The Killing Kind 2 by Bryan Smith

Author:Bryan Smith [Smith, Bryan]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: horror
Publisher: Bitter Ale Press
Published: 2014-04-27T04:00:00+00:00

26.

The guy in the recliner was still only semi-conscious. He was groaning and trying hard to focus on Rob, but his fluttering eyelids only occasionally rose above half-mast. His head remained tilted to one side and drool was still dribbling from a corner of his mouth. He was looking right at the gun aimed at his face, but true comprehension was eluding him.

Rob glanced at the redheaded girl, now seated on the blood-spattered sofa. Her arms were still crossed over her breasts and she was shaking like an animal left out in the cold. Blood continued to seep from the deep gash Roxie’s knife had made in her cheek. “Hey. You. Ginger girl. What’s the deal with this guy? Your weed really that strong?”

The girl glanced at her tubby, drooling friend. She sniffled and wiped snot from her nose with the back of a hand. “He’s a pillhead. Probably took a lot of Vicodin or something. He stays like that for hours sometimes.”

Roxie was pacing the living room. She was a restless livewire of energy now. Rob remembered this from their previous time together. She would sometimes get this way in the moments just before some explosion of monumental violence. “A pillhead. Fucking great. He’s not gonna be much fucking fun.”

The redhead sniffled again. “Why are you doing this?”

Roxie abruptly stopped pacing. “Doing what? You mean this?”

She stepped on Anya’s abdomen, pressing her heel into one of the stab wounds in her belly. The girl was still alive, but she had been drifting toward unconsciousness. That changed instantaneously. Her eyes snapped open and she gasped at the pain. She writhed beneath the pressure of Roxie’s grinding heel. The writhing was probably making the pain even worse, but her body was a slave to instinct, desperately seeking an escape that wasn’t possible. Roxie laughed at her anguished moans and pressed down harder, biting her bottom lip as she savored the girl’s agony.

This exercise in torture was making Rob’s stomach knot up again. He still wasn’t jaded enough to get past his instinctive repulsion at such things. Sudden, decisive violence was different. It was terrible, but at least it was over in a matter of moments.

Roxie glanced at him, sneering again. “What’s the matter, baby? You look kind of green around the gills.”

Rob fought down his rising gorge and replied in a flat, emotionless tone. “I’m just thinking we shouldn’t prolong this more than necessary. We’ve been here a while already. We should finish this and get back to the bus.”

She stared at him for a long moment, not saying anything. Her expression was blank, but Rob thought he detected a hint of something troubling in her eyes. Something dangerous and terrible was brewing in that toxic brain of hers. The moment when he began to suspect just how awful that something would be was when she began to smile.

Roxie approached him and held out her empty hand. “Give me the gun.”

Rob stared at her open palm a moment, wariness settling deep inside his gut.

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