Chapter 5: Seven Little Indians...
They managed to eat a bit after cleaning up in the sitting room and putting Giles to rest in his room. They ate in silence; each eyeing each other suspiciously and wondering whom of them could kill so cold-bloodedly.
"Angel's been too calm… could he be Angelus again?"
"Willow might be up to some dark magic again… she's always had a problem…"
"Spike's a killer, plain and simple. This goodness he's been displaying could all be smoke and lights right about now…"
"Anya's a vengeance demon… maybe she's exacting her vengeance… no powers, but did that ever stop her?"
"Buffy couldn't kill her sister… besides, she's the Slayer, right? Unless there's a time limit on her duty and she just goes psycho…"
"Cordelia's a demon now, and God knows what kind…"
"Xander always had issues… but to kill? Maybe he's gone mad… maybe we've all gone mad…"
The silent accusations spun around the room and in the mind of the real killer, the thought was: "So far, so good… they are falling into my clutches… the perfect crime, indeed!" The killer turned to look at the next victim and smiled.
After lunch, Willow announced she was tired and wanted to go up to her room and sleep. Cordy and Anya accompanied her and after making sure her room was locked, they came back down together. They were sitting in the sitting room, trying to research, trying not to lose hope. If they could only make it till Monday, thought Angel.
He saw Buffy staring into space and his heart went out to her. "What are you thinking?" he asked her, in a hushed whisper.
"Hmm? Oh, uh… the poem… the next verse… Seven little Indian boys chopping up sticks; one chopped himself in halves then there were six," recited Buffy. "It's a clue, Angel… I need to figure it out."
"Yeah, but in the meantime," Angel added, louder for them all to hear, "no one better go chop wood, especially alone," he warned.
They all nodded like the idea of doing that was insane. Then Cordy sighed and asked, "Are we going crazy? Is this a dream? Because I'd like to wake up now!"
"It's not a dream, pet," answered Spike, softly. "This is very real."
Cordy stood up and began to pace, "Guys, we don't just die, okay? We're champions, remember? This is insane!"
And some of them thought: Methinks the lady doth protest too much…
"Even champions die, Cordy…" said Angel, looking at her pointedly.
Cordy saw his expression, then nodded. "Yes… yes, they do," she said and resumed her place.
"Huh?" asked Buffy, looking at the change in Cordy's demeanor.
"Someone we knew. Long story," he explained cryptically.
Buffy didn't say anything, but inwardly scowled. Since when have Angel and Cordy been so buddy-buddy, that they had 'long stories' now? Although she knew it was selfish, she had to admit she didn't like how close the two had become. And since Buffy had thought that she would have never seen the day the former cheerleader and her ex-lover would be 'close' friends, she now was pretty sure that seeing the day one of her friends could kill her sister and Watcher wasn't so far behind.
Spike saw them tiring and forced his eyes to focus on the book. The Watcher was holding this book last… He had a hunch the old man had been on to something… the answer must be inside. He would find it.
And you think a runt like you could find the answer to this?
Spike lifted his head at the sound, but saw everyone still immersed in their books. He shook his head and concentrated on the page in front of him.
Now, William, you don't think you could actually do this, do you? Why don't you leave it to those who can do their job? It's not really like you had a chance.
Spike looked up again, knowing he was just hearing things. I *can* do this. I must, he thought. He pushed the voice away and went back to the book.
I suppose you think I would find it admirable that you are so dedicated, said the voice. But you forget I know the kind of… man, if I could use the word, you are. You're a spineless, self-absorbed runt is what you are. Poetry and feelings and all. Nothing like the British gent you should be, I'll say.
No, thought Spike. My father's dead. Has been the last hundred and odd years. I will not let my mind play tricks on me.
Stupid charver, the voice mocked. Doesn't even know when he's dreaming or not. Do you not know that you can never fathom the kind of being I am? Or has your mind been polluted by your inappropriate lust for your blonde tart? Only a bloody weakling would consume himself with such a whore…
"She is NOT A WHORE!" he screamed out, rising out of his seat. He looked around and saw them all staring at him.
"Spike?" asked Cordy, nervously. He shook his head and resumed his position, very much aware of the seven sets of eyes focused on him in fear and suspicion.
My father is dead, he said in his mind, my father is dead. The bloody wanker's dead and if he knows what's good for him he'll stay dead. I've had enough of the bastard for one lifetime.
Cordy sat in shock over Spike's outburst. Were they all going mad? She tried to concentrate on the book, but it was long and boring. Demons, demons, and more demons. Lord, what she wouldn't do for her database back at the office. She could have narrowed this down to eight demons by now. That is, if they were even *looking* for demons.
With Giles dead, she was growing more certain that he was telling the truth. Meaning the barrier did exist and demons would have no power here. So what were they trying to find?
Someone was hunting them, she thought. Hunting them down.
"Come on, Marcus… you can't hide from us!"
"Marky-Marky… got the mack on Cordy, dontcha?"
"Come out, come out, Perry… I got a bat with your name on it… teach you to mess with our girls…"
"Max, don't! A bat? That's… that's not cool!"
"Got a soft spot for the nerd, huh? Okay, Cordy… you decide his punishment…"
"Punishment? Guys, we don't have…"
"Come on, Cordelia, you're not wimping out, are you?"
"We thought you were cool…"
"I am… but…"
"What'll it be, Queen C?"
"Um… just… just tie him up to the tree, okay?"
"Woo-hoo! You're smart, Cordy! Great idea!"
"Cordelia, my love… I'm so…"
"What, sorry? God, grow up, Marcus… you embarrassed me! Me! Cordelia! The most popular girl in school!"
