Red Leather (Book 2)

Chapter 22

Chapter 22

 

"Everybody, stay in formation!" Lacie's shouts could be heard from the bottom of the pyramid. Sweat made the back of my uniform cling to my skin, but I kept the smile on my face, relishing the burn of keeping such a tight position. The high split pyramid was always the most difficult.

Amongst the excitement of killings and shootings, I hadn't entirely forgotten that the outside world still functioned as normal. The Alistair City Eagles were being prepped and ready for the upcoming football semifinals. Lacie had us working our tiny little assess off – our afterschool practices had been extended to 7pm, and every tumble, split, lift and extension had to be executed to absolute perfection. My body was being worked to overdrive, but I hadn't minded compared to the rest of the girls, who looked just about ready to collapse.

Wouldn't be the first time that happened.

Suffice to say that we were pretty cut off from the rest of the world during those couple of days.

Both the routines themselves were difficult, but I knew all the steps by heart. It was only a matter of lifting my leg high enough, and extending my arms just a little bit more. We danced to a Katy Perry remix, keeping our pace upbeat and snappy. 30 seconds on the floor, a heel stretch on the sidelines, a tumble to the centre stage, double flip into an extended scorpion, a complicated variation of stunts overlapping one another, a twist into the liberty, an arabesque from two second bases, and finally, with one heart-stopping flip and twist, I get thrown into a double basket toss, while the rest of the flyers perfect the handstand pyramid.

Suffice to say that when the championships came, we would kick ass.

After another long, laborious practice, we drifted into the locker rooms and cleaned ourselves up, exceptionally sore but satisfied at the rate we were progressing. A lingering tinge of sadness still permeated the rest of the student body, but thankfully the funeral of Cora and Tammy had provided a sense of closure. I myself had stopped pretending to grief a while ago, especially now that the town had been hit with a fresh kill.

Nearly a week has past, and still the thought of it makes me see red.

Claudia, hidden behind the shower cubicle, was too busy scrubbing her body to notice my reaction to her next words. "Hey, apparently they've found a lead on the shooting."

A muscle inside my cheek jumped.

"Really?" Inna, the Russian-born spotter in our team, asked in a hushed voice. The rest of the girls listened in, but were too tired to contribute to the conversation.

"Well, all I know is what my mom's been telling me," she sighed, her voice rising over the sound of rushing water. "The woman who died had a journalist tailgate her, like, four hours before she was shot. So now all the journalists are being interviewed. Pretty ironic, if you ask me."

"Daddy's outside," I announced loudly, drowning out whatever response Inna had said. Faking a smile through the bitter taste in my mouth, I closed my locker door louder than necessary, watching as the other girls flinched in surprise. "See you tomorrow, girls!" Four long strides and I was out the door.

Striding to the school gates, I gripped the strap over my shoulder, hoping to mask the shaking of my hands. The rage, no matter how much furniture I broke or people I wounded, would never subside. It swirled round and round inside me, seducing the monster I had caged long ago.

But apparently the cage was too fickle. The monster – ever present and demanding – was awake.

Eli wasn't the problem – no. Eli had done a perfect job at rendering that woman dead. The problem was that the woman was not Chloe. The woman was a twenty three year-old bartender from Chicago, a woman boringly named Sarah Jones, who had decided on the spur of the moment to stay with her aunt whilst in New York, instead of wasting money on a hotel.