Slaughter Series

by A. I. Nasser

  You can’t go now.

  “Why the hell not?”

  Think about it, cupcake. You just found out about John’s little side project. You’ve been avoiding him since, and I don’t blame you. But, how do you think he feels?

  “I really don’t care how he feels,” she whispered back. “He wanted me gone anyway. Might as well.”

  I get it, I really do, but when you’re gone, whose arms do you think he’s going to go running to? Who do you think he’s going to bitch and scream about you to?

  Karen took a long drag from her cigarette and stared at the Greens’ house.

  And let me tell you something, cupcake. She’s going to welcome him with open arms.

  Karen felt the cigarette’s flame at her fingertips as she let it burn down to the filter before throwing it onto the wet grass. She instantly grabbed for another one, lighting it up as the flames danced in her eyes. She stared at the twin Victorian down the road, looking from one window to the other, wondering which one looked out from Eva Green’s room.

  Do you really want to go and leave him here with her?

  Karen felt her brow furrow as her tears quickly dried up, her self-pity quickly displaced with anger.

  I’ll tell you what, go. If you really can’t stand being here anymore, then go. But don’t be surprised if he decides to stay here and leave you a hundred miles away.

  “I might get some closure,” Karen said, knowing fully how unconvincing she sounded. “Free myself from all this and run away.”

  Stop being a drama queen. You know you can’t do that.

  “Then what do you suggest?”

  The voices went silent, and Karen wasn’t surprised. At the end of the day, they were her own thoughts, and they were equally ignorant as to what she was supposed to do now.

  Do you want to be free?

  Karen nodded.

  You need to get rid of the girl. Then you can do whatever you want.

  Karen took a long drag from her cigarette as a small smile appeared on her otherwise emotionless face.

  Chapter 17

  “And ever since then, I’ve been ridin’ the lightinin’ alone.”

  John felt his head growing heavy as he listened to Hank talk about his life in Cafeville. On any other day, his story would have probably been interesting, a nice touch to an otherwise dreary conversation. On any other day, John would have been taking mental notes of various details, hoping to find some way to weave Hank’s story into one of his own, even create a protagonist out of him for his next book.

  But today wasn’t one of those days.

  John took several gulps from his beer before slamming it back down on the bar. He felt like he was going to fall off his stool, and when Hank’s hand rested on his shoulder to steady him, he realized that four beers were more than enough for one evening. Besides, he didn’t want to go home drunk. He didn’t want Karen seeing him like this.

  “I think you’re done for tonight, buddy,” Hank chuckled.

  John nodded, his head spinning, his eyelids heavy as he rested his head against the palm of his hand. “I need to get home, Hank,” he said, his voice slurred.

  “Well, you’re in absolutely no shape t’drive,” Hank said, searching John’s pockets and relieving him of his keys. “How ‘bout I take you home? I could drive your car back to your place tomorrow and bring the exterminator along.”

  John smiled, resting a friendly hand on Hank’s shoulder as he tried his best to stand straight. “That would be excellent.”

  Hank wrapped an arm around his shoulders and nodded at Denny, mouthing the word ‘tab’ to him as the two of them trudged out of the bar and into the cold night air.

  ***

  Eva Green was less than happy when she opened her front door and saw Karen standing in front of her.

  Eva had recently been reprimanded by her advisor over the large number of homework assignments she had missed, the man berating her in a long email full of words like ‘immature’ and ‘lazy’, ending with a conclusion about how long distance learning was about more than sitting at home and pretending to be a college student.

  Needless to say, her recent infatuation with John Krik had taken her mind off of what mattered, and she was suffering the consequences. She had a lot of catching up to do, and despite her father’s help, Eva was still a long way from making up for her lack of promptness. Seeing Karen at her front door was the last thing she needed now.

  Karen Krik was smiling at her, carrying what Eva could only assume from the smell coming out from under the lid, was a homemade cooking experiment gone wrong.

  “Can I help you?” she asked, less than friendly, the door only half open as she looked at the brunette with her ridiculous smile. What the hell did John see in her?

  “Hi, my name’s Karen, from next door,” the woman said, a little too cheerfully. “I wanted to come over and say hi, although I admit it’s a couple of weeks late.”

  Eva looked at her suspiciously, eyeing the tray in her hands, wondering how to respond to the gesture.

  “I know,” Karen said. “It’s not usual for the new folks to greet their neighbors, but I was getting a little too fidgety. I’m used to knowing my neighbors.”

  Eva forced a smile, hoping that it would be enough to send the woman back home. “I’m sorry, but my father isn’t here. Maybe you can come back later?”

  “That’s a shame,” Karen said, pouting and handing Eva the tray. “Well, this is from us. I really wanted to get to meet you and your father, seeing as my husband’s already made your acquaintance.”

  Eva frowned. “Your husband?”

  Karen nodded, her smile unfaltering. “John, from next door,” she said. “He’s my husband. I thought you already knew that.”

  Eva felt a chill run down her spine as her hands gripped the tray tighter. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’ve never actually met your husband. But thank you for this.” She stepped back into the house, shutting the door behind her.

