Chapter 42: This One's Different
Katrina followed Vincent through the tunnel into the Sinclair house and up into his father's study.
"God damn it, Vincent!" she exclaimed as she stepped in more blood right in front of the door.
He shrugged and smiled sheepishly. "I'll clean it up, Kitty. Don't worry."
She giggled and pressed her forehead into his chest. "I love you so much."
"I love you too," Vincent answered, holding her tightly. "Come on." After leading her up to their room, he kissed her again. "Do you want anything? Ice cream?"
"No, I don't need to get any fatter," she said crossly as she threw herself on the bed.
He sighed at her sudden mood swing and went to kiss her forehead, then her nose. Katrina smiled up at him as he straightened up and pulled his mask from his pocket.
"Make sure Bo doesn't hear you taking the truck," she commanded. "You know he's going to be pissed at you going out there."
"They need to be taken care of now, Kitty," he reminded her. "You know that."
She nodded and waved at him as he went out the door. Her thoughts turned to worrying about giving birth, as they always did when she was alone, until she began to doze.
It wasn't long before Katrina was shocked out of sleep by the front door slamming loudly, rattling her window. After jumping in fright, she snuggled down into her covers, thinking the men were back from their killing spree. But something just felt wrong. She sighed and wiggled further down into the soft blanket, wondering why she kept worrying so much. The sound of something crashing downstairs made her jump again and she sat up in bed.
"Katrina!" she heard Bo shout. The tone of his voice made her realize something was terribly wrong. She pulled herself up from the bed and hurried downstairs as quickly as her pregnant body would allow.
Turning the corner into the kitchen, she gasped loudly, pressing herself against the refrigerator in horror. There were arrows sticking out of Bo's body.
"What the fuck are you waiting for, woman? Don't just fucking stand there, help me!"
She hurried over to him, gagging at the sight of the embedded arrows.
"P . . . pull it out . . ." Bo coughed, holding out his arm. "Fucking pull . . . the fuck . . . pull it out."
Katrina grasped the arrow by its shaft and pulled as hard as she could. It made a sickening slick sound as it came out. Bo threw his head over the sink and threw up violently. She grasped his good arm, wanting to console him, but he shoved her away.
"Get me somethin' to tie around it!"
She wet the strip of cloth she used to dry clean dishes and wet it before tying it around the wound tightly. Blood trickled out everywhere, staining the white cloth a dark red and dripping to the floor with sickening plops.
"Well?" Bo roared. "Pull this other fucking one out!"
Katrina swallowed the bile that rose in her throat and gripped the arrow in his chest. She tried to pull it out, but he only began throwing up again. "You need a hospital . . ." she whispered.
"Pull it out!" he ordered.
She tried again, but it was no use. "It's not coming."
He pulled clippers out of his pocket and cut off part of the arrow. "Fuck that, Katrina. You're just gonna have to . . ."
Headlights shone in the window, and the noise of a truck pulling into the driveway rumbled through the house.
"What the fuck?" Bo mumbled, limping over to the window.
Katrina took a deep, shuddering breath and sank to the floor of the kitchen, sitting in droplets of Bo's blood. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw something moving under the pool table, but was too shook up to figure out just what it was. Vaguely, she heard Bo yelling at someone. Moments later, Vincent came stalking in, his eye blazing with anger. He took one look at Katrina before jerking her up.
"Upstairs. Now!" he growled at her.
She stared at him, not really comprehending. "Bo . . ." she began.
He gripped her arm painfully, murmuring words into her ear. "It's not safe. This one's different. Get upstairs!" He shoved her, hard.
With tears streaming down her face, Katrina obeyed. She sat on the bed, pulling the coverlet between her fingers nervously. It sounded as if the house was being ransacked downstairs. She could hear Bo shouting orders and Vincent's murmured replies. Suddenly, the lights in the house turned off. Katrina screamed and jumped up. She could see the lights of Ambrose flickering out the window. Pulling the curtain back, Katrina watched in confusion as they turned off and on, off and on.
"What the hell . . ." she murmured.
Katrina turned abruptly as someone threw open her bedroom door. It was Vincent.
"They're down in the workshop," he told her. "I want you to stay here, Kitty, no matter what. Understand?"
She could do nothing but nod her head before he slammed the door shut. Her eyes widened when she realized he was locking the door from the outside.
"Vincent!" Katrina cried. "Please, please don't do this!"
"I love you," were the last words she heard.