Pretty Savage

by T. A. Kunz

  “How the hell did you know about us?” Drea asks. Her voice trembles near the end of the question.

  “Lori was the first one I coerced into helping me,” he replies. “A picture of your little kiss on the hood of her car really set her off. The poor dear couldn’t handle the thought of what that getting out would do to you. She was mine after that.”

  Initially, Drea stands there looking stunned, unable to give any kind of retaliation. Then she explodes and tries to rush him, but I hold her back.

  “Go to hell, you bastard!” she shouts as tears begin to trail down her cheeks.

  “Killing isn’t the answer to anything,” I finally say in response to his question. “No, I wouldn’t want that.”

  “Oh, so you can talk?” he mocks me. “Come on, you can’t deny that sometimes it’s necessary.”

  “I couldn’t live with myself if I did what you’ve done,” I argue.

  He begins to laugh, a low sound that croaks in the back of his throat. “Technically, I didn’t do anything except save your lives back at the barn with the sheriff’s gun, which I promptly returned to its rightful place. So, I guess he’ll get the credit for that one.” He pauses for a moment before continuing. “Your friends took care of the rest. They all picked each other off one by one because their secrets were too precious, too deadly, to be exposed.”

  “What are you talking about?” I demand.

  He braces himself against the side of the vehicle in order to stand on his own. His hand sweeps across his forehead and he looks at the blood that comes away on his fingers. He laughs again under his breath.

  “They were all the fox,” he says. “They all have blood on their hands, whether figuratively or literally. I just made sure to set them up perfectly. With your help too, of course, my good little catalysts. But I never killed anyone until Carter, which, again, was to save your lives. So, in a roundabout way, you kind of owe me.”

  “We don’t owe you anything,” cries Drea.

  “And this is the thanks I get,” he sneers.

  “You’re sick, man, you know that?” I say.

  “No!” he booms. “What’s sick is a group of people chasing a young girl to her death. What’s sick is a town’s sheriff covering up said death by saying it was an accident, when in reality it was his drunk driving son who caused it.” He draws in a deep, rough breath. “What’s sick is that a group of people would kill the ones they supposedly love over things like jealousy, greed, lust, rage … or, in Carter’s case, just because he enjoyed doing it. I really did luck out with that one. Now that’s sick.”

  I go to reply, but he cuts me off. “Small town America likes to pretend things are just peachy. Safe in their quaint little bubbles. But there’s always chaos simmering just beneath the surface. Ready to boil over at any moment. So forgive me for wanting to exploit that for the sake of my sister!”

  “You honestly think Carrie would have wanted you to do this?” I spit out.

  “No, but then again, she never knew what was best for her in the first place. She was too innocent. Too naïve. Your classic, good girl type. All the boys wanted her attention. They all loved Carrie.”

  Drea scoffs. “Okay, we get it. Carrie was a perfect princess. Get on with it.”

  “How dare you reduce her to that?” he fires back. “Did you know that a week before she died, she called me at college to tell me what was going on here? Have you ever felt helpless, unable to be there for the ones you love? I was on the opposite side of the country and wanted to protect her, but couldn’t. She told me about all the new friends she’d made here in Haddon Falls. About Trent. And after reading through her diary, I could see she was blind to how terrible these people really were. She was too close to it. She couldn’t see how they were corrupting her.”

  “They tried to help your sister,” Drea says. “Trent was the only one who hurt her.”

  “You’re wrong. You didn’t get to read what I did in that diary. They were manipulative,” he replies forcefully. “They all had to pay.”

  “What about Harrison? Connor?” I ask, my patience wearing thin. “What about us? Your work isn’t done if we’re still alive, right? Civilian casualties and all that?”

  “Well, both of you look like absolute shit, Harrison was stabbed, and Connor was shot. I’d say things worked out well enough.” His smug reply has my cheeks flushed with anger. “Both of your deaths would have been a nice extra emotional toll on them, but I’ll take what I can get.”

  “Take what you can get?” I repeat.