  Karen reached out quickly and stopped her. Eva pulled her arm away and stared at the woman angrily, challenging her, ready to give her a piece of her mind despite the other woman’s smile.

  “I’m sorry,” Karen said. “I find that very hard to believe.”

  “And why is that?”

  “Well, you have been sleeping with him, after all.”

  Eva froze in her place, her eyes locked onto the brunette’s, her body shivering as the woman’s smile faded and was replaced with a nasty scowl. Karen didn’t look very friendly anymore.

  “What do you want?” Eva asked, not even bothering to deny the allegation, thinking that if Karen was confident enough to boldly confront her like this, then John must have told her everything.

  Karen’s voice suddenly changed. “I want to see that pretty little face burn.”

  Eva dropped the tray onto the floor, quickly reaching out to slam the door shut, but Karen had anticipated the move. She pushed her shoulder against the door, forcing it to swing completely open as it slammed against the wall, her hands immediately reaching out for Eva and only missing by a few inches. Eva turned to run, Karen slipping on the tray of food and falling hard on her knees, desperately grabbing for the blonde’s ankle as she fell.

  Eva screamed, racing to the stairs and running up, not daring to look back, fearing that if she did, the other woman would be on her within seconds. She took the stairs as fast as she could, tripping in despair and pushing forward on all fours until she was on the second-floor landing. She could hear Karen behind her, footsteps heavy as she chased her.

  Eva rushed into her bedroom, slammed the door behind her and locked it, instantly moving away. She screamed when Karen hurled herself against the door, rattling it on its hinges, desperately fighting with the knob as she tried to force herself inside. More slamming followed as Karen, frustrated, realized that there was no way in without breaking down the door.

  Eva looked around her, panicking, trying to find anything she could use as a weapon, her
tears falling in torrents down her face as the slamming continued. She raced around her bed, trying desperately to find her cell phone and crying out in despair when she remembered she had left it in the kitchen.

  Glancing at her laptop, she quickly raced to it and clicked on the Skype icon, praying that any one of her contacts was online. She could reach them, have them call the police. She waited for the program to open, and when it didn’t, realized that her Wi-Fi was disconnected. She was running out of ideas, and the slamming at her door was not letting up.

  The window.

  She raced to it, sliding the glass upwards as she looked down at the two-story drop. She could do it. She had to do it. There was nowhere else to go.

  Eva slid one leg out through the open window, bracing herself against the sill, hoping her years of gymnastics training would finally come in handy. By the time she had her other leg out and was desperately balancing her weight on her stomach and arms, the attack on her door stopped.

  Eva froze, wondering where Karen had gone. Had she heard the window? She doubted it. There was no way Karen could have heard her moving in the midst of the commotion. Eva struggled with whether or not to actually risk the drop, and when she finally realized that her choices were to stay locked in the house with a crazy woman or take the chance and get out alive, she let herself go.

  On any other day, the drop wouldn’t have been all that bad. On any other day, she would have remembered to drop and roll, relieving any pressure on her legs and only sustaining a few scratches and bruises. This wasn’t any other day, though, and her mind was clouded with fear. She landed on her feet, the pain instantly soaring up her legs and to her back, her ankle spraining as she fell to the ground in agony.

  She desperately tried to push herself up, accidentally stepping on the wrong ankle and falling down to her knees again as she screamed in pain.

  Get up. She had to get up.

  She fought through the tears stinging her eyes and forced herself to her feet, resting her weight on her good leg as she began to wobble forward.

  When Karen grabbed her by the hair, pulling her head back and bringing her down on her back, Eva screamed out as loud as she could, hoping somebody, anybody, would hear her. She looked up at the brunette standing over her, a manic grin on the older woman’s face, and desperately tried to push away.

  Karen kicked her in her side, hard, and Eva cried out as she felt her entire rib cage shudder with the force of the blow. She turned around, and was rewarded with another kick to her midsection that forced the air out of her lungs and had her coughing in the mud. Karen grabbed Eva by the hair, pulling the girl roughly to her feet and dragging her back around the house. Eva tried to fight, thrashing at the woman as she tried to free the pressure that threatened to rip her hair out from the roots, but each attempt was rewarded with another kick.

  Eva gave in, too tired to fight, desperately trying to stay on her feet as Karen pulled her into the kitchen and threw her to the ground. The linoleum floor felt cold against her skin, her hands slipping across it as she attempted to push herself up.

  “That’s the problem with you Greens,” Karen said, opening drawers and rummaging through them as Eva slid away from her. “You think you can take whatever you want and there won’t be any consequences.”

  Eva cried out again when Karen kicked her in the back, the pain from the blow soaring through her spine. Suddenly she felt the familiar tug on her hair and was pulled up into a sitting position. Eva blinked through the tears, Karen’s face inches from her own, swimming in and out of focus.

  “Time to teach you Greens a lesson.”

  Eva felt the blade of the knife slide in between her ribs, deep, puncturing her lungs as she gasped at the sudden invasion. She felt the breath race out of her, and grabbed onto Karen’s arm as the woman pulled away.

  The world around her began to spin, and when Eva coughed, blood shot out of her mouth in wide splatters onto the kitchen floor.

