Las Vegas, 2:00 AM

Heather's tears had finally stopped falling, but she still hadn't moved from the spot where she knelt. She was only vaguely aware that Katie's body had gone cold in her arms, her senses still too numb to feel anything. Never in her life had she felt like this, like she was completely and utterly alone, and the thought terrified her. She had always had someone with her, even if they had usually been forced to be her companion, but now there was no one. The golf course was silent as the grave and Heather was innately aware of just how alone she was.

"How could I have been so stupid?" she muttered, finally glancing down at Katie's motionless corpse.

It was a question she'd never asked herself before, one she wasn't even sure why she was asking now. And yet it seemed an appropriate thing to ask, given the circumstances. All she had wanted was to keep the party going, but all she had gotten was pain and fear and horrors beyond her imagination. If she had only listened to Gwen and Dawn when she'd had the chance, maybe none of this would have happened. If she'd only listened when she'd had the chance maybe Anne Maria, Sadie, and Katie would still be alive, not to mention Dakota, Lindsay, and Beth, whom Heather had lost track of during the chaos at the club. She hoped they were okay, that they'd somehow found a way out, but she was beginning to doubt they had or ever would.

The rustling of leaves to her right snapped Heather out of her thoughts. Glancing around, she felt her body tense, preparing run or fight, whichever seemed more likely to yield positive results.

"Who's there?" she called, fear coloring her tone. "Show yourself!"

Only silence greeted her and for a moment she thought she was going crazy. And then a feral cat emerged from the bushes, its luminous eyes reflecting the light of the moon. Heather's breath caught in her throat, and she felt her muscles relax, a strange calm flooding her system as the cat cautiously approached.

Heather watched the cat with a strange curiosity, wondering absurdly where it had come from. It was obviously feral, but had it always been so? Heather had no way of knowing and honestly didn't care. And yet, there was something about this cat that was endearing, almost as if the cat was somehow soothing away all of Heather's fears.

The cat was watching Heather as well, weary, but not fearful. Their eyes met for a fleeting second, Heather almost sensing something human in the cat's gaze and then the cat moved to Katie's corpse, which now lay on the soft grass, still and cold. With one last glance at Heather, the cat leaped onto Katie's chest and began lapping at the blood that still oozed from the fatal wound in her abdomen.

"Hey, don't do that!" Heather snapped, glaring at the cat. "She was my friend."

It felt strange to call Katie her friend, but it must have been true. Why else would she have cried so hard when Katie died? Heather wasn't the most sympathetic of people, so Katie being her friend was the only explanation that made any sense for why she had cried at all. The cat didn't seem to care however, as it continued lapping Katie's blood as though Heather wasn't there.

"I said, STOP THAT!" Heather screamed, kicking out at the cat in a sudden burst of fury. The cat hissed and leaped away, casting one last furious gaze at Heather before slinking away into the bushes once again.

Heather shook her head, disgusted by the cat's lack of respect, before remembering that it was just an animal. It didn't know any better. Katie was dead and the cat had seen her as an easy meal, nothing more. Heather would have done the same if she was starving and had stumbled upon the carcass of a cow on the side of the road. Still, it was hard for her to accept that anything could just ignore that fact that Katie had been a beautiful, funny, fun loving person with such cold detachment.

She glanced at Katie again, a sudden feeling of sorrow grasping her heart with icy fingers. "I'm sorry Katie." she whispered, reaching to close Katie's eyes. "I'm sorry I wasn't able to do more to keep you alive. I'm sorry I didn't care enough about you or anyone else. I swear, from this moment forward I will try harder to be a better person."

And with that declaration, she rose to her feet, determined to find the others and find a way out of the city before anyone else died.

However, she soon found herself lost, with no way of knowing where she was or where she was going. Damn it, she thought. How would Gwen and Courtney handle this situation? What would be their exit strategy? Heather had no real idea how either Gwen or Courtney would handle this situation, but there had to be a way. There was always a way, she just had to find it before it was too late. But before Heather could even begin to try and figure things out, a sharp stabbing pain shot through her right thigh. Look down, she saw, to her horror, a pair of arrows stuck through her flesh. In shock, she collapsed, just as a shadowy figure moved in from her right.

Heather screamed then, fear flooding her system, and then darkness took her in a sudden wave of black.


Las Vegas, 2:40 AM

The mood in the tiny group of three was somber and depressed. All sense of happiness and hope had vanished with Zoey's demise and now the three who remained were just waiting for their turns to come up. Bridgette still had hope, but it was not enough to buoy the spirits of LeShawna and Jo. She knew Jo blamed herself for Zoey's death and LeShawna had wanted to do more for her, but neither was worth dwelling on. All that mattered now was staying alive, so that Zoey's death hadn't been in vain.

