Chapter 27

Even the invisible barrier was dead, as I passed it I didn't realise that I was running passed trailers and ramshackle houses.

Kenneth's house was not dead though, it was loud and raucous with arguments and spiteful words. From a meter or two away I could hear the heavily slurred shouts, although most were beyond comprehension, the ones that I could understand were swears.

As he had before, Kenneth sat on the outside; Karen was sitting next to him, huddled into his side, somehow finding sleep.

The second I made myself present his eyes seemed to light up, fireworks of hope, doubt, and thought raced behind the thin veils of skin that covered his emerald orbs.

"Jesus fuck. Thank god you're here!" he said in a whisper that had as much urgency as if there was a bomb next to him.

Karen stirred slightly and he fell as silent as a stone idol. She did not wake; behind more loud voices raged in a war of vulgar vocabulary.

"Kyle's left town, Stan's following soon, not many are staying and… well, I can't leave, I have no money," he said solemnly and I walked up and sat down next to him, he wrapped his arm around my shoulder, careful not to disturb Karen and merely said: "I really need a fucking smoke," and he parted his hand.

"What are you going to do?" I asked.

"Besides get that smoke? No fucking clue, make sure Karen's safe, I guess. I'd try and hop town but… you know."

I could not remember for how long we sat there in silence, ignoring the screams from behind but eventually I said, "what was that last night?" and he stared down into the ground with grief.

"The mall was shot up." His stare turned to a glare, "people are missing and… and fuck, the cops have got no one. Hell! The cops have fucked off! Left us for fucking dead! Like… how the fuck!" Karen stirred once more and he silenced again.

'Hundreds maybe,' I thought. 'Goddamn it.'

"It's Cartman," said Kenneth suddenly but quietly, near to a whisper.

"How do you know?"

"I don't, I just think he's finally snapped. How I think it went: he was walking down the street, saw the kid was out there and attacked, that's what I think. Just spiralling from there. Why else would it be Wendy next, and why so brutal? Because he's a fucking nutcase, I'm sure."

I didn't say anything, it was a possibility, a very, very big possibility, he could worm tongue his way if he were caught in the mall, given he had enough time to chuck the gun and get far away from it. I remembered a book I once read where the villain's plan was to disguise as cops and spring out just after the massacre, just late to save the day. They were to leave shortly after; no one would have suspected a thing had the hero not stopped them. In this case, though, there was no hero, and many were left with quickly fatal bullet holes.

"Have you got your father's gun?" I asked quickly, getting to my feet.

"In the garage, still in the draw, you gonna get it?"

"Yeah," I muttered.

The bookcase had been moved but the door was closed, the inside was darker than it had ever seemed, there was no light beaming from the cracks and breaks in the fallen ceiling. I groped to the draw and yanked it open, the tens of un-clipped bullets rattled and banged against each other, the gun itself rested in the middle. Silent and waiting to be used.

When I picked it up into my hands, it felt like I was holding something wrong something dirty and so unholy in its mechanism. It was very heavy, and my palm was lowered slightly when I first took it into my hand. Even though it felt wrong, it also felt powerful; I was holding a deadly weapon. Something designed to kill someone, it didn't matter who, just someone. I felt my blood run cold at the thought.

Slowly I checked if the safety was on, there was no labelling but when I flicked the small switch down the side, it clicked, revealing a red colouring underneath. I could assume that red meant the safety was off and flicked it back up. The click sounded as bleak and hopeless as funeral bells.

Carefully I put it down the side of my trousers, making sure that the muzzle faced directly down, so if it accidentally went off there was more of the chance of my only injury being the burning of the barrel.

Just as carefully as I had done with the gun, I put as many of the spare rounds in my pockets as well as the two extra clips that were far at the back of the draw. They were filled to the brim, fifteen shots in each, forty-five bullets with all the clips, not including the spare rounds, at least Kenneth was prepared. There were still around twenty bullets in the draw when I felt they were beginning to become too over encumbering. Luckily, they didn't rattle too much when I walked and didn't bulge out of my trousers.

