I’d love to do that right now.Turn back, or at the very least slow our steps, but there’s no point delaying the inevitable, and when we get to the end of the hall, we see it.Or rather,them.
He’s killed two more people.The matching puncture wounds on their throats makes that startling clear.If cut in the right way, a carotid artery can bleed out in two minutes.I googled it once out of curiosity, after a particularly gore-filled movie marathon.I just never thought I’d see it in person.
Drew and the woman next to him never stood a chance.I know it’s Drew from the bold block letters on his name tag, and while the woman’s long red hair is familiar from cocktail hour, I can’t remember her name.I only know that she was the one with the Julia Roberts smile and that Drew liked pineapple on his pizza.Really superficial information about two people who are lying dead in front of us.They look like the twins fromThe Shiningfrom the way they’ve droppedonto the carpet.Their blood spreads around them like one of those heart-shaped beds nobody thinks is romantic.
“What the h—”
Laurie’s voice comes out in a long gust.She shakes her head in disgust, her eyes fixed on the spreading stain, and that’s when I notice them.Scattered around the two bodies, sinking into the pool of blood.Red rose petals.
What the hell?
The petals aren’t just confined to the bodies, either.No.They continue down the hall into the darkness, scattered delicately across the carpet.Atrailof rose petals.
What in theAmerican Beautymadness is going on?
Wes seems to have the same question on his mind.He starts to edge around the macabre mix of crimson petals and the slightly darker shade of the puddle that is swallowing them as it spreads, intending to follow the trail.
He keeps a firm hold on the chair leg, his other palm extended back, directed toward us, as he says, “Stay here.”
Yeah, that’s not going to happen.
“No, Wes—”
“I’m just going to check around the corner.I’ll be rig—”
“Don’t fucking say it,” I hiss back before he can finish, willing away the sharp clench around my heart at the dangerous words that were about to come out of his mouth.He almost broke rule eight.
“Don’t youdaresay ‘I’ll be right back,’?” I grit out, because it’s a promise he can’t keep.I amsurroundedby people who need to consider watching films for their educational value and not just entertainment.
“There’s no chance I’m going down there,” Billie says.
“I don’t want to, either.”Jennifer grips her shoulders tighter, shaking her head jerkily as she looks everywhere but at the bodies on the ground.While Jennifer is avoiding the obstacle in our path,Campbell can’t tear his eyes away from them with that same distant, unblinking look on his face.I highly doubt he’ll be making any moves to get a closer look, either.
“Then I’ll go with you.”It’s out of my mouth before I’ve actually made my mind up, but there are too many scenes playing through my head of men like Wes walking down a corridor and never coming back that I don’t regret it.
He glances back down the rose-covered corridor, his jaw tightening before he takes a step back to me, his hand gripping my shoulder, heating my skin, and he’s right.He is taller than me.
“Jamie, stay he—”
“No.Splitting off is just as bad as splitting up.It’s one of the rules.”
I turn to Laurie, offer my Kahlúa bottle, and hold my other hand out for her travel-sized one.It’s loose in her grip and easy for me to swipe, exchanging it for the larger, heavier bottle.Jennifer and Billie don’t have weapons, and I’ll feel better leaving them, leaving Laurie, if they have something big and sharp to protect themselves with.I already know these makeshift weapons won’t hold up against the arsenal I suspect this guy has, but it’s better than nothing.
“Rules?What the fuck is she talking about?”Billie mutters, and I ignore her.
“Jamie—” Laurie says, and I can’t ignore her as easily.“Don’t go.”
Her voice trembles on the last word.Even in the dim light I can see the panic in her face.I know how contradictory my words are.This is exactly what Ididn’twant to do.Split up.Leave her.But weneedto find a way out, and if Wes goes down that hall and doesn’t come back, we are majorly fucked.
“Hecan’tgo alone,” I reason, and she goes to follow me.
“Then I’ll come, too.”
“No!”
She flinches at the sound, and again I need to tell my heart to keepbeating.I don’t know how to do anything by halves.I’m not sure I’m capable of it, so when Laurie and I became friends I knew I was all in.I can deal with the three-hour documentaries that are lacking in any discernible conflict.I can deal with the aversion to hugs.I can even deal with the lumberjack obsession because—despite our differences, or maybe because of them—she makes me feel seen and valued and understood in her no-nonsense way.It’s not like I didn’t have friends before we met; it’s not like I haven’t made others since; but she’s just a really fucking good one.The best, and if something happens to her… well, I don’t even know.All I know is I will do everything to make sure nothing does.If thereissomeone waiting down there, I won’t drag her into their path.And that’s why I make myself sound calm and assured when I say, “I—weneed you to watch our backs.The four of you just…”
I consider the scene setup, try to recall something that’s similar and how we can avoid playing out a bloody moment that would rival the one we’re all currently trying not to step in.
