It was finally time. After weeks of waiting, I would finally get the rush I've been craving. My fingers itched at my duvet.
"Patience, Max." he breathed softly. "Patience."
Right. Right.
Forcing myself to take a deep breath, my fingers uncurled. I made casual small talk with Fang for the next few minutes, waiting for some sort of signal. I got it in the form of my mother's high heels coming up the stairs.
She gave a tiny, timid knock on my bedroom door before sticking her head inside. As usual, everything about her was put together carefully to portray perfection, but anyone who cared could see right through the facade.
"Max." she said in her glass voice, "David is here, come say hello."
"I'll be down in a second." I replied. I had intended to sound dismissive, but it came out a lot more harsh. She flinched and disappeared behind the door.
"Who's David?" Fang asked, tilting his head inquisitively, making his bangs fall into his eyes.
"My dad's campaign manager, and an old family friend. You don't have to come down, it'll only take a minute."
He sat up, some slight tension in his shoulders. He still wasn't completely comfortable, and I didn't blame him. I flashed him an easy smile, trying to be reassuring, and then clambered off my bed and left the room.
"Hey, David." Jeb smiled as he spoke, firmly grasping the outstretched hand of his old friend. "Thanks for coming. Things have been a mess around here since Claudia passed."
"Such a tragedy." the older man tsked, sadly shaking his head. His hairline had long since last the battle against time, retreating to the back of his head. Most of what remained there retained its brown color, but his toothbrush mustache was riddled with grey. He was fairly thin, his gray suit hanging a little limp off of him.
"But still, a personal tragedy." He made his way over to the sideboard, kept in the living room just for him. "The press will stay out of it. I've made sure of that." he said, stamping out his cigarette in the ashtray. David poured himself a small glass of amber liquid from a crystal decanter and downed the whole thing in one swig. Turning, he settled himself comfortably in one of the plush arm chairs that adorned the room. He was undeniably at ease in the Batchelder home, perhaps even more so than in his own.
He reached into his jacket pocket, and Jeb winced when he produced a pack of cigarettes and some matches.
"I really wish you'd use a lighter like a normal person, David." he remarked, as he did every time. "Those things are a fire hazard."
"Jeb, I'm a gentleman at heart." David replied, pulling a cigarette from the carton and placing it between his lips. "You will never catch me with one of those trashy gas station bits of plastic."
"You can get metal lighters."
"Ah, but it's the principle of the thing."
David struck his match, and Jeb made a face. Every time they had this conversation, and every time it ended the same way.
David happily puffed away on his cigarette, filling the air with smoke. Anne and the children always complained about it, but Jeb didn't mind.
"Well, I have a few more papers to finish going over." Jeb said. "Do you mind waiting?"
"Take all the time you need."
Jeb nodded graciously and left, disappearing into his study.
A few minutes later, he heard doors closing upstairs, and three blonde heads appeared as they descended towards him. David smiled to himself. He always had enjoyed spending time with Jeb's children. James so smart, Max so sassy, and Zephyr so full of energy. Sometimes he wondered if he didn't love them more than their father did.
Ugh. I hate it when he smokes inside. Gives me a headache.
David smiled as my brothers and I approached him, making his customary cigarette stick up at an awkward angle.
"Max, James, Zephyr!" He exclaimed. "It's been awhile, hasn't it?"
"Hi David." I responded, making sure I sounded carefree and unbothered. On the inside, I was anything but. I could practically see the target painted on his forehead.
Iggy smiled at him, but it was tense and strained. He never had liked David much, even when we were younger.
But Gazzy was happy to see him, at least. He bounded forward, standing proudly before David and puffing out his chest.
"I've grown a whole inch since the last time I saw you!" he proclaimed.
"Wow, a whole inch?" David responded, looking amazed. That's an awful lot. Are you sure you really grew a whole inch?"
Gazzy nodded eagerly. "I triple checked!"
"Alright, Max. Are you ready for step one?" The voice whispered to me. I straightened up a little.
Yes.
"Take the matches."
My eyes fell to where David's matches lay, next to his cigarettes on the end table beside his chair.
Hm, looks like I get to play with fire.
David was still chatting away with Gazzy. Iggy leaned up against the wall, waiting for them to finish, obviously anxious to get away.
Casually, I moved behind David's chair. I let my fingers run along the sideboard, trying to appear bored and restless. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched Iggy.
When he glanced away for a second, I slide the matches off the table and shoved them into my back pocket. Nobody seemed to notice.
"Well done." he whispered. "Now, your fathers handyman is in the master bedroom. Go and take a screwdriver from his toolbox."
Ok… weird. But I didn't really have the time to be asking questions.
Alright, gotta get moving.
I looped back around into David's field of vision and gave him an easy going smile.
