeze. “Take that, you ancient bag of fuck.” She swung her leg back and brought it forward again, driving it hard into her chest. The woman was mewling now, holding her hands up and trying to beg. Julie kicked her a few more times.
Rob’s hand on her shoulder. Again. “Maybe you could stop now.”
She pried the gun out of his hand and shot the old woman in the face.
She smiled. “Okay. Done with her anyway.”
She walked over to Tod, who had just gotten his fingers around the grip of the Taser. A bullet through the top of his head took him out of the game. She dropped the gun in her purse. “Ready to go whenever you guys are.”
She strutted outside and stood in the cool air again. She smiled at the mental image of Roxie’s shell-shocked expression. Roxie was one crazy bitch. When you had shocked the likes of her, you’d really done something noteworthy. Rob and Roxie followed her out of the store seconds later. They all got in the Tercel, with the usual seating arrangement—Rob and Roxie up front, Julie in the back.
Roxie started the car and drove away from the Walgreens at a fast clip. Julie was glad to see it recede and then disappear in the rearview mirror. As over-the-top as her behavior had been, she remained fearful of being caught by the authorities. The video from the Walgreens security cameras would soon be all over the network and cable news outlets. The chances of them eluding the cops much longer, already small, had just grown significantly dimmer. It was looking more and more like Rob was right. Going down in a blaze of glory was the best they could hope for at this point.
So why did she feel so good, with doom at hand?
“That was a hell of a throw, Rob.”
Rob stared straight ahead, refusing to look back at her. “Yeah. I guess.”
“You saved our asses. Were you a major-league pitcher or something in a former life?”
“I just didn’t know what else to do.”
“Well, it was mighty fucking brave of you.”
He didn’t reply to that.
They rode on in silence for several moments. Julie watched the headlights of passing traffic and thought about some things, including the likely imminent end of her life. “Roxie?”
“Yeah?”
“I haven’t been laid in, like, forever.”
More silence. Then Roxie said, “What about it?”
“Could you send Rob back here?”
An even longer silence. Roxie sighed. “Rob, get back there.”
“But—”
Roxie’s voice turned hard. “Now.”
Rob climbed through the gap between the seats. Julie reached for him and pulled him down on top of her. She could feel how ready he already was.
It was hard to be surprised.
She got her mouth real close to his ear and made her voice as soft and quiet as she could. “It turns you on when you watch us kill.”
He didn’t say anything.
He didn’t need to.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
March 27
The blare of a television roused Zoe as she emerged from the embrace of the soundest sleep she’d experienced in some time. She groaned and sat up, still feeling groggy as she rubbed her bleary eyes. She winced at the obnoxious, excited tones of the television-news announcer coming from the living room. Her door was shut, but the volume of the news report was such that the TV might as well have been right there in the room with her. Zoe started feeling a little pissed off. It had been nice to sleep so deeply, undisturbed by thoughts of having to get up at a certain time. It was one of the best things about being on vacation.
Someone was about to get a piece of her mind. And maybe even a swift kick in the ass. She rolled out of bed and scooped up a tank top. She pulled it on and stepped into the still-wet bottom piece of her bikini. Her eyes flicked to the clock on the nightstand to the left of the bed. The digital display showed the time as being after one p.m. Her anger cooled a little. It was hours later than she’d imagined. She was still upset, but the lateness of the hour meant she would come off as kind of psycho if she were to stomp out there and bitch about it. Okay. Fine. She could be more subtle about making her displeasure known. With the right combination of calm, measured tones and carefully chosen words of polite disdain, she could shame the offender just as thoroughly as she could with a loud diatribe.
She strode purposefully out of the bedroom and down the hallway to the living room. The sight that greeted her was so initially puzzling, the last of her anger was instantly forgotten and her complaint went unvoiced.
Her friends were all present. Chuck stood over by the bar in the entertainment area adjacent to the living room. He had a drink in his hand, naturally, but his eyes were focused on the television. He was completely transfixed by what he was seeing and hearing, as was everyone else.
Emily stood behind a sofa parked in front of the large flatscreen television. Annalisa and Sean sat at opposite ends of the sofa, each of them leaning forward and staring intently at the images on the screen. Joe stood away from them, closer to the television, shaking his head as if unable to believe what he was seeing.
Zoe got closer to the television and frowned. “What’s going on?”
Emily’s voice behind her: “A fucking bloodbath, that’s what.”
She looked at the report and saw a shot of a Walgreens parking lot cordoned off with yellow police tape. Within a few moments she knew the drugstore was the scene of a triple homicide. But she was still confused. Yeah, it was a terrible thing, but shit like this happened all the time. It sucked, but America could be a pretty fucking violent place. Why her friends should find this particular incident so mesmerizing was a mystery to her.
“I don’t get it. What’s the big deal?”
Joe glanced at her. “Give it a second. You’ll see.”
Zoe wanted to smack him for not directly answering her question. But her indignation was short-lived as the report soon made the reason clear.
“Oh…shit.”
Joe laughed. “Yeah.”
The crime had occurred in Myrtle Beach, not many miles from where they were now. An uneasy feeling settled over Zoe. The idea that something so horrible had happened so close to where she’d been sleeping at the time disturbed her. She might have crossed paths with the victims or even the perpetrators any number of times over the last few days.
“Does anybody back home know about this?”
Chuck came away from the bar to stand near her. “Zoe, this is CNN. It’s national news. My dad already called, and your folks want you to call them.”
/> Zoe gave him a puzzled look. “What? Why?”
“They’re worried. Want to be sure you’re all right.” He shrugged and the half-empty drink sloshed in his hand. “Fair warning, though. They’re freaked out and want you to come home early.”
“What’s your dad say?”
“You know my dad. Running home would make me a pussy in his eyes.”
Emily snorted. “Right. Can’t have that happening. God forbid.”
Chuck stayed silent, refusing to take the bait. Zoe felt a surge of admiration and new respect for him. It was a downright mature reaction. It stunned her to think he’d seemed as boorish as ever only days ago.
She reached for his free hand and laced her fingers with his. “I’m a grown-up and can make my own decisions. I’m staying. My parents will just have to deal with it. Besides, this shit?” She shrugged. “Happens all the time. Come on, you’re all thinking the same thing. Sucks for the dead people, but this shit’s just random. We’re in no more danger than we were yesterday.”
“Or maybe you’re totally fucking wrong,” Annalisa piped in. She nodded at the television. “Look.”
Zoe focused on the report again. Three side-by-side photos appeared on the screen, the images of two young women and a man. Names and ages appeared beneath the pictures.
Rob Scott, 23
Julie Cosgrove, 17
Missy Wallace, 20
The three were being sought in connection to the Walgreens triple homicide. All were also suspects in other recent killings. One, the older girl, was suspected in a number of slayings going back at least four years.
She frowned. “That…sort of looks like…”
Chuck grunted. “Yeah. That goth chick.”
Annalisa managed not to sound too smug as she said, “Maybe not so random.”
“Oh, come on.” Emily’s voice dripped contempt. “Maybe that chick really is Chuck’s little goth pal. So what? Ever hear of a thing called coincidence? You can’t really think she followed us all the way from Nashville.”
Annalisa’s tone was just as sharp. “Why not? She’s here.”