Vengeance

by George Willson

  “What about my wounds?” Athena challenged.

  “A single survivor in a wing of five dead women?” Kathy scoffed. “They may wonder, but they won’t care. They are eager and pressured to put this to bed, so they’ll blame whoever they need to blame to get it taken care of, and an angry wife is a perfect candidate for that. And don’t you worry about the one you stashed away in one of these rooms. I’ll make sure they find her as well.”

  “How will you get out?” Athena asked, desperately trying to find any hole in this plan of Kathy’s.

  “An advantage to working here is knowing ways into this wing that even the administrator is unfamiliar with,” Kathy said. “I could wait until they reach that door out there, and still be gone before they can get in. I’ll be home before you can finish your story.”

  “Why are you doing this?”

  “Because Hank screwed me too, Athena,” Kathy said angrily. “And he was the first to go. Enjoy your stay in prison.”

  Kathy turned to leave. Athena drew herself to her feet to make any kind of challenge against Kathy or at least wound her in some way so that there would be some evidence on her that Athena could identify. She thought quickly of anything she would say to stall Kathy’s departure.

  “What about the murder weapon?” Athena asked.

  “It’ll be here,” Kathy said. “Somewhere sensible, but I’m not about to tell you where.”

  “It’s not going to work,” Athena declared.

  “There’s no one left to stop me,” Kathy said. Athena looked around and saw the chairs were not bolted to the floor. She picked one of them up, and with great effort, tossed it at Kathy. Kathy turned and barely sidestepped the chair.

  “There’s still me,” Athena said.

  “You can’t fight me,” Kathy declared.

  “I’m going to try.”

  Athena reached out and grabbed the leg of another chair as Kathy drew her knife and swiped at her. Athena pulled the chair in front of her, stopping Kathy’s blow. Athena stood as Kathy came around for another strike. Athena grabbed the chair again and swung it right back. The knife glanced off the chair and out of Kathy’s hands. Athena swung the chair back and tossed Kathy to the ground.

  Athena limped toward the hall, but Kathy lunged at Athena grabbing her injured ankle and sending Athena to the floor. Kathy crawled on top of Athena as Athena tried to get back to her feet. Kathy rolled Athena over and reached for her neck. Athena grabbed Kathy’s hands, but Kathy was much stronger and Athena knew she couldn’t hold them for long.

  “Come on, Athena,” Kathy urged. “It’s inevitable. Everybody dies. Your death will just be slow and in prison.”

  “I’m not dying today.” Athena brought her knee up between Kathy’s legs, causing Kathy to momentarily relax her grip and she flinched from the hit. Athena broke her wrists free, reeled back and decked Kathy in the face throwing Kathy back to her knees. Before Athena could move, a chair flew over Athena’s head and hit Kathy in the side of the face throwing her to the wall of the room, the chair still on top of her.

  Athena looked behind her to see Darla, still bleeding from the wound in her back and breathing heavily standing behind her. She held a hand out for Athena. Athena took it and rose to her feet, unsteadily. They looked at each other, both wounded, bleeding, and tired.

  “Are you okay?” Darla asked.

  “Yeah, I think so,” Athena nodded. Darla looked at Kathy.

  “Who is it?”

  “Apparently,” Athena explained, “my next door neighbor is Hank’s first wife who he never divorced.” Darla looked at Athena with a sympathetic smile.

  “He didn’t tell you he was married either, huh?” Athena chuckled despite herself and shook her head.

  A sound in the hall drew their attention, and they both walked to where we were busy trying to cut through the door. My first view of the situation as soon as we got that second door open was looking at Athena and Darla and thinking they’d come out of a bloody warzone. Athena was bleeding from her foot and arm, and Darla’s back was covered in blood from the wound she had received. They were likely on the edge of shock from the blood loss, which led Dr. Quired to call out for medical assistance as Athena told us that they had their killer in the gathering room.

  They led us to the room, but the place where they had knocked out Kathy Brackett was empty. They turned back to us and Athena insisted, “She was there.” However, I caught the movement behind them as Kathy emerged from behind the couches and raised her knife.