When I moved back to the outside I found Kenneth with his sister's head now resting lazily on his shoulder, she was awake but resting, he looked at me with the stern look of a man on death row.

"Have you got it?" he asked and I responded by patting my side. He got the message and guided Karen to sit up, her long, matted yet still elegant hair ruffling at the swift movement.

She turned to me with wide, bark-brown, innocent eyes and I felt my chest tighten at the thought of someone so young, only nine or ten, who had yet to realise the world, was stuck with the unseen threat of death looming above her. She had the innocence of someone much younger than she was and she had the fairness of a seven-year-old princess. Did she even understand the severity of the situation? No. no she did not.

"You're Pip, right?" she said with a large smile and a happy, chipper tone that pierced the gloomy atmosphere like a boiling burst of plasma to metal. I could see why Kenneth wanted to defend her so much.

"Yeah," I began, "yeah, I'm Pip."

Her grin grew wider, "Kenny's told me a lot about you!" I could see Kenneth chuckle behind her before smirking at me lewdly.

"We can keep what I tell you about Pip to ourselves, now come on," his expression turned back to seriousness as he gripped onto her shoulder, "what are we going to be doing?"

"Staying at my place, then I'll go check on Damien and Lucas," I explained, Kenneth nodded in response.

"What about Mom and Dad?" Karen asked. "We can't just leave them without telling, can we?"

The slightest hint of a scowl appeared on Kenneth's brow at the mention of his parents but nonetheless he squeezed his sister's shoulder reassuringly. "We cannot tell them this one time, just to keep you safe."

She nodded sadly before spontaneously bursting into a wide, almost holy white grin. For the first time in what felt like months, I felt hope awaken like a hibernating bear in my heart, large and powerful. I grinned back; she was so innocent, so pure. If I were some brilliant sin to Lucas then he would despise what Karen was, I felt the hope grow at that thought.

When we began walking I felt the hope begin seeping away, whoever was causing this, be it Eric or anyone else, had scared away almost everyone, even the police had left the streets, were the police even still in town? Had the bodies even been moved from the mall, or were they left to rot. And I didn't know if anyone was going to be sent in to investigate, it was a good idea that the killers had left with the hordes.

As I shared a glance with Kenneth, who was keeping a careful eye on his sister, we both came to the same decision. Whoever was killing was still in town, probably waiting to pick off anyone too stubborn to leave their town, there had to be people who would stay.

We moved as fast as we could through the empty streets, all which seemed like a hollow tree, with the look of life on the outside but empty and dead on the inside. The whole town was hollow, the same was for the buildings, and even the air seemed to blow lifelessly.

The apartment reminded me of a horror film, where every sound was enhanced and echoed to build tension, from my own footsteps to the drip of water from a bottle that had been left leaning over the railing of the stairway. Each drip from the slightly opened cap falling for miles before splashing on the ground far below, and echoing up as if the whole water bottle had been opened and tipped.

"That curfew really helped, didn't it?" Kenneth said as we moved off the stairwell to my floor and headed to my door.

"Yeah it really…" I trailed my voice and it turned to a sharp inhale of horror, my door was unlocked, the entire handle had been taken off by what seemed to be a powerful blast. Someone had broken into my home.

"What's wrong-" Kenneth began but he was interrupted by a heavy, powerful cah-chink sound from inside my apartment. "GET TO THE FLOOR!" he screamed and I obeyed falling onto my stomach just as the top of my door was blown out by a shotgun blast. Splinters of wood and small bits of metal were sent flying across the hall, small bits of boiling wood and red hot metal landed on me, burning like a branding iron, but I stayed still. The blast echoed in my ears as if it were playing on repeat.

Karen screamed and huddled into a ball on the ground, I just led on the ground, paralyzed by fear and Kenneth, acting on instinct, rushed to my side, pulled up my shirt and took the .45 from my trousers.

His sudden movement shook me from my stupor and I clumsily scrambled out of the way of the door, mindless, I couldn't think. Kenneth did the same, although with much more composure, to the opposite side, so that he was closer to Karen.

