I was standing next to McKayla’s door, my keys finally in my pocket after finding them where they had slid under a chair. It was when I turned to go, that I could have sworn I heard a scream. I stood there, debating what I should do until I heard something crash.
Without giving myself time to think about what I was doing, I grabbed the key that she had hidden on her stoop and pushed through the door. It was dark inside, but I heard whimpering coming from the living room.
“Mickey? It’s Spence. Look, I know that you don’t want me here, but…”
“Go away!”
It was her voice, but something about it had the hairs on the back of my neck standing up. “Are you okay? I heard a scream…”
“Now is not a good time Spencer.”
Her voice was fairly steady, but while she was talking I heard the whimper again. It wasn’t her.
Creeping my way into the living room I tried to make sense of what I was seeing. It was definitely McKayla standing there, but she had something large in her hands and she was holding whatever it was over her head like she was about to bring it down hard on whatever it was that was lying on the ground.
I strained my eyes. No. Not whatever… whoever. There was a body lying there. In the split second it took me to open my mouth to scream at her to stop, lightening flashed through the room, causing her reflection to appear in the mirror hanging above her sofa.
“Jessica?”
It was all the body had needed, that momentary distraction for it to lash out at Mikey’s legs. Her body fell to the ground in a heap, but the face, Jessica’s face, remained staring at me through the mirror. When the lightening flashed again… she was gone.
“Thank God… she was going to kill me. You saw her.”
I recognized the voice before I recognized the face. I had only met him once, but I knew who he was. “What happened? Why was she trying to hurt you?”
I lowered my hand to him, annoyed that it appeared to be shaking, and helped him up. He collapsed, panting on the sofa and pressed his hand to his chest. The lights flickered back to life and I was surprised to see that he was bleeding pretty badly.
“Are you okay?”
He took a deep breath and stood, walking toward the kitchen and opened a briefcase that was resting on the table. “Yeah, thanks to you. All things considering, I really hate that I have to do this.”
I frowned, confused. “Wha…?” But the question wasn’t finished before I got the answer I had been seeking. He shot me and I crumpled to the ground.