  No longer supported, she slumped down, her eyes staring out into space, the haziness she had first experienced quickly fading into complete darkness.

  ***

  The first thing John registered was the smell of smoke. That was quickly followed by sirens and flashing lights.

  “What the hell?”

  John was about to say something in reply when Hank turned the corner onto their street and the world lit up in bright colors of orange, red and blue. John’s mouth dropped open.

  Fire rose from the Greens’ Victorian house like tongues licking at the sky. The flames engulfed the entire construction, raging with heated fury, illuminating the entire street as firefighters tried their best to control the situation. Barricades had been set up all around, a small crowd having had gathered to watch as the house burned. Hank pulled up to the curb, a few yards away from John’s house as both men stepped out of the truck with wide eyes.

  John caught sight of David Green as the man wrestled with two officers, trying to break through the barricade, screaming at the top of his lungs at the flames that were engulfing his home. John scanned the crowd, looking for Eva, his heart racing as he failed to find her, his eyes instantly falling back to the burning house and what her absence probably meant. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

  “What in God’s name happened here?” Hank exclaimed, taking his cap off slowly as his eyes followed the dancing flames.

  John feared the worst and trudged behind Hank as they slowly made their way forward, mesmerized by the chaos in front of them. The firefighters were attacking the flames from three different directions, water shooting into the house as the men desperately worked to put it out. He didn’t know much about fires, but John was certain that no matter what they did, the house was gone.

  Probably with everything inside, too, Johnny-boy.

  John felt his stomach turn. Had Eva been inside when the fire started? Was she still inside now? He could almost see her body sizzling in flames, the fire eating her with everything else, turning her into nothing but a corpse of ash. He shook the image away, praying to God that he was wrong, but there was an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach.

  Murphy’s Law, Johnny-boy. Remember that?

  John turned to his own house.

  Karen was standing on the porch, arms crossed over her chest as she watched the fire from a safe distance away. She seemed incredibly calm, the light of the flames dancing across her face and throwing shadows around her. She looked peaceful, as if the fire were calming her down, her lack of emotion troubling in more ways than one.

  She slowly turned to John, their eyes meeting, and in the shadows of the flames, she smiled.

  Chapter 18

  Sheriff Walter Garland felt like hell.

  He pulled his cruiser up to the station, turning off the motor and sitting back with a frown. His eyes scanned the people walking back and forth across Gale Street, going about their business as they strode across the sidewalks, moving in and out of shops. He recognized many of the faces, a lot of the older ones he had grown up with. The younger, more vigilante ones had been only children when he had become Cafeville’s Sheriff.

  He envied them. He envied the melancholy with which they went about their lives, most oblivious to what was happening right under their noses in their own town, the others ignoring things completely.

  One would think that a small town brought about a kind of charm, where everyone knew everyone else, but Cafeville had changed over the years. The population had grown to almost a thousand, a number that would have been ludicrous a decade or two ago. There were times he would look outside his office window and not recognize more than two or three people walking by.

  The competition between the founding families had done that. Healthy competition at first, but one that had grown quite sinister near the end. Still, the family feuds had brought more good to the town than harm, and Walter had been one of the first to pop open a bottle of champagne when it was finally over.

  Thirty years without any incid
ents.

  Thirty years, and now this.

  Walter Garland shook his head in dismay as he heaved himself out of his cruiser and trudged towards the station. He had spent the last two days interviewing witnesses and going over forensic reports, and he was beyond tired. Insomnia, coupled with age, made the tragedy at the Green house more and more difficult to deal with. And all this just two years before his retirement.

  He walked into the station, barely acknowledging his deputies as he kept his head low and made straight for his office. Unlike regular days when half the workforce would be kicking up their feet and just waiting for their shifts to end, everyone in the station seemed to be bustling about. They were already understaffed, but that had never bothered Walter. Nothing really happened in Cafeville that couldn’t be solved with a simple conversation and a pat on the back.

  Except for arson, of course. And murder. Those were two completely different things.

  Walter didn’t buy the initial reports of a gas leak. He knew the Greens; he knew all the founding families, or whoever was left of them. A gas leak would have been perfectly understandable if the family wasn’t paranoid and didn’t have everything in their house triple checked on a weekly basis. Hank Pollard’s business strived on the Greens, and it would be out of the question that Hank would miss something like faulty piping.

  Besides, after interviewing the Kriks, Walter had a sinking feeling that there was more to this story than met the eye.

  He shuddered as he slowly sat back in his chair, running his hands thoughtfully over his desk as he randomly organized papers and files. His mind kept returning to his latest interview with John and Karen Krik, the experience a little too familiar, too uneasy. He had known that something was terribly wrong the minute he had pulled up to the Victorian; it was as if a terrible weight had landed on his chest and threatened to suffocate him.

  The last time he had set foot near that house was almost thirty years ago, and it was like he had just been there yesterday. The house was just as forlorn, and it had taken all his willpower not to jump back into his cruiser, turn around and drive the hell away. It was like the damn thing had been laughing at him, the wooden frames of its door twisting into the illusion of a grin.