"It was nice to see you again." I said sweetly.
"Don't tell me you're ditching me already." he said, disappointed. "We've barely talked."
"Sorry David, I have a friend over." Iggy shot me a sharp look. "What? I do."
"Is it that weird guy again?"
Surprised by his animosity, I went into defense mode, arms crossed and shoulders hunched, my previous smile replaced by a scowl.
"There's nothing wrong with him." I replied hotly. Iggy scoffed.
"He hasn't even said anything to you." I said, smoldering. "What's your problem?"
He mimicked my posture and glared at me. "I don't have a problem."
I wanted to scoff back at him, but I really didn't have time to stand here and argue with my brother. So I just snorted in disbelief and walked away. To my relief, none of them came after me, seemingly held in place by the awkward silence I left in my wake.
I made my way back upstairs, trying to put Iggy's mood swing out of my mind. Pausing at the top of the stairs, I glanced around surreptitiously. When I was sure no one was watching, I turned left and ducked into my parents room.
As promised, Vince the handyman was there, perched halfway up a ladder in the center of the room, trying to change a light bulb on the chandelier. As expected, he was also drunk off his ass.
Vince was a short, squat little man with face like a toad's, who constantly smelled (and acted) like he lived in the bottom of a bottle. Normally Jeb demanded perfection from everyone, and I could never understand why he kept Vince around. But at the moment, it worked to my advantage.
His big orange toolbox sat at the bottom of his ladder. I would have to get over there, grab a screwdriver, and get out without him noticing me. I took a deep breath to calm the blood rushing through my ears.
It'll be fine. I told myself. Fun, even. Like a video game.
My feet moved silently across the wood floor, quieter even than the night I killed Maria. In a matter of seconds, I was kneeling underneath the ladder. Vince was muttering to himself under his alcohol soaked breath, complaining to no one about the size of the light bulbs. Luckily for me, a screwdriver sat on top of the other tools, perfect for me to take. I shoved it into my other back pocket, pulling my shirt down to cover the metal protruding. It was icy cold against the small of my back.
Alright, now I just need to get back out.
I pivoted on the balls of my feet, preparing to make my escape. But at that moment, the sound of shattering glass tore through the quiet room.
I completely froze. Above me, Vince swore, and the ladder shook as he began to descend.
Adrenaline poured into me, and I booked it toward the door, hoping and praying I was still quiet. Darting out the door, I ducked to the side, pressing myself up against the wall next to the door. Heart in my throat, I listened for some sign that he had noticed me.
There were a few heart stopping moments, and then Vince began to mutter again.
"Damn bulbs."
I released my held breath. He hadn't seen me.
"Time for step three, Max. Go to the kitchen."
I felt weak and shaky from the sudden adrenaline boost, and subsequent crash, but I had to go. So I took a few moments to collect myself, and then proceeded back downstairs.
Gazzy and David were still locked in avid conversation. Iggy remained leaning up against the wall, his back to me. It was pretty easy to get past them and into the dining room. There were a few maids in there, wiping down the huge table and cleaning the windows. None of them paid me any attention.
Luck was on my side yet again, as the kitchen was empty.
"To the stove."
I knew what the plan was. And oh boy, would this be fun.
He walked me through the whole thing. Loosen this screw, then this one, tug on that hose just a little bit… In just a few minutes, I had created myself a small gas leak.
David is a chainsmoker. The second his cigarette is burnt out, he'll want another one, so he'll reach for his matches. But they won't be there. And since he's too much of an old geezer to have a lighter, he'll go for the next best thing- lighting from the stove. And when he turns on the burner- boom.
I barely kept the evil grin from spreading over my face. Just a little while longer to wait, and then the rush will come. I was practically vibrating with anticipation.
Ok, I should get back to Fang.
When I went back past the living room, I kept my face turned stubbornly away. Really this was to keep them from noticing the anticipation written all over it, but they would think I was still angry with Iggy.
Fang was where I left him, laying back on my bed with his eyes closed. But he was frowning and crinkling up his brow, like you might if you were trying to go to sleep without success.
"Hey."
He immediately sat up, expression blank.
"Hey."
I plopped myself on the bed, sprawled out on my side.
"Why so serious?" I teased, doing my best Joker impression. He rolled his eyes at me.
"Forgive me, oh powerful one, for the transgression of not grinning like an idiot at all times."
I stuck my tongue out at him. And just like that, our conversation was going again, as if it had never stopped. I tried to contain all of my nervous energy, but some of it escaped in odd giggles and scrambling fingers.
Practically a century passed by before I got any indication that someone had tripped my trap. The sign I did get was subtle. A half second before all hell broke loose, there was a soft whisper.
Woosh.