"Alright, look." Bridgette said, speaking for the first time since they'd left the alleyway where Zoey had been decapitated. "I know this is hard to accept and I know you both wanted to do things differently, but we can't let this drag us down."

"How the fuck can you say that?" Jo asked, her tone disgusted. "I triggered the trap, Bridgette. I'm responsible for Zoey's death and because of that, I don't deserve to live. So just let this psycho find me and end this."

"No." Bridgette said. "I know you triggered the trap, but you didn't set it. That doesn't make you responsible for Zoey's death. And LeShawna, I know you wanted to do more for her, but we couldn't stay in that alleyway. We were just sitting ducks there."

"And we aren't here?" LeShawna asked, her tone incredulous. "We're sitting ducks no matter where we go in this fucking city."

"But that doesn't mean we should give up, does it?" Bridgette said. "We can still escape. We can still survive. All we need is a sound strategy."

"And how do find a sound strategy, when we're ruled by fear?" Jo asked.

"We work together." Bridgette answered, her tone determined. "We work together and we find a way. Don't we owe it to Zoey to at least try?"

"Well, when you put it that way, I suppose you have a point." LeShawna said. "But I still don't see how we're going to get out of here alive."

"Neither do I." Jo put in, her tone one of disbelief.

"We'll find a way." Bridgette said, her tone positive despite the circumstances. "I know we will. We always do."

Bridgette was honestly convinced that she was right, but she had to admit that Jo and LeShawna did have a point. Getting out alive wasn't going to be easy, no matter how much they worked together. The events that had already happened had proven that. But there was still a chance, Bridgette was sure of it. All they had to do now was figure out how to exploit that chance before time ran out on them.

As Bridgette thought, she scanned the street for anything that could help them. Nothing struck her as immediately helpful, however, and for a moment she questioned her resolve. But she quickly regained her composure, not wanting Jo and LeShawna to see her falter. And then she saw something that could very well save them all. There, only a couple of blocks away, sat a car with its driver's side door hanging wide open.

At first Bridgette couldn't believe what she was seeing. Who left their car door open in the middle of down town Las Vegas? But the more she thought about it, the more she decided it didn't matter. This was their way out, their one and only exit strategy, and Bridgette wasn't about to let it slip away. And without another thought, she started running towards the car, Jo and LeShawna catching on a moment later.

"Bridgette, wait, what if it's a trap?" LeShawna shouted, her voice shrill with fear.

Bridgette didn't seem to hear her however and LeShawna had no choice but to follow, aware that Jo was right beside her as they chased down their suddenly crazed leader. But, as they reached the car, they realized that nothing seemed to be amiss, other than the fact that the door was hanging open for no apparent reason.

And then Jo saw it, sticking out like a sore thumb, a little red dot glowing on Bridgette's chest, just above her heart.

"NO!" Jo screamed, diving in front of Bridgette just as the crack of the gun echoed through the empty streets.


Las Vegas, 3:10 AM

The hospital was huge, its gleaming exterior and polished interior suggesting that it was either newly built or newly remodeled. Gwen couldn't help being impressed, though she didn't really care how new the hospital was, as long as its staff helped her friends. She and the others had been there for a little over an hour and in that time it had become apparent just how badly they had all been injured in the explosion.

To Gwen's surprise, no one had asked them yet what had left them in such bad shape, but she was certain the questions would begin at any moment. A cursory examination by the emergency room staff had confirmed what Gwen had suspected when she woke up amongst the rubble. She was indeed concussed and it would be several days at least before she started to show improvement. Her head was now wrapped in bandaging, as were her multiple other wounds, and she was sitting in silence in the waiting room just outside the trauma center. Courtney was with her, her wounds having been tended to as well and they were waiting for word on the condition of Dawn and Izzy.

"What do you think will happen to us?" Courtney asked then, speaking for the first time since they'd arrived at the hospital.

"I don't know Court." Gwen answered. "I don't have any answers. I don't know why no one has asked us what happened, even."

At that moment, as though Gwen's response had somehow been broadcast through the entire hospital, one of the nurses who had treated them entered with two doctors who looked like they were in charge of the place. The nurse smiled at them, her smile warm and kind, and then she spoke, her tone calm and soothing.

"We need to ask you some questions." the nurse said. "There is nothing to be afraid of, we simply want to know what happened to you and your two friends."

"Ask away." Gwen said, her tone sullen. "We have nothing to hide."

The nurse nodded. "First question, what are your names?" she asked.