"I know, I throw myself at your…"
"Yeach! Please! I was coming back to untie you but you know… maybe you *do* need a lesson… maybe a bigger one at that…"
"What are you doing? Cordelia?!"
"You know what it's like to have yourself exposed before the school? Well, now you will, buddy… Off with your shoes…"
"Cordelia, no! Please! Don't!"
"Maybe you should have thought about that before, buddy! What ever made you think you could have *me*?!"
She hadn't been honest… not even with herself. She was responsible for Marcus' death, not just a party to it. She was going to die a brutal death, just like Dawn, and Tara, and Giles.
And maybe , she thought, shaking in fear, maybe she deserved it…
Minutes stretched into hours and soon, the humans of the group had to eat again. Spike and Angel agreed they had to sit through the meal in order for them to stay together. So, the two vampires and Anya sat at the table, reading as Buffy set it while Xander and Cordy were in the kitchen, preparing the food.
"See… seven," Buffy pointed out to Angel and Spike. "Seven Indians…"
Spike nodded with a weak smile, then returned to the book in front of him.
Cordelia brought out a steaming bowl as she suggested they go get Willow. Anya and Buffy said they would go when they heard her screaming from above. They rushed upstairs and unlocked the door to see Willow screaming and pointing to the drawer of the nightstand. Buffy looked closer and saw the drawer was filled with ice cubes.
"I never meant it!" Willow screamed. "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!"
Buffy remembered how Willow had killed those two students with the sheets of ice and tried to calm the redhead down.
"Shhh… it's okay, Willow… it's just a mean trick…"
"It was an accident… please… believe me…"
"We do," soothed Buffy. "We know you didn't mean it…"
"The killer's messing with you, that's all, Red… Here, drink this," Spike said, pulling out a silver flask. "It'll calm your nerves."
Willow eyed the flask suspiciously and shook her head. "How do I know you're not trying to poison me?" she said.
Buffy looked at the flask and said, "I'll go get you some water," going to the adjoining bathroom.
Spike smiled a little at her ingenuity then said, "I wouldn't do that, pet. If I were to kill you, I wouldn't do it with an audience… they'd stake me in a heartbeat. But if you feel so strongly, here," he said, taking a swig himself. When nothing happened, he offered it again and Willow took it hesitantly.
She eyed it carefully again, then grimaced. "Ew, you backwashed."
Buffy came back with the water, but saw Willow holding the flask.
Spike looked at her, indignantly and said, "I have you know that's premium whiskey! If you don't want it, don't have to drink it, luv. More for me," he said, reaching to take the flask back, but inwardly smiled as she lifted it to her lips and took a small sip, coughing slightly as the bitter, warm liquid went down her throat.
"Thank you," she said, handing the flask back. "Although it tastes awful…"
"Acquired taste," Spike smirked.
Willow smiled, then her smile faded as she said, "I woke up and reached over. I felt ice everywhere. I thought they were coming back for me, to teach me a lesson," she shuddered. "Who would do this to me?" she cried.
"This murderer's messing with our minds… he's getting personal," said Angel.
"Speaking of which… where's Xander?" asked Anya, from behind Angel.
They all turned to see Xander, nowhere to be found.
Xander heard a few bumps and scrapes from the other room and put down the knife he was using to cut the vegetables. He cocked his ear and heard nothing, so he continued cutting.
He wasn't going to let every noise and sound scare him. He was a man, after all. He'd seen worse… worse demons, worse witches, worse situations… true, none of them led to some of them *dying* before, but they would get through this, they would.
Besides, Xander was pretty sure he knew who it was. He just had to prove it.
Imagine, trying to accuse him of murdering his brother. Aaron fell out of a tree, it was an accident!
Really?
"Huh?" Xander said out loud, spinning on his heel. No, there were no voices…
"Xander! You watch your brother now!"
"Aww, Mom, do I have to?!"
No, this wasn't happening… not again…
"Xander! Look at that tree! It's up in the clouds! Can I climb that tree, Xander? Please? I want to touch the clouds!"
"No! It's too high! You're going to hurt yourself!"
"Dude, where's your brother?"
"Over there… annoying brat…always following me around…"
"Yeah, dude, that sucks!"
"God, I hate my brother... man, you're lucky you got sisters…"
Xander would do anything to have Aaron back, right? He… he loved his brother… he never meant it… he never meant to turn him away...
"Xander… I want to cl-…"
"Augh! Why can't you just leave me alone?! Get away from me!"
"But… Xander…"
"Do whatever the hell you want! Just leave me alone!"
"Xander, look at me!"
"Aaron, NO!"
"NOOO!" Xander cried out loud. He covered his head with his hands, blubbering uncontrollably.
"Time to pay the piper…" said the voice. "And the price is death…"
Xander's eyes widened as he looked up to face his killer. "You…" he breathed. "I knew it was you! It had to be!"
"Yes, Xander, for once, you figured something out on your own," the killer said, as the butcher knife slid into him. "Too bad you won't live to enjoy it…"
"Last I saw him, he was in the kitchen, making the salad…" added Cordelia, racing down the hall.
They all followed her down to the kitchen and Cordelia, who was the first, saw Xander standing at the counter, back to them.
"Xander?" she said, quietly.
Xander didn't move so she crept closer and touched his shoulder. Pulling him around, his legs gave out and he slipped to the floor.
Cordelia looked down at the butcher knife protruding from his chest and let loose an incredible scream. Xander stared blankly at her, with unresponsive eyes.
Angel came around and lifted Xander's inert body so he could lay him down as Spike reached over and pulled Cordy back.
Willow stood horrified as Buffy rushed out into the dining room. She saw Anya already there, staring at the table. When she came in, Anya said nervously, "I had to check, too. Look!" she pointed to the centerpiece. "Six Indians…"