A History Of Violence - Violentine AU

Chapter Eighteen: Sirens

The handgun rattled around on the passenger seat of Clementine's car as she sped down the road. Her hands gripped the wheel until her knuckles turned white.
Clem shook violently, she was starting to come down from the adrenaline high after the shootout at her apartment.
Noticing the street sign, she spun the wheel and turned left. Violet's house was just around the corner. Clementine's heart was beating out of her chest while her mind tormented her with the fear that she would be too late.
Clementine didn't bother going up the driveway, she mounted the curb and put the car into park on the nature strip. She took the pistol and shoved the door open, sprinting up the pathway.
Joan's expensive black Cadillac was parked in the driveway. As she got to the door, she paused when she saw Max standing on the porch with a nervous look in his eye.
He heard her coming and turned to face her.
"Clementine?"
A loud crash came from inside the house, accompanied by what sounded like glass breaking.
"Out of my way, Max." Clem said shakily.
"I... I can't do that." Max stammered.
Clem raised her gun, the tremors running through her arms made it hard to keep it still.
"Max... I don't want to hurt you. But if you don't let me through..."
Clem didn't bother finishing her sentence, Max got the point. In truth, she really didn't want to shoot him, or anyone else tonight.
"Do you know what Joan would do to me if I let you past?" Max whisper-yelled, genuine fear in his voice.
"Max, please... don't do this."
Max glanced over his shoulder into the house and back to Clementine. The pained expression on his face told her that he was having a hard time deciding.
"Fuck it."
He stepped aside, leaving the doorway unobstructed.
"Thank you." Clem said, giving him a nod which he returned.
She entered the house, gun drawn, and followed the sound of voices to the lounge. Stepping over the broken frame of one of Violet's movie posters, Clem noticed the flicks of blood on the shattered glass.
A chill ran through her, she hoped that wasn't Violet's blood.

Clementine rounded the corner from the kitchen and into the lounge, there she saw Violet struggling against Joan, trying to duck down and run away, but she was grabbed by the hair and pulled back. The older woman pulled her towards herself, noticing Clementine and pressing the knife to Violet's throat.
Clementine gasped and raised the gun, pointing at the small portion of Joan's face that was peeking out from behind Violet's shoulder.
"Oh good, you made it." Joan laughed sarcastically.
"Joan, she's got nothing to do with this. Let her go, please."
"You lost the right to ask anything of me, Clementine. You really thought you could go behind my back and talk to the police?"
Joan looked positively disheveled. Her hair was a mess, there was a steady stream of blood trickling down from the side of her head. Her left pant leg was soaking with blood from a stab wound in her thigh. Violet had obviously fought back, it might have been why she was still alive right now.
Violet made eye contact with Clem. She had an array of cuts and bruises across her face.
The brunette gripped the pistol tighter, glaring at Joan.
"I didn't talk to the police!" Clem shouted.
"Liar! The St. Johns saw you go into the police station, they told me."
"They lied to you, I didn't talk to the police!"
Joan scoffed, adjusting her grip on Violet. The blonde raised her chin to avoid being scraped by the knife.
"The St. Johns were some of my best operators, why exactly would they lie to me?"
"They had it out for me. I got into a fight with them because they tried to kill hostages."
It was the truth, or as far as Clem could see, the only truth that made sense. The St. Johns lied to Joan in order to have an excuse to kill her.
"Do you have any idea how childish you sound? You were gone from the Frontier for years, you wanted nothing to do with my invitation to come back. It all makes sense, but it's still a shock that you of all people would turn on us."
Joan was having none of it, being willingly blind to the truth, and Clem had no idea how to de-escalate the situation.
"What do you want from me? Whatever it is, I'll do it. Just let Violet go." She spoke calmly and slowly, still unable to hide the shakiness in her voice.
"Oh! Well that is a tempting proposition." Joan exclaimed dramatically, "what do I want from you?"
Joan let the question hang. She was savouring every second of the interaction, dragging it out as long as possible to torment Clementine.
"I want to see you suffer for trying to sink my operation. And the easiest way to do that, is by killing this young lady here." She smirked.
"What the fuck is wrong with you? Let me go you crazy bitch!" Violet shouted, struggling against her captor's grip.
Joan pushed the blade of the knife into Violet's neck, ever so slightly. Feeling the cold sting of the blade on her skin, Violet tensed up and stopped talking.
Clementine closed one eye and aimed the gun at Joan, who noticed and got lower behind Violet.
"Come on, Clementine. Even you aren't that good a shot. What if you hit her? Or if you hit me, but I don't die right away? I guarantee you I can cut halfway through her neck before I die."
She was right. The only part of Joan that was exposed was the top of her head, but it was hidden behind Violet's, giving her a very narrow margin of error if she did shoot.
Joan's legs were also exposed, but there was no point shooting her there. She would still have the wherewithal to murder Violet.
Clem had to double take, she noticed the wound on Joan's leg again. Violet's hand could reach it easily and do some damage. It would momentarily throw Joan off her rhythm, leaving Violet a window to escape.
Clementine made eye contact with Violet. When she was sure the blonde was following her eye movements, she looked at Joan's bleeding leg and back to Violet.
Violet glanced down and gave a single, subdued nod.