"C'mon in fuckers!" jeered the voice of Trent Boyett from inside, each word was a dark javelin piercing my heart. "C'mon you fucks! I did tell you didn't I?" he shouted.

Karen was whimpering, I was terrified, Kenneth was furious. He flipped the safety and waited, crouched on one knee with the gun aimed at the door and his other hand on Karen's shoulder.

"Go back to the stairwell," I barely heard him whisper but Karen was too scared. He sighed and tried to make eye contact with me, but he saw my unending terror, he saw me crouched there, shivering in complete utter fear for my life. I wouldn't be surprised if he heard my pitiful thoughts of 'why didn't I run? Why didn't I run?' I was useless and that realisation brought an ounce of fear into Kenneth. He realised just how weak and useless I was and how it was the same for him, no matter his courage, we were facing a complete, unadulterated psychopath.

Cah-chink, bang! And the bottom half of the door had been blown out, splinters and wood flew, as if to escape the powerful weapon. I shrieked and gasped as the bang echoed, so, so close by. Why was I so pathetic?

Before Trent could pump the weapon once more Kenneth rose to his feet and took a tentative step forward and placed his hand flat onto the door to push it inwards.

Cah-chink! And he quickly pulled his arm backwards, but no shot exploded.

"C'mon, I know you're still alive, c'mon in. COME ON IN YOU DISGUSTING FUCKERS!" then the shot exploded, leaving the door on its last hinge. I could almost feel the bullet echo solely in my mind and trained on me. I tried to squeeze my eyes shut and ignore it, to try and wish it away as if I were in some fairytale, but I was stuck in my apartment, with a madman trying to kill me, Kenneth, and then Karen.

I looked to the girl and saw her stuck with fear, tears streaming down her pale, fright-filled face and felt tears spring at my own eyes, 'I'm going to die! I'm going to die!'

Kenneth then, with much more bravery than I had, he slowly moved, and pushed the door open. He stood there for a second, just aiming the gun forward. He was about to say something but his words were stopped by the evil cah-chink! And he was set off, firing once. The entire hall being set off in a faint light from the barrels explosion.

There was a heavy gasp and then a weighted thud. I saw Kenneth aim the gun down and, with a massively shivering arm that wavered like a branch in a rainstorm, he emptied the clip into what I guessed was the now corpse of Trent. Fourteen loud banging explosions, now like a fist on wood, bringing repressed memories of my childhood that I tried to keep deep in my mind.

He stayed still for a second horror struck his face and he wretched, then ran out of the room, sprinting to the stairwell and leaned over the railing, heaving but not puking yet. He had dropped the gun in my apartment.

I saw Karen move to Kenneth's side; her movement was slow and scared. I just kept still, trying to stay in the real world but I felt the overwhelming temptation to think of a better future, where me Damien, Kenneth Stan and Kyle were all friends and I wasn't stuck with a dead man in my apartment and Kenneth nearly vomiting over the railing.

Leaving them be, I felt myself stand up and begin walking into my apartment, steeling myself for whatever sight was inside. I had to get the gun; I had to make sure we were not completely defenceless. I do not know if it was just a want for safety or the morbid curiosity to see what had befallen Trent but I entered the hall.

The first things I saw were blood splatters at the far end of the hall and the half-broken door that held on by one hinge like it was gripping for safety. I trailed my eyes down and saw the body of Trent lying face down on the ground with the shotgun trapped underneath him. Either most of Kenneth's bullets had hit his chest or the ground around him, the crimson fluid seeped in a large pool underneath him. His head though, was the most gruesome wound, a large chunk of his skull was missing, fragments, brain matter and the remains of his eye stepped through the large crack. I didn't retch though, I just was stuck in disbelief, I took a step forwards and moved almost mindlessly until I was in the light of my living room.

"Well, certainly a nasty sight isn't it? Eh Pip?" Said a voice inside the room. It was a nasally voice like a weasel, with the heartlessness of a bloodsucking, soulless vampire.

When I turned my mindlessness was broken as I saw Eric, sitting in my living room on my reading chair, dressed in a full pinstripe suit, white gloves and a red tie, he had dressed himself for the occasion, all except the same puffball hat, as some sort of memento to the past. He held a revolver, aimed at my chest.