  “Look out!” I told them as I raised my gun and fired, clipping Kathy in the shoulder. She fell against a table and then hit the floor. The four of us looked over her form on the floor, neither unconscious nor dead, but definitely spent. As they watched, she closed her eyes.

  “Did you kill her?” Darla asked.

  “She’ll recover,” I said.

  EPILOGUE

  Athena and Darla were taken immediately by Quired into another part of the hospital that was staffed and had the medical tools he required to put Athena and Darla back together. We found Ashley still curled up and unconscious in the wardrobe where the women had placed her to keep her safe. We brought her to the room where Athena and Darla were being taken care of, and she woke up after a little smelling salts.

  After their stitches and a firm command to rest for a few days to let their bodies recover, I agreed to take them all home, and Quired decided to walk with us to my car. As we walked down the hall, we saw Kathy being wheeled on a stretcher into a different room to be cared for under heavy guard.

  “What made you come after us?” Athena asked me as we reached the elevator.

  “I was reading the public records we have on all of you again to see if there was anything that might make one of you a killer, and I discovered Brackett is your friend Kathy’s maiden name,” I told them.

  “It’s Kathy Michaels, isn’t it?” Athena said flatly. I nodded.

  “She married Hank Michaels about six years ago when they were in college,” I continued. “Her family helped to put him through. He left her two years later after they graduated, but there was never any divorce filed. She killed him on their anniversary.”

  Quired added, “Tonight, she used her clearance as an employee here to get past security at the gate. That’s the only way she could get to you, and that is certainly something we never even considered.”

  “Well, we have her now,” I assured them, “so you have nothing to worry about. We’ll take good care of her.”

  “I hope so,” Athena said.

  “How is it she lived next door to you and Hank never knew who she was?” Darla asked. Athena shrugged ashamed at her relative obliviousness through this ordeal.

  “I never saw her when he was home,” Athena said. “I told him about her, but he didn’t seem to care. I’m not sure if he realized it or not. The one day they almost crossed paths, she skipped out the back door as he walked in. I guess I know why now.”

  We didn’t say much else about it. Kathy would only be in the Mental Health Facility until she stabilized at which time we would move her to a cell and take care of her there. I dropped off the three of them, checked their individual premises, including the approval of Ashley staying with her boyfriend who popped up almost as soon as we arrived at her dorm. Can’t be too careful, really. His constant presence was likely what kept her alive. Darla’s apartment was also clear, and finally the house where it all began. I walked the perimeter inside and out to make sure no one had decided to help Kathy, which I had doubted at the time. Satisfied that all was well, I bid her a good night, and went home to bid myself one as well.

  It rained on the way home, and while I was not happy with how it turned out, I was grateful that some of them survived and that we caught our killer. But was it over?

  As Athena slept in her bed peacefully for the first time in many days, the rain gave her the white noise she needed to cover those bumps and groans that houses tend to make. It was fortunate because if s
he had been the least bit restless and was looking out the window when the lightning flashed that night, she would have seen a shadow standing outside her window, watching her sleep.

  TO BE CONTINUED

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  George Willson was born in 1975 and has lived in Oklahoma the majority of his life. Following his graduation from Broken Arrow High School in 1993, he had a short tour in the U.S. Army as a trombone player before returning to civilian life in Oklahoma. He started by writing musicals, and eventually collaborated on one that had a small scale production in Sweden at about the same time he had a play produced in Tulsa, Ok in 2001. He became a member of the Simplyscripts.com screenwriting community for a time culminating with the production of a short film, No Better Loved Than Lost, and a feature, No Kind Of Life, both of which he wrote, produced, directed, and performed the soundtrack in 2007 and 2009. He is the director of the Broken Arrow Community Orchestra, plays in his church’s worship team, and still writes music regularly, and can play piano along with a dozen other instruments. He has written four novels for the Fempiror Chronicles series, one called The Maze, and a novella called Atari speaks. He currently lives in Broken Arrow, Ok with his wife and three princesses.