"Gwen Carver." Gwen answered automatically. "This is Courtney Santos and our friends are Dawn Strazinski and Izzy Sharpe."

"And what are you doing in Las Vegas?" the shorter of the two doctors, a stern looking woman in her forties, asked.

"We were here for a party, ma'am." Courtney answered, with a sidelong glance at Gwen.

"A party?" the taller doctor, a kindly looking man in his early fifties, asked. "A party at a hotel where a murder occurred earlier tonight, perhaps?"

"How did you know about that?" Gwen asked, suddenly suspicious.

"Everyone knows about it." the nurse answered. "Very little happens in this city without someone finding out about it eventually."

"Then did you know that murder was just the beginning?" Gwen asked. "That the reason we came in here tonight, looking like this is because we're being hunted by a psycho killer who plans to murder us all unless we can escape the city?"

"I...I don't...what exactly are you saying?" the nurse asked, fear coloring her tone.

"We are being chased by a psycho killer." Courtney repeated, more calmly than Gwen. "The murder at that hotel was of one of our friends and we have been running, trying to escape the city, ever since. We were in an alleyway when a bomb went off. Three of friends were killed. That's why we're in the shape we're in."

"If what you say is true, than we need to get you out of this city." the male doctor said, his tone somewhere between worried and fearful.

"Why do you think we came here?" Gwen asked. "To get help. And you've kept us waiting for over an hour while we were left to wonder what would happen next."

"Well, we had to make sure you and your friends were taken care of." the female doctor said. "And we wanted to be sure you weren't involved in something...well, bad."

"Well, we are." Gwen said. "We're trapped in this fucking city with a killer after us. It doesn't get much worse than that."

Sensing that Gwen was on the verge of completely losing her shit, Courtney stepped in to prevent things from getting out of hand. "How are our friends?" she asked, her gaze passing between the three medical professionals gathered before her.

"The blond girl is out of surgery." the nurse answered. "Her leg was crushed and it will be awhile before she walks again, but she'll live. As for the redhead, I don't know. She was in pretty bad shape when you got here and I haven't heard anything about how her surgery is going."

"She will make it." a familiar voice said then, drawing Gwen and Courtney's attention.

Dawn was being wheeled towards them, her right leg encased in a heavy cast. She was smiling, though there was something about her smile that told Gwen everything wasn't okay.

"Dawn, how are you?" Courtney asked, rushing to Dawn's side.

"I'm fine." Dawn answered. "I'll live." She smiled again, but Gwen could tell there was still something bothering her.

"Dawn, what aren't you telling us?" the goth asked, her gaze passing between Dawn and Courtney in rapid succession.

"It's Izzy." Dawn answered, not meeting Gwen's gaze.

"What about her?" Courtney asked. "You said she'd make it, so what's wrong?"

"I...I can't feel her anymore." Dawn answered, her voice tense.

"But...she can't be, can she?" Courtney asked, catching on to Dawn's meaning.

"If she was dead, I'm sure the doctors would have told us." Gwen said, though she didn't sound convinced. She glanced at the three medical professionals they were talking with, though none of them seemed to be paying attention to what she, Courtney, and Dawn were discussing.

"Something isn't right here." Gwen said then, realization suddenly hitting her. "There's too many answers being kept from us."

Courtney and Dawn glanced at her, both of them seeming to sense it as well, and then a blaring alarm went off, sending the doctors scrambling.

Struck with a sudden burst on inspiration, Gwen moved to follow them, Courtney right on her heels. They ran down a long corridor, the doctors just ahead of them, and then the horror that Gwen had been expecting came into view. There, in the trauma center, stood a tall figure dressed in black, his hand buried in Izzy's open chest cavity.

Izzy was awake, Gwen saw, her eyes full of tears, one hand reaching feebly towards the door. Gwen grabbed for the knob, only to find that the door was locked, and panic consumed her, driving all other thoughts from her mind.

"NO!" she shouted, pounding on the door. "PLEASE GOD, NO!"

The dark figure turned and looked at her then, a sadistic grin twisting his features, and then his had yanked free of Izzy's chest, bringing her still beating heart with it. Izzy jerked on the operating table, her brain firing one final synapse and then she was gone. The killer grinned again before dropping Izzy's heart and advancing towards the door.

Overcome with fear, Gwen turned and ran, screaming, as Courtney followed, pushing Dawn as fast as she could.

A/N: Well, there's chapter 7. Sorry it took so long. I've been busy lately with a new job, so I've been a bit distracted. Anyway, Izzy is now dead and the fates of the others are up in the air. We're not far off from the bloody climax, so strap yourselves in, 'cause it's gonna be one hell of a ride! Cheers, KT.