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Harriet woke up to screaming.
It was obvious who the piercing sound belonged to. There was only one other person in the house, and that was Sidney.
Meaning Ghostface was here.
With her heart racing and blood pumping, Harriet shoved the covers off of her and ran downstairs, towards where the screaming was coming from. But as soon as she made it to the kitchen, Sidney was hunched over in what seemed to be pain, the back screen door wide open but no sight of the killer anywhere.
"Fuck," Harriet cursed, tied between wanting to run out and hunt down Ghostface and staying back to take care of Sidney. She went with the latter and rushed to the woman's side, her eyes fastening on the color of crimson seeping through Sidney's fingers.
Ghostface had gotten her. A single slash across the stomach. Harriet could tell it wasn't deep enough to cause any major damage, but it would still leave a scar, another to add to Sidney's growing collection.
"We need to get you to a hospital," she tried, throwing an arm around her to hold her upright, but Sidney only shook her off.
"No, I'm fine. Just...need to sit down." She wobbled to the nearest chair, a stool at the kitchen counter, and clutched her stomach as she inhaled deep breaths.
Harriet's brows knotted worriedly. "Sid...you should really go to the hospital. Someone just stabbed you."
Sidney tried to smile through a wince. "Wouldn't be the first time."
It seemed that there would be no getting through to her, so Harriet stopped trying. Instead she made herself useful by preparing a warm washcloth and some alcohol to tend to the wound. The blood had soaked through Sidney's t-shirt entirely, and there was nothing to do but throw it away.
Harriet heard Sidney hiss through her teeth as she cleaned the wound, careful not to press down or make it any more uncomfortable for her. She was no doctor by any means, but her mother had been a nurse, so she'd picked up a few things.
After cleaning the wound, Harriet's gaze flitted up to Sidney. "Do you have any bandages? I need to wrap this."
Sidney pointed to the bathroom down the hall. "In the medicine cabinet."
As Harriet went to retrieve bandages, she pulled out her phone to contact Dewey. She was a professional, but Dewey certainly knew more about Ghostface's ways than she did, and she could always use an extra helping hand.
Even with the killer gone for now, an eerie feeling crawled up Harriet's spine. They could be right outside the house, waiting to make their next move. The urge to check around the place was strong, but Sidney needed her right now, so she delayed the searching until Dewey arrived.
And Dewey did arrive. Ten minutes later, with a guest.
Gale.
Harriet gritted her teeth. Why couldn't she ever get a break? She knew this town was small, but did Gale really have to pop up everywhere?
Despite it being the middle of the night, Gale was dressed to the max, still wearing makeup as if she'd been out and about. For a second Harriet wondered if the woman ever slept. Maybe she just lived off of coffee and terrorizing people.
"I hope you don't mind me bringing Gale," Dewey remarked sheepishly. "She was at the department with me when I got the call and she wanted to make sure Sid was okay."
As if sensing the bullshit, Sidney scoffed, still hunched over on the stool. "Sure."
Gale ignored Sidney's comment, glancing at Harriet out of the corner of her eye. Harriet could feel her burning gaze but didn't dare to return it. It was liking looking into the eyes of Medusa. If you looked, you turned into stone.
Most people would say that's dramatic. She thought it was a good analogy.
Gale cleared her throat. "Did either of you see the guy?"
"Yeah, but they were wearing a mask, you know, like fucking always," Sidney snapped, but she lacked her usual malice due to the pain she was fighting through.
The reporter rolled her eyes. "Great. We have nothing to go off of now."
Now Harriet jumped into the conversation, her tone bewildered. "What do you mean 'we'? You're not a cop. You don't work with Dewey and I. What you should do is back off. Maybe take a break from all your news-casting."
Gale's glare would unnerve anyone else, but Harriet was oh-so-used to it, so it didn't phase her in the slightest. "I report the news. I'm a reporter. It's my job to be in other peoples' business."
"No, you exploit people for fame and money," Harriet said, leveling her gaze. "You don't give a single shit about what happens to the people in this town, you just want to get it on camera so you can get your credit and pay-grade."
Gale's lips thinned. Her eyes were bottomless pits of darkened blue, but Harriet refused to get lost in them.
"Uh," Dewey cleared his throat, effectively gaining their attention. He was standing beside Sidney, looking as uncomfortable as ever. "I'm just gonna go search the house."
As he scurried off, Harriet said, "I'm going to go help him. Sidney, do you want to stay here?"
Sidney grimaced as she shifted on the stool. "Well, I'm definitely not getting any sleep tonight, so I guess I will."
"I'll keep an eye on her," Gale volunteered, earning glares in both directions.
"No," Harriet said with finality. "You're leaving."
"I don't believe I am," Gale argued, an irritating smile on her face. "What if Ghostface comes back?"
Harriet scoffed. "And what are you gonna do if they do decide to come back? Ask him to stay still and say cheese?"
Gale's smile faltered. "No. I'm going to kill that son of a bitch."
Her words dripped with sincerity. There was a look of determination in her eyes along with the fire sparking in them, and Harriet felt a shiver run up her spine.
This woman was dangerous.
Of course, she'd known that already. But this just confirmed it.
Strangely, she wasn't scared at all. She wanted Ghostface dead as much as the next person. She wanted a bullet in their head, a knife stuck in their throat.
And the thought of Gale being the one to end them was, for a lack of a better word, exciting.
She began to wonder if she was going insane. That was the only reasonable explanation for thinking such a thing.
"You're not staying here," Harriet repeated firmly. She scooped up the excess bandages to distract herself from Gale's stare, but it didn't matter because she could still feel the woman's eyes on her, watching her every move.
"I'm trying to help you," Gale argued, following her into the bathroom. Harriet shoved the bandages into the cabinet and whirled around, a look of aggravation sprawled across her face.
"We don't need your help. I don't need your help."
"I've handled a Ghostface before," Gale said, refusing to back down. "Sidney has too, but you haven't. You don't know what they're capable of."
"I've dealt with many killers just like this one. It's my job." She attempted to leave the bathroom, but Gale slid into her path.
The look on her face was unreadable. "Ghostface is different and you know it. They'll kill you."
"Why do you care?" Harriet stared up at the other woman with indignant eyes. "I'm sure you'd be happy to see me dead. You'd probably even celebrate. I've always been worthless in your eyes."
Gale's eyes flashed. For a second, she looked as if someone had just knocked the air out of her lungs with a hard punch to the gut.
But the look disappeared as quick as it came.
"I wouldn't be happy," she said finally, her voice quiet. "And you're not worthless, Harriet."
She turned and left the bathroom without another word.

YOU ARE READING
Burning Bridges ✷ Gale Weathers
FanfictionEnemies, Lovers. What's the difference, truly? Harriet Kane doesn't want to return to woodsboro, her unfortunate hometown, but being put on a case to solve the town murders leaves her no choice. The town does nothing but spark bad memories for her...