1972

Chapter Fourteen

Suffocating Tom moves wildly gasping for air as his elbow connects with my side. I shout out in pain but continue to hold on until he grows weak. Jack scurries for the pistol and there was no way in getting to it on time. Two bullets fire and out of panic I accidentally let Tom go. Gasping out as he stumbles to his feet, my foot kicks the back of his knees and he slams to the ground.

When I try sprinting after him Jack grabs my hair and hurls me into the kitchen. I cry out in pain stomach running into the counter. Grabbing for the knife my mind burns with rage. I'm drenched in sweat but my hands cling on to the handle like a baby does to a pacifier. Jack gets cocky and his fist connects with my nose. Blood falls on to my already stained shirt, fresh and sticky.

Going for my throat Jack's hands don't look like his own. Instead I think about Skitter and his hooks for fingers. I also think about my head being slammed into the ground repeatedly, being forced to please Jack, and most of all that damn pistol that we were all forced to be held at the front of. This time I was ruthless, I had no mercy, and every ounce of my being lacked any empathy. I stab Jack straight in the chest and saw him stagger back in shock. Adrenaline fueled his body and he went for me again.

Pulling another knife out of a holder I stabbed him beneath the first puncture. Tripping off of nothing he hits the ground. When he tries to get up I get on top of him ripping the first knife out and stabbing him again. The handle didn't get stuck because I yanked it back and inserted the blade, yet again. Soon he stops moving and even though he looks dead, Jack had never looked anymore alive.

"What you do, you bitch!" A woman snarls looking at Jack. "You killed my boyfriend! "

For no reason at all I start laughing. The tears welled up in her eyes and as I stood up to walk away she comes for me. My back hits the pantry and her cool palm slaps across my faces. It felt like a fish struggling out of water, but it also stung to. Pushing her away my hand reaches for a blue roller she has latch to her head and she wails out in pain. I hated her ratty ass hair in fact I even hated her.

The sound of her heels dragging against the floor is lethal and her feet were heavy on the stomping. Throwing her face down into the granite countertop blood splatter on the floor, and she stops moving. The thinly brown shirt she had been wearing lifted and a tattoo was scrawled on her lower back. In rounded cursive letters the words wrote: Jack Coswell. My skin for some reason began to crawl.

The cabin fell silent beside my heavy breathing. The door was open and there was a mess trailed outside. I knew Tom was here, I saw him run upstairs after someone. Stepping over the roller cunt, I grab a pan off the stove;the weight was due able since all the knifes were stuck inside Jack, at least all the important ones. Quietly I tread upstairs and peek around the corner keeping my face at a safe enough distance. The hallway was a panicked type of silents and the floor boards squeaked.

The coat closet opens and a rough hand clasps around my mouth drawing me in with a firm hold around my waist. The double doors close and a tired voice whispers in my ear.

"Please don't scream." It was Ivor who spoke as he removed his palm from my lips.

I see Malinda in the closet as well. The bag of jewelry was clutched to her chest and she laid perfectly still. If Malinda hadn't had blinked I would have thought she was dead. I place the pan down quietly and faced Ivor seeing the blood fall from his forehead and get to his eye. Even though this was wrong timing I still felt ashamed to look at him.

"It only grazed my head." He states wiping the blood off before it gets in his eye.

"Yeah and if we don't get out of here none of that will matter." Malinda hisses. "I really need a shower and would like to go home."

"Why are we even in here?" I question and Malinda answers.

"We need a break." She says fanning nonexistent sweat. "Better be lucky I even let you two in here."

I ignore her last comment and try to get some space, Ivor pulls me back into his chest and whispers into my ear low and easy.

"Eventually there going to check the closest, the farther we stay from the middle the better." Wiping the blood from his face he then adds,"There going to even push the coats back and try to scare us, but keep calm and stay out of sight."

I nod feeling the way his chest inhales deeply and exhales steadily. Heavy foots steps walk across the floor boards and I hold my breath. I didn't know rather or not we should bring up Tom but I know eventually someone had to.

"These people are like a bunch of fucking animals." Malinda shakes her head side- to- side . " Majority ran outside and started hiding in the bushes."

Even if we tried to go outside there were still to many of them. I'd imagined trying to run to the car and at ever turn someone would jump out as if it were Halloween. One of us wouldn't make it and if we did we wouldn't go far. The car was probably messed up by now anyways: glass would be scatter everywhere, engine ripped out, and wheels busted. Maybe the car wasn't even there anymore, Tom would have made a clean get away and we had his dogs to deal with.

"I think Tom is lying." Ivor says further explaining his conspiracy theory. "Tom said his car was the only one they didn't mess with probably to draw us this way because he told them we'd try to make a run for it."

"It doesn't matter," Malinda's voice wavers. "If he was lying then he won't be lying now."

Sniffs come and she starts to cry out of what sounded like anger. The bag of jewels drawls closer to her chest and her face hangs low. Malinda's hair turns stringy and sweat makes it look extremely knotted. I think about the women with the rollers bleeding on the kitchen floor and how her hair might look finished. Only it wouldn't matter and it doesn't, especially now. All we had to do was wait them out that's the only plan that involves us seeing each alive, for whatever amount of time we had left.