Writing on the Wall

I watch in shock as she steps back, leaving Vin sagging against me and pulling a long, bloody knife away with her. She’s stabbed him. I don’t know where and I don’t know if it’s fatal, but the knowledge shifts my gears. The shock wears off and the autopilot kicks on. When I look at her, I know she knows.

She’s made a terrible mistake.

I shove Vin to the side, letting him fall carelessly onto the frozen ground. Then I lunge at her. I don’t make contact, I only lunge. I’m testing her reflexes, seeing how she wields the knife. I need answers to a few questions right now and they’re all put to rest with that one movement. Her reaction tells me everything I need to know and the simple truth is this: Barbie doesn’t have what it takes.

When I lunge at her she jumps back quickly and slashes the knife in front of her. It’s a good move, it keeps me away from her. But a better move, one that a person accustomed to working with a weapon and letting it work for them would do, is to meet my lunge with her own and stab at me in close proximity. I can’t just take that knife from her, not if I want to keep my blood in my body, and if she’s quick and efficient enough she could kill me before I lay a hand on her.

Kind of like this. Watch.

I pull the trowel from my back pocket, holding it at waist level in my right hand. My strong hand. I miss my ASP and its long reach, but autopilot doesn’t care. All autopilot wants is to put down the threat and go to bed. So that’s what it does. It lunges forward again, backing Caroline up until she stumbles off the walkway and lands on the ground on her back. It watches as she slashes out wildly, hoping to force me back away from her. It waits patiently. Then it lunges again. It stomps on her arm holding the knife, pi

It slips out of the driver’s seat.

I shake as I watch her bleed into the ground.

Dead.

Dead at my hand.

Chapter Seventeen

As I feel the adrenaline leave me, I feel the cold sink in deeper. It sets root in my heart and freezes my blood until I can’t move, until my muscles atrophy. I’m paralyzed and eggshell fragile. I’m a statue. A porcelain figurine. A killer.

“Kitten.”

Vin’s weak voice calls to me from far off. I try to ignore it but he won’t shut up.

“Kitten.”

My eyes gain focus. I find myself staring at Caroline’s lifeless corpse. I’ve seen plenty of dead bodies in my day. A lot of them are actually ones I laid to their final rest. But they were all dead already, all on their way and lost in the confusing haze of being a Risen. I helped them find clarity. Finality.

This is different. This was a living, breathing, seething person until along came a spider who stabbed her in the neck and let her bleed out at her feet. This is ugly and hateful.

Is this me?

“Kitten!”

“What?!” I cry, turning to face him.

I’m actually surprised to find him still alive. I figured that despite the fact that Caroline was literally a backstabber, she was probably a finish the job kind of girl too. But there he lies, a pool of dark blood seeping out of his side. He’s breathing and cursing like any other day of the week.

“You okay?” I ask numbly.

He glares up at me. “Do I fucking look okay?!”

I fall to my knees beside him. “You’ve looked better.”

“What about you?” he wheezes, grasping his side and eyeing me. “Are you okay?”

“I fucking look okay?” I deadpan.

“Was it your first time?”

“Yeah.”

“It gets easier.”

I snort. “I doubt that.”

“Trust me, it does.”

“I don’t want it to.” I say weakly, my eyes stinging.

“It’s not really a choice.”

I move to glance over my shoulder. To look at Caroline. At my kill.

“Don’t.” Vin says firmly, gripping my hand with his blood smeared palm.

“What the hell happened?!” a voice cries from the doorway.

Vin and I both look over slowly to find Tim standing there in shock, looking from us to Caroline and back again.

“What?” is all he can muster.

“We ran into a little trouble with the plan.” Vin tells him with a grunt.

He keeps moving around. I assume he’s trying to ease the pain but it’s not going to happen. Not until he’s sewn together again. I grab his shirt at the front then yank hard. It rips down the center, tearing in two. I help him pull his arms out of it then ball it up and press it firmly against his wound.

“Vin needs a doctor.” I tell Tim. He’s staring at Caroline. “She doesn’t need anything. Not anymore.”

Tim looks at me for a long moment. His face is a mask and I wonder what he’s thinking. Can he see it on me that I did it? That I killed her? I feel like it’s marked on me somehow like a stink I’ll never be able to wash away.

“Here’s what happened.” he says quickly and quietly, moving to Caroline’s body. “Joss came out here for some fresh air. She saw Vin and Caroline… being intimate. She felt angry and jealous so she attacked Caroline with… what is this in her neck?”

“A trowel.” Vin and I say in unison monotone.

“Alright, Joss attacked her with a trowel. She killed Caroline and found the knife that she always kept on her for protection. Then she turned the knife on Vin, stabbed him, took Caroline’s keys to the fence and ran.”

“I’m leaving?” I ask, looking at him in surprise.

“Hell yes, you’re leaving.” He’s rooting around in Caroline’s pockets now, jostling her body back and forth. It flops lifelessly and I worry I’ll be sick. “Vin can’t go and you can’t stay here. You killed one of the leaders. And this is better than Vin escaping. That brings up questions of how and who helped and is there dissension in the ranks. This way it was a lover’s quarrel, something not uncommon in the Pods, though it usually ends in fist fights not…”

“Stabbings?” I ask.

“Exactly. Here.” Keys land beside my knees on the packed, frosty dirt. “Take those. Get out of here. Do what he was supposed to do.”

I shake my head, staring at the keys. At freedom. “The Hive doesn’t know me.” I protest weakly. “They’ll never listen to me. They’ll never even speak to me.”

“Take this.” Vin says. He pulls his ring off his finger and slips it on mine. On the ring finger of my left hand. He smirks through a grimace. “Don’t get excited, it’s just a loner.”

“Nothing would thrill me less.” I mutter, staring at the ring. It’s a dark metal full of dents, scratches and dark blue flecks. It’s beautiful.

“Yeah,” he grunts. “Act like I don’t know.”

“Will they recognize it?”

“Marlow will. He knows it was my old man’s. It’s the only thing that’s ever meant anything to me.”

I look in his eyes and feel like crying. He could die. I could die. We all might die no matter what I do but suddenly I feel so cold and bone tired I don’t even know which way is up anymore.

“They won’t listen to me, will they?” I whisper.

His lips form a grim line. He shakes his head sharply. “Probably not.”

I nod, looking at the ring and thinking it doesn’t matter. None of it matters. Not if we never try.

“Alright, I’ll go.” I say, standing and quaking with cold and nerves.

“Hey.” Vin says. He’s staring up at me and in this light I can’t read his eyes. “You’ll get it done. You’re a better man than I am.”

I chuckle. “No shit.”

Two minutes later I’m wearing Tim’s sweater, carrying the knife and trowel and I’m ru