Page 44 of Deadfall

“Jeez, Harry, you’re lucky my aim is so bad today,” I teased.

Harry managed to get a few more feet before he fell onto his side and didn’t get up. He shook and grasped his stomach wound with a moan. Tears ran down his face and snot dripped from his nose. He was a mess. I nudged him with my foot and he cowered.

“No, please, please don’t kill me,” Harry begged.

“I thought you didn’t know what that word meant.”

“Wh–what word?”

“No.”

Harry paled. Before he could say another word, I straddled him and dug my fingers into the wound on his stomach. He flailed and slapped at my arms.

“No, nooo—” Harry sobbed.

“Again, that word,” I shook my head. “It just sounds so strange when you say it.”

I patted the side of his face roughly with my gloved hand covered in his own blood.

“If you can tell me what it means, maybe I’ll leave you alone.”

“It–it means–means–it means—to stop—”

“Really?” I frowned at him thoughtfully. “Are you sure?”

I scooted down and perched on his thighs. “Cause, when I was saying it, that’s not what you did.”

“I’m sorry–I-I’m s-sorry—”

I sighed with false dramatics. “I think that’s your impending doom talking, Harry.”

I pulled a handgun from my holster and pressed it to his groin. “I mean, don’t you think you should have led with that?”

“Yes, yes, yes—please!”

“Glad you agree.”

I pulled the trigger.

The scream hit my face, and split my eardrums at the volume of agony he displayed. I was so close I could see every flicker of pain in his eyes. I was as fascinated as I was intoxicated by the power I wielded. I needed to watch his life bleed away by my hand, so I shoved the gun back into my holster and replaced it with a knife. I pressed the blade to Harry’s neck.

My breath quickened, but not with fear—this time it was anticipation. The look on my face must have changed, because Harry went still. The anger was gone, the pleading was gone—something in my eyes showed him there really was no way out.

“Goodbye, Harry.”

He swallowed against the blade and stayed silent. I slowly dug into his skin and it gave way to the pressure. I put more force into it and hit his artery. The blood that poured from him was just like every other animal I’d ever killed, lending some familiarity to the act. I watched death claim him and my anger was pushed out by reverence and relief. Such a horrible human being, and he would never hurt anyone ever again.

I’d done that. The thought brought nothing but satisfaction. I reached out and touched the blood that pooled around him. In the end, we were no different than animals. We all bled the same—we could all die the same too.

23

EMERSYN

Age 18

I stalked down the path back toward home and—Pete.

Fuck. Is it wrong to say I’d forgotten about him?