  “Yeah. And let’s not forget that at the end of the day, it’ll be your word against mine … a deputy who, mind you, hasn’t done anything wrong. And if you kill me with my own gun, how will that look? You’ve got no evidence to back up your claims.”

  That statement resonates deep within me. Did we just lose this game? Is he right? His mouth coils into a sick grin at my blank expression.

  “What are you proposing then?” I say. “We just give up and surrender?”

  “We go our separate ways. Clean slate. I’ve got my revenge, and you have your lives to show for all of this,” he replies. “And I’m sure you’ll be seen as heroes in the eyes of this shithole town.”

  “Yeah, right,” Drea says. “As if. You’ll just come after us later.”

  “I guess you’ll just have to take my word, now, won’t cha?”

  “I guess we don’t really have a choice,” I say, lowering the gun.

  The deputy relaxes back against the cruiser. “Looks that way.”

  My eyes move to the flashing lights on top of the car. The memory of an earlier conversation with the deputy plays in my mind.

  “Or do we?” I raise the gun at him as he stands back up. “You seem to have overlooked one thing in your otherwise flawless plan, Deputy.”

  “Oh? And what’s that exactly?”

  I close in on him before circling out toward the road, never letting him leave my sights. “Your dash cam has been recording this whole conversation. It picked up all the audio. Your confession,” I reply, just as self-assured as he sounded.

  His eyes narrow. His jaw tenses. He glances over at the lights above the car and then down to the open door.

  “Don’t even think about it,” I warn.

  The deputy relaxes his stance. He puts his hands in the air next to his chest and a subtle laugh leaves his lips. “What are you going to do? Shoot me?”

  “Haven’t decided yet,” I reply, taking an assertive step forward.

  He inches along the side of the cruiser and slithers around the open car door until he’s standing on his own, out in the open and away from the vehicle. Isolated. Each step I take forward he takes two back.

  “You’re not going to get away with this,” he says when he nears the cliff’s edge. “There’s no way you’re getting out of this without getting blood on your hands.”

  “Then it looks like we have something in common, huh?” I reply.

  I surge forward, rushing him. His eyes widen as he takes a sizable step back. Gravel breaks away under his feet and slides down the cliff. His left leg buckles and slips back. His arms flail about before extending out for me.

  “Help me!” he cries.

  I’m not a killer.

  I reach my hand out. He takes hold of it. He pulls me off my feet as he continues to fall. We crash to the ground. He continues to slide off the side of the cliff as I struggle to maintain my grip on his hand. My sweaty palms make the task even more difficult. I discard the gun off to the side in order to grab onto the deputy’s other hand.

  “Donovan,” Drea shouts. She takes hold of my arms and attempts to help me pull the deputy to safety.

  We’re all struggling. My teeth clench tight, holding back a strained groan. For a split second, I notice Deputy Owens’s eyes shift to the gun lying on the ground next to us. His eyes dart back over to me, suspicion present in his stare.

  You’ve got to be kidding me. He wouldn’t, would he?

  He s
hakes his left hand free from my grasp and goes for the gun.

  “Drea, the gun!” I yell.

  She reacts quickly and knocks the weapon away from his reach. He struggles to get a hold of the rough terrain with his left hand, then tries to wrap it around mine still holding onto his right one. Our eyes slam into each other. I shake my head as I feel his hand slip through my clammy grasp.

  Then suddenly, I’m holding onto nothing. He falls back, disappearing into the darkness below with a horrible scream. A loud, thunderous splash follows moments later.

  Drea helps me to my feet, and I find myself in her arms, enveloped in a tight hug.

  “That was incredibly stupid,” she says, and squeezes me harder. “What were you thinking?”

  “I know. I had a terrible lapse in judgment.”

  “You practically gave me a heart attack.”

  “I’m sorry,” I say. “I hated how I felt when I saw him falling. I felt like I did that. That I was the one responsible. I wanted him to fall … and that scared me. I felt no better than him.”

