Hi again, everyone. Hopefully now that the holidays are winding down, I'll be able to find time to update this more frequently. We're actually nearing the end, believe it or not... But there is still plenty of excitement still to come... Thank you to everyone who is still reading and to all who leave me lovely little reviews. I love you guys. :) Here's the next chapter. Enjoy:

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Cotton Weary stood awkwardly next to the others as they talked over their plan. The killer seemed to be on the roof, and he was armed with a gun Dewey claimed held fifteen bullets and one in its chamber, for a total of sixteen potential shots to be fired. All five of them agreed that they had heard five shots already. That meant there were eleven left, which was more than enough to kill all of them.

"There's got to be some way onto the roof," Dewey spoke in a hushed whisper, "If a few of us stay down here and talk loud enough where he can hear us, the rest of us can sneak up behind him and catch him off guard."

"I don't think that's gonna work, Dewey," Randy furrowed his eyebrows, "you think he's just going to stare toward the voices and not pay attention to his surroundings at all? He's not a dog or a baby... We can't just distract him with noise."

Dewey shrugged, "do you have any better ideas? We can't get out from under this roof. Of course, if we all just ran, he couldn't hit us all, but he might hit some of us. I don't think that's a risk any of us want to take. We'll go up there quietly, and if it doesn't seem like it'll work, we'll come back down and think of something else."

"So who's going up there?" Cotton frowned.

"You and I can," Dewey suggested.

Cotton nodded as he looked at Dewey's eyes. He could see exactly what the cop was thinking. He wanted to leave those he cared about most down here where he felt they'd be safer. Sidney was like a sister to him, Gale was his girlfriend, and Randy - Cotton wasn't sure who Randy was to Dewey, perhaps just a goofy kid the cop had grown attached to. He must have cared about the young man enough to try to keep him safe for whatever reason.

"I'm not staying down here if you aren't," Gale objected, "you keep doing this, Dewey," she shook her head in annoyance as she tried to keep her voice down, "you keep saying we'll stick together, and then you leave me behind. I'll go where you go."

"I'll just go up there on my own," Cotton offered, "there's no use for more than one person risking their lives. Besides, the fewer people, the quieter it'll be, and the more likely he won't hear us."

"Cotton," Sidney was shaking her head as she stared at him with sympathetic eyes.

"It'll be fine, Sidney," Cotton forced a smile. If anyone had to risk being killed, it might as well be him. Dewey and Gale loved each other. If one died, the other would be devastated. Randy and Sidney were best friends, and were still just teenagers. Cotton didn't really have much family, and certainly had even fewer friends. If it made sense for any of them to risk their life, Cotton had to be the one.

Dewey exhaled, "well, let's make this quick before he comes down and starts looking for us."

"I think I saw some sort of escape ladder around the back," Gale spoke.

"Here," Randy handed him a tire iron which he had been carrying around all this time, "walk up behind him and bash him over the head. Hit him hard. And then hit him hard again. Don't hold back. He deserves it. And don't you forget that he's not going to go down easily. They never do."

Cotton stared at him. Randy was clearly and understandably pissed at this person.

"Someone should go with him at least to the ladder," Gale spoke up, "the killer could have easily come back down by now, and if he's running around down here, anyone who ends up alone is going to be in a whole lot of danger. I don't want to send you off completely on your own, Cotton," she looked at him.

"We'll walk with you to the ladder," Dewey offered, "Sidney, Randy," he looked toward the younger two, "you guys stay here, and maybe make a little noise, but stay aware of your surroundings. If you get a chance to run and get out of here, take it. If you see him on the ground, you might as well make a run for it if you can. Don't worry about the rest of us."

Neither of them looked like they were going to take that advice, but neither of them objected either. It seemed like these four were the sort of group who left no man behind. Cotton wondered if he would be included in that 'leave no man behind' policy. Would they even care if Cotton got himself killed? He wasn't quite sure.

The three of them did not speak as they made their way toward the back of the building as quietly as possible.

Once they reached the ladder, Cotton turned toward Gale and Dewey, "I'll climb up and see if he's up there," he started in the softest whisper possible, "if I don't come back down in about thirty seconds, it means he's up there, and that I'm going after him."

