Chapter 28
Quinn
My stomach was growling. It was way past dinner time. Where the hell was Keith and that steak he promised? Groaning, I picked up Zane’s tablet, deciding that reading would keep my mind off food. It might have worked if the book wasn’t about the apocalypse and the main character wasn’t perpetually starving. The first paragraph was all about the main character’s hunger pains, for fuck’s sake. I had to put it down.
The door opened. “We got a surprise for you, Sweet Pea,” Keith sang.
Taven grinned.
What the hell were these two up to?
Cautiously, I got to my feet, fidgeting with my hands. “What is it?”
Keith nodded his head towards the door. “You’ll see.”
Swallowing hard, I followed Taven, and Keith’s footsteps crunched through the grass behind me. A gust of wind picked up, causing goosebumps to prickle along my skin. The nights were getting colder. If my internal timekeeping was correct, it would be Halloween in a few days.
We were headed for the fun house. What type of surprise could possibly be waiting for me in there? Did they decide they weren’t going to keep me? Were they going to lock me back in that little cage? Or were they going to filet me like a fish?
“W-what’s going on?” I stuttered. Of course, the guys remained silent, leading me along like a cow to slaughter.
I stopped short when I saw someone strapped to a chair. I couldn’t see their face; it was covered by a rubber pig mask. “What’s happening?”
“This is our gift,” whispered Keith, placing his hands on my shoulders as he leaned his face close to my ear. “We think you’ll really enjoy this.”
Zane, holding his side and wincing with every movement, pulled the man’s mask off. At first, I didn’t recognize him—not until he opened his light gray eyes. “Mr. Franklyn?” I turned to Keith. “What are you doing? Let him go!”
Keith snorted, “You won’t want me to do that, not after you hear what he has to say.”
Zane ripped the tape from the old man’s mouth. The bright red ball gag underneath would have been almost comical in any other circumstance, but given the situation, it just made everything that much worse. The moment it was unfastened, Mr. Franklyn cried, “Quinn, what is going on? Who are these men? What do they want with me?”
I had no idea what was happening and no answers. “What is this about? Why would you bring my old neighbor?”
“Tell her what you did, old man,” Taven demanded with a toothy grin.
The wrinkles on the aged face seemed to become deeper with every passing second. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
A blade was pulled from Keith’s pocket, and he used it to clean his nails. “Talk about the night you called the cops on her and her fiancé. Tell her why you did it.”
Mr. Franklyn’s eyes were as round as saucers. “…I called because… I thought she was in danger.”
Keith’s eyes snapped up from the knife. “Really? Is that the whole truth?”
Mr. Franklyn scowled. “It is the truth!”
Keith tossed the open knife onto a nearby surgical table. “Zane, would you be so kind as to jog his memory?”
He pulled out his phone, held it out to me, and pressed play on a video. By the end, it felt like static was ricocheting in my brain. My blood boiled. All I could hear was the old man saying, “I don’t give a damn if the kid died. Serves him right!”
Keith’s voice broke into my thoughts. “You see, he didn’t call the cops because he thought you were in danger. He called them because you were being loud. Your fiancé would still be alive if he had only knocked on your door and asked you to keep it down.”
Mr. Franklyn was begging, crying, and pleading. He was doing the same thing I did when Luke died; sobbing and praying for someone to save him. My heart raced, and butterflies danced in my stomach. Shut up. How dare you ask for forgiveness? Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.
“Shut up!” I cried. I didn’t realize my hand picked up the knife. I didn’t know I stabbed the old man’s neck. I didn’t notice the blood spraying on my face. I didn’t hear a sound until I heard my own scream.
As the rage settled, I staggered back, looking at my handy work. Mr. Franklyn’s head drooped as blood sprayed from his neck and dribbled out of his lips. He coughed, letting out one long wheeze before his breathing stopped completely. What have I done?
Keith grabbed my wrist and used two fingers to pluck the blade from my hand, dropping it into a plastic bag.
“Congratulations, Sweet Pea. You’re just like us now. A cold-blooded killer.”
There was no point in trying to control the sob that ripped from my body. It would have done no good. Keith was right. I was just like them. A murderer. What was I going to do? How could I do that? “I didn’t mean to,” I whimpered.
Zane caressed my cheek gently with his thumb. “We know. You won’t go down for this, Quinn. As long as we stay out of jail, you stay out of jail.”
“You set me up.”
“Only a little,” Keith muttered. “The reality is, Quinn, none of us want to lose you. We didn’t want to hurt you. This man was a gift. We brought him here so he could confess his sins so you could get a little peace. I put the knife down and hoped you would pick it up. But not in a million years did I think you would actually do it. The choice to kill was all you, baby girl.”
Another sob left me.
“The rage we saw in your eyes is the same rage we feel every day the people on our list walk free.” Taven ran his hand under my chin. “We aren’t killing these cops because we like it. It’s blood for blood.”
I sucked in a deep breath, trying to calm my breathing. “Why are you doing it? If you aren’t a bunch of psychopaths, then why? I don’t understand any of this!”
A pair of strong arms wrapped me in a tight hug, and it took me a moment to realize it was Keith. Pressing my nose into his shirt, I inhaled the scent of cinnamon and motor oil. “Let’s talk back in the gift shop, Sweet Pea. We will answer any and all questions.”