"Never knew the poor boy had it in him… though," he aimed his gun down at the floor and I saw the .45 on the ground nearly at my feet. "He should look where he is throwing."

I could hear Kenneth vomiting, heedless of my predicament.

'Oh no. Why? Why me? Why now?'

I took a step to my left but he turned his revolver back at me.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk," he began, like a disappointed mother, "you know, I've been waiting for this, you really piss me off. Did you know that? That's why I want you to be my first."

I began in a long stutter, "s-s-so it was Trent who's done everything... e-e-everything else? All the other killings?" I said, trying to distract him so I could either get help. Any help, anyone to stop me from dying.

Eric shrugged his shoulders, but kept the gun trained on me.

"Hell if I know, I just gave him this idea before the mall was shot up, shame, wasn't it?" He sounded like this was only small talk to him.

I made a run to the left, tripping over my own brashness and I landed in a small crawl from Trent. Eric shot a second too late and his bullet hit the wall.

I crawled top the corpse, feeling sickened by the gore and blood beneath my fingers and the sight of his half-missing head. When I was closer, I realised that I could see some of the bone of his skull protruding from the remnants of his head, I realised why Kenneth was vomiting. It was so horrible. I hardly registered Eric's shout of "You fucker!" over my own internal horror.

I tried to keep my mind as blank as possible as I franticly wrestled the gun from his loose grip and heavy body. With a strong heave, I pulled it from under him and cocked the weapon, in a heavy cah-chink that took a large amount of my strength. I didn't even know if I would ever get the chance to use it but I tried to do it as if it would scare Eric off.

When I turned around, I was stuck as still as stone when I saw the barrel of the revolver between my eyes. He was grinning; a disturbed grin that I knew was of pure madness.

He cocked the gun and leaned down, placing a kiss on my forehead.

"I've always wanted to see what this is like," he whispered perversely.

The shotgun was useless; I would never be able to shoot fast enough, if I had the courage to do it at all.

Then Kenneth entered the doorway, with an almost drunken stumble, placing his hand on the wall to support him and wiping mile away with his other. He fumbled forward, trying his best to keep focus on Eric; his loud clattering movements stole Eric's attention.

In the second that he was distracted, I pushed the muzzle of the shotgun against his stomach and squeezed my eyes to a close. Silently wishing for forgiveness, I pulled the trigger.

It lurched backward and the muzzle brought forth a ringing explosion that went flying into Eric's well dressed stomach. As powerful as a giant's punch.

As if it was a heavy hand on my arms, the shotgun's kickback sent me falling backwards, leading me onto the still bleeding body of Trent. I felt the crimson liquid seep into my hair and his brain-matter splayed head stained my shirt.

Eric fell in the opposite direction; I felt his own blood spray on my face, almost like a splash of some dirty water, just before he fell to the ground with a heavy, forgotten crumple of fat and flesh to wood. He was limp and dead.

I dared to open my eyes, light creped through the cracks and Kenneth leaned above me, looking down at my bloody, crimson dyed figure with sadness and heavy guilt.

"I...I-I'm going to go get Karen and take her to your room to sleep, is that ok?" he asked softly but shaken, in an imitation of a mother.

I just slowly nodded, rising so that I was sitting up, my clothes were soaked red and it sunk to touch me as if Trent was trying to terrify me once more from beyond the recent grave.

He sighed, "go…. G-go, go and get a shower and change and… shit, fuck! Just… check on Damien, make sure he is ok. I'll… I'll take care of…" a look of disgust passed over him, "I'll take care of these two. Ok... O-ok?" it was more of a statement then a question.

I could do nothing but nod, and turn to my bathroom. Throwing the shotgun as far away from me, I entered the white porcelain room.

A scream raised itself to my throat but I suppressed it, I had to stay strong until I made sure Damien was ok. I couldn't help but fear for his safety.

Behind I could hear Kenneth muter repeated curse after curse to the air, to the bodies, to the world itself.