Gale looked extremely nervous, "be careful," she whispered.

"Stay safe," Dewey squeezed his shoulder.

Cotton nodded, "you guys should get back to Sidney and Randy," he suggested, "if I fail in this, I'll probably be dead, so there's no need for you guys to stay split up. The only way I'm coming back down this ladder will be if the killer is dead."

Gale stared at him with huge eyes.

Cotton shook his head, "just get back to the others," he repeated.

Gale didn't move until Dewey started pulling her along with him. He gave them a small wave and then began making his way up the ladder.

Once he was at the top, he peeked up over the edge of the roof. Near the other side, the side closest to the parking lot where his car was parked, paced a dark, shadowy figure. It was actually pretty dark up here. The lamps in the parking lot did little to light above the roof, which was very lucky for Cotton as he stayed low and sneaked across the rooftop.

As he made his way cautiously across the roof, he gripped the tire iron tightly in his hands.

The dark figure he was drawing ever nearer to walked close to the edge of the roof, seemingly toward the place where they had left Sidney and Randy. Cotton supposed they were making a small bit of noise in order to keep the killer's attention in that general direction. Hopefully the fact that he was wearing that awful mask would mean his peripheral vision would be lacking.

Cotton was becoming increasingly nervous as he got closer and closer to the killer. He could swear his own heartbeat was the loudest thing to be heard within a radius of a mile or so. He squeezed the tire iron as he held his breath and moved forward.

Just when Cotton thought he might seriously pull this off, the person near the edge of the roof turned toward him. And the masked figure didn't even seem surprised. He simply turned slowly and stared ahead.

For a moment, Cotton wondered if the killer had even seen him. Maybe the mask made everything look darker to him. Maybe, somehow, Cotton was standing in a blind spot, or perhaps the killer saw pretty much just darkness in this poorly lit area. Cotton stood still as the two of them faced each other in complete silence.

He debated just lunging at the cloaked figure and attacking him, taking his chances and going for it. But then, he could see that the killer held Dewey's gun in his gloved hand. The fight definitely wasn't an equal one. A tire iron could do a lot of damage, but a gun could do more damage, quicker, and from a distance. If Cotton moved to tackle this guy or hit him, he would probably be shot immediately. So instead, Cotton simply stood there and waited to see what would happen.

"Cotton Weary," the killer's oddly disguised voice spoke, "they've sacrificed you."

Cotton frowned as he stared at the mysterious person standing before him, "why don't you take that costume off and talk to me like an adult," he suggested, "who are you? Why are you doing this?" he spoke. Considering he was probably about to die, Cotton hoped he could at least understand what this person hoped to gain from his death, and the deaths of all his previous victims.

"Why did you come here, Cotton?" the killer asked, "you were told that Gale and Dewey were here and at my mercy, and that they would be killed unless you risked your own life to come here. You had to know it wasn't going to be that easy. You had to know I wasn't just going to let everyone go on their merry way. So what have they ever done for you to make you feel like your life was worth risking for theirs?"

Cotton stared angrily ahead at the ghost mask covering the face of the person who stood menacingly before him. He didn't owe this murderer any explanation. He came here because he knew Dewey and Gale were good people. He came here because Gale had once fought for his freedom when no one else would. He came here because Officer Dewey Riley tried so hard to do to the right thing. Cotton didn't want the world to lose these people. He didn't only follow the killer's instructions so that Dewey and Gale's lives might be spared. Part of the reason he came here was so that he might be able to help end this. This person, whoever he or she was, had murdered innocent teenage girls and the father of a young woman whose mother had been killed not all that long before. Cotton wanted to help stop him, and to bring justice for all his victims.

"Well, if you've got nothing else to say, neither have I," the killer shrugged, raised Dewey's gun so that it pointed at Cotton, and fired a single shot.

Cotton felt a piercing pain in his abdomen. He fell back and clutched at the wound. He could feel wet, sticky liquid oozing out between his fingers as he stared up at the night sky filled with stars. It didn't take long at all for those stars to disappear and for everything to fade to black.

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:O