  “I get that. I do, but you’re nothing like him, Donovan.” She pulls back to look at me. “What he did? There’s no coming back from that, understand?”

  I nod and proceed to bury my head into her shoulder. The tears I’d been holding back summon forth all at once, and I’m finally able to fully reciprocate the hug.

  We separate after a moment. I move to stand at the edge to stare down through water-logged eyes.

  “Karma one, Deputy Owens zero,” I say under my breath.

  “What?” asks Drea.

  “Oh, nothing.”

  “Do you think he survived that fall?” she asks, joining by my side and peering down the cliff along with me.

  “Nope.”

  “Good,” she says, just as blunt.

  I nudge the gun off the side of the cliff with the toe of my shoe and hear it hit the water.

  “What are we going to tell the police?” Drea asks.

  “The truth,” I say. “I think there’s been enough lies.”

  “Yeah. Besides, like you said, we’ve got all the evidence we need, right?”

  I nod. Then I remember I still owe her a declaration for getting out of this.

  “I’ve never truly been kissed,” I admit. “But I plan to make Connor my first.”

  She looks over at me and smiles. “Your confession. You remembered.”

  I take hold of her hand and give it a light squeeze. “I promised, didn’t I?”

  “Yeah, that you did.”

  We continue staring out at the vast emptiness before us. For the first time in a long time, I feel free … truly free to be who I am. After surviving this whole ordeal, I’m beginning to think the remainder of our senior year should be a walk in the park.

  We’ve sure earned it.

  A few weeks later … Halloween

  Donovan

  It’s my first holiday in Haddon Falls.

  Unlike Halloween back where I’m from, the kids here apparently trick-or-treat around downtown before heading out into the neighborhoods. The Pour Over just so happens to be one of the prime stops.

  “We need another jumbo bag of candy up here, Marcus,” I call out to him from the front counter.

  He hurries from the back room, a massive sack of candy in hand, and resupplies the large cauldron bowl near the register. Every time I see him in his costume, I do a double-take. He’s decided to introduce Miz Markie Marc to the entire town. His rendition of the classic Marilyn Monroe in a ruffled white dress is a revelation. An almost spot-on recreation. And since it’s for Halloween, no one seems bothered by it. Not to mention his female illusion is on-point, only compromised when he opens his mouth to speak.

  “Are you sure you’re only giving the little monsters two pieces each?” he asks with pursed lips, showcasing the signature Marilyn mole he’s painted on his cheek.

  “What answer could I give that won’t land me on the end of one of your glares?” I ask.

  He glares at me anyway. “Two. Your answer should always be two when it comes to this.”

  “Then yes, I’ve been giving out two to each kid.”

  He sees right through my lie. “You’ve been giving out more to costumes you like, haven’t you?” His pointed stare cuts through me. “There’s no way you’ve gone through this much candy if you haven’t, Donnie.”

  I nod with a hesitant smirk. “But in my defense, some of them have been so stinking cute.”

  He rolls his eyes. “From this point on, two pieces each, got it? Or we’re going to run out early. And then I’ll sic those angry little rug rats on your flat behind.”

  “Hey, it’s not flat,” I say, glancing back at it. “I do squats.”

  “Do more,” he says in a dead pan tone.

  I send him a half-assed salute. “Yes, sir.”

  I’m glad to see him in better spirits after what happened with Deputy Owens. When the news broke about them finding the deputy’s body in Lake Wilson, I hadn’t had a chance to talk to Marcus. I was told I couldn’t discuss the case since they were still looking through all the evidence, so he had no context of what really happened. It broke his heart.

  Once it was all out there, it crushed Marcus even more. Mainly because he found out I’d been put through so much. He felt guilty for being so blind to the whole situation. Eventually, he chalked it up to him always attracting the crazies. We laughed about it in that moment, but I could tell he was still torn up over it, and so was I. Just like Marcus, I was tricked by the façade Deputy Owens put forth. I felt for Marcus for sure, but I think in some strange way this brought us closer.