The hair on the back of my neck stood straight up. Then came the crackling of flames, accompanied by a chorus of screams.
David' shrieks penetrated straight to my eardrums, dragging both me and Fang to our feet, me in excitement, Fang in terror.
Both of us rushed out onto the balcony overlooking the living room just as David burst through the dining room door.
It was magnificent.
It was horrifying.
A man came staggering through the dining room door. I couldn't tell who it was, because his whole body was engulfed in bright orange flames. And he was screaming; hoarse, guttural screams like I had never heard before. People were pouring out from every corner of the house, and they were all screaming too. I could see some of their lips moving as though they were saying words, but it was too loud for me to understand anything but utter terror.
That's when the smell hit me, and I almost wretched right there. I clapped a hand over my nose and mouth, trying to keep it out, but it didn't do any good.
It was the smell of smoke, the acrid scent of hair burning, and most disgustingly, the smell of roasting meat. It burned the inside of my nose and my throat, searing into my senses so that I could never forget.
He was still screaming, spinning in circles and flapping his arms around like some sort of demented chicken. Two of the braver maids were trying to approach him, one armed with a fire blanket, the other with an extinguisher.
The screams abruptly stopped when his knees buckled and he hit the floor, unmoving. The maid finally got the extinguisher to work and doused him in it.
The flames finally died, but the smell didn't go away. For a moment it was dead silent, everyone staring in uncomprehending horror as the mist from the extinguisher faded. As soon as he was revealed from it, the house erupted again in shrieks.
Approximately a third of his shirt had been burned away, revealing the top half of his chest. All of his visible skin was glowing red underneath, but rapidly crusting over with something black. He had no hair left on his head, and his eyes bulged from their sockets, a haunting image completed by the complete exposure of his teeth.
My knees turned to jelly and I collapsed to the floor. Without thinking, I frantically pushed myself backwards until my back hit the wall, one hand still over my face. I stared straight ahead at the chain of the chandelier. My breathing was rapidly approaching hyperventilation.
There was too much noise. I couldn't think. I tried closing my eyes, but all that got me was the image of the mans melted face, burned into the back of my eyelids.
A hand landed on my shoulder, and I nearly jumped through the ceiling. But it was only Max, looking down at me with concern. Her face was pale, and her hands trembled as she knelt next to me and grasped my shoulder. She was talking to me, but I couldn't comprehend a single word she said. I just sat there, shaking, one hand over my mouth and the other wrapped around my drawn up knees. I directed my eyes upwards, still trying to distract myself, but all I saw was the smoke stains.
I felt a tugging on my jacket. It was Max again, trying to get me to stand up. I allowed her to pull me to my feet, but only because I was too shocked and numb to do anything else. She lead me gently into her bedroom, sat me down on the bed, and shut the door.
The noise from outside dulled, and I could finally hear the blood rushing in my ears. Slowly, I took my hand away from my mouth. Then Max was in front of me.
I focused in on her, on her sandy hair and brown eyes, the freckles and tan skin. The slight curve of her chin and the angle of her jaw. She was talking to me again.
"Fang? Can you hear me?"
I gulped and forced myself to nod. She smiled.
"Good." she sat down beside me, rattling off information about what had just happened. I drank it in without a word.
"I think that was David just now. A few different people called 911, they should be here soon. I hope Gazzy didn't see that. Probably a gas leak or something like that, his smoking probably set it off. My dad was always telling him to kick the habit but he never did-"
I just sat and listened, my fingernails carving crescent moons into my palms.
Max talked and talked and talked. I couldn't feel time passing at all, it felt like everything had frozen in place. At some point I started hearing sirens in the distance, coming closer, until they were wailing right outside the house. Felt like someone was trapped in my head, hammering against my skull to get out.
"The police are gonna wanna talk to us." Max said matter-of-factly. "Ask us what we saw and all that." My finger twitched, and I felt blood run down my hand. "It's ok, I'm sure they'll go easy on you when they see how freaked out you are."
I looked at her. She wasn't pale or trembling anymore. She seemed almost… normal. Except that weird twinkle in her eyes.
I shook myself, putting it out of my mind. The last thing I needed to be thinking about right now is if Max is as traumatized if I am.
Then to my surprised, and pain, she suddenly grabbed my hand. I stared at her in confusion, and she gave me an easy going grin.
"Don't worry, Fang." she said, squeezing and making me wince. "Everything will be fine."
Then she let go, and I saw my blood smeared across her palm. She didn't seem to notice.
I couldn't suppress the shivers that wracked through me at that moment.
(A/N I hope you guys like long chapters, cause this one is a doozy. Also, this story is now 62 pages long single spaced in 11 point font, and I'm barely into the plot at all. I have no idea how this happened.
UNC-
Silence)