Clementine had always heard the stories people told about time slowing down in moments of fear and panic. Having had multiple such experiences that night, she definitively knew that whoever said that was completely and utterly full of shit.
Everything happened in an instant. Violet jabbed her thumb into the wound and Joan let out a scream, her voice cracking slightly.
The grip on Violet's shoulder released and the blonde slipped out from behind the blade of the knife.
Joan withdrew her arm, preparing to lash out with the knife. Her face was contorted into a snarl, like a wild animal. It was a far cry from the kindly grandmother persona she kept up around everyone.
Violet still wasn't far enough away yet, Joan would be able to stab her. Clementine snapped her aim to the right, her sights hovering over Joan.
A single shot rang out, the blast exacerbated by the confines of the lounge.
The bullet hit Joan in the centre of the face, passing through and sending a spray of blood onto the wall behind her. Her entire body flinched for a millisecond before her muscles relaxed and she dropped to the ground, limp as a ragdoll.
Clem dropped the gun on the ground and ran to Violet, wrapping her arms around her. Violet did the same, grabbing handfuls of the back of Clem's shirt.
The sound of her breathing next to Clem's ear was uneven, panicked. Understandable given the circumstances.
"It's okay... it's okay..." Clem repeated, whispering to her girlfriend.
"Fuck... oh fuck. Shes dead isn't she?"
Clem nodded slowly.
"Jesus, her brains are on the wall... I think I'm gonna be sick." Violet groaned.
"Just... don't look." Clem said weakly, heeding her own advice.
It felt like she should have been relieved that Violet was safe and Joan wasn't able to hurt anyone anymore. But no such feeling came, instead she felt revulsion for her actions. She had killed three people tonight, she had proven Joan right.
Their conversation from a few weeks ago echoed back at her in her mind.

'You can pretend all you want, play the role of the caring mother, the loving partner, but we both know that's not who you really are'

Joan was right, she was a killer, just like the Frontier had taught her.
Joan was a terrible person, a narcissist, a manipulator and apparently not above attempted murder. But she deserved prison, not death.
"Are you okay?" Violet asked slowly.
"I'm fine." Clem lied. "Are you?"
"She got me with that knife a couple of times, I think they were all just small cuts though."
Clementine examined Violet, checking her for injuries. She noticed the large patch of blood soaking through her shirt sleeve on her upper arm. The fabric had a slash in it and the skin underneath had been punctured with the knife. Clem couldn't tell how deep the wound was, there was too much blood.
"Shit, you need a hospital."
"I'm fine Clem, I can't even feel anything."
"That's the adrenaline, you're bleeding a lot."
Both of them stopped talking when the wailing of emergency sirens became audible in the distance. The noise was steadily getting closer and blue and red flashes of light were visible down the road.

Somebody must have called the police.

Clementine had no idea how this would go. It definitely didn't look good, two dead bodies at her house and another here.
She embraced Violet, whatever happened next, she wanted to be close to her before it did.