  I watch him return to the back room, thankful to still have him in my life.

  “Trick or treat,” a male’s voice says behind me.

  I turn around. Connor’s standing there with a grin firmly planted on his face. His green eyes shimmer bright, like always. He’s another person I’m glad is still in my life.

  Oh, and we had our first kiss at the hospital. It wasn’t exactly the most romantic of settings, but it didn’t matter. The whole world melts away regardless when our lips meet.

  Kissing him is my new favorite thing.

  “Hey, you,” I say. “I thought you were going to pick me up at home later to go over to Drea’s.”

  He grumbles and extends his hand. “Trick or treat,” he repeats, and somehow his grin grows wider.

  Marcus pokes his head out from the back room. “Two. Pieces.” His eyes slim at me before moving his focus to Connor. Then they relax. “Hey, Connor.”

  Connor shoots him a head nod. “Hey, Marcus. Or should I say, Miss Monroe?”

  “Miz Markie Marc will do just fine, thank you,” Marcus says with a little sass.

  Connor chuckles while moving his attention back to me. Then they hone in on the candy cauldron. He clears his throat. I roll my eyes and withdraw two pieces to place on his outstretched palm.

  I look over at Marcus and he mouths, “That’s right,” before he disappears again.

  Connor’s staring at me, all grins, when I turn back to face him. His lips are just begging to be kissed. I scan the area for any onlookers and the coast is clear.

  “My turn,” I say, and then lean in to plant a kiss on his lips.

  A surprised expression shows on his face. “You always keep me on my toes, Donovan. And I think I like it,” he says.

  “You think you like it, huh?”

  “I guess I’ll need another sample, just to be absolutely sure,” he says before planting a firmer kiss on my lips. “All right, I’m convinced. I like it.”

  His gentle laugh near my mouth causes my heart to flutter, and I lose track of everything around me. I become hot under the collar, and by the look in his eyes, he’s feeling it too. I decide to put some space between us and slink back behind the counter even though that’s literally the last thing I want right now.

  The door chimes and more kids enter the café. “Trick or treat,” their voices ring out fr
om behind Connor. He chuckles to himself and side steps to allow them to approach the counter.

  I drop two candies into each bag and have to fight myself not to put more into the bag of a kid dressed as an adorable lion. Marcus’s voice enters my head in full force.

  Two pieces of candy only, Donnie!

  Once the group leaves, my eyes find Connor again. It isn’t that difficult since he’s hard not to see. The door chime annoyingly pulls my attention away from him again. My replacement for the rest of the candy shift enters.

  “Hey, Marcus, I’m heading out. Blaire’s here,” I shout back to him.

  He peeks around the corner. “All right, mister,” he replies with a mischievous grin. “You two stay out of trouble now. Or you know what? Screw it. It’s Halloween. Do whatever you want.”

  His laugh is contagious, and I find myself joining in. I hand off the orange and black striped apron to Blaire and make my way over to Connor. His eyes are welcoming at first, but then flash with a sense of seriousness. He extends his hand out for mine and pulls me closer when I grab hold. His intense stare causes a hint of worry to spring up within me.

  “What’s up?”

  “There’s something I want to take care of before we head over to Drea’s. Is that okay?” he asks.

  “Yeah, sure. I’ll just head home and you can pick me up after,” I reply, but am still left with concern over the look in his eyes.

  He sighs. “Actually, I’d like you to be there, if you don’t mind.”

  “Okay. If you want me there, of course I want to be there too.”

  A smile softens his face. “Great. Want to head out then?”

  I nod and he leads me outside to his truck parked on the road. He props open the passenger side door and waits for me to get in. He rounds to the other side and settles into the driver’s seat.

  “Do I get any hints about what we’re doing?” I inquire as my mind races with possibilities.

  “Uh-uh. It’s a surprise,” he says with that signature grin of his.

  Look, I’m not saying I don’t like surprises, but after what we just went through, I’d rather not have too many more for the time being.