electrical tape and threw the pink sock on the floor. I didn’t have time to fantasize about sticking it back in Tiara’s mouth after a slight detour through the toilet bowl.
I didn’t know who’d been the one to pick up a gun, but I made a guess that Tiara had the best chance at knowing where to find one.
I ran back to the long concrete building.
But then I realized that there was really no reason for me to go in there.
I could leave. I could run through the parking lot and up the driveway, and find some way over the gate. There were plenty of trees; I could climb up and jump right over. Better a pair of broken legs than a slowboat tour of Pouchon’s digestive tract.
Cadance and Tiara weren’t anywhere near innocent.
But Pouchon’s story didn’t just involve them. There was Julia, and Sayra, and the other three girls who’d thought “post it on YouTube? why not?”
I pulled on the door handle. The door was locked. I didn’t have an access card.
I ran back towards the house. I’d call the cops. Then I’d find a way over that gate and I’d pray to god that the next person I ran into wouldn’t enjoy the taste of earlobe or be named after My Little Pony.
“Turn your arse around.”
I stopped. “I will only turn around if you stop with the ‘arses’, Tiara.”
“I’ll just shoot you, then?”
I turned around. She was holding a shotgun. I was no expert, but I knew it was easy enough to kill someone with one of those.
“You must have known I’d be coming back for you,” she said. “I left you with the scissors.”
“Are you going to shoot me?”
“Come inside.”
“The house?”
“The stables. You really are dead from the neck up.”
“I hate you.” It probably wasn’t the smartest thing to say to a woman with a gun.
She marched me back to the metal door, staying a good ten feet behind me.
“Pick it up and swipe in,” she said.
“Pick what up?”
“Look behind you.”
I looked and saw the access card on the ground a few inches behind me.
“Do it slowly,” she said.
“You really think I’m going to try and jump you?”
“Just do it.”
I knelt down slowly and picked up the card. I swiped it and opened the door.
“Don’t kill me,” I said as I slowly stepped through the doorframe.
And then I slammed the door behind me.
“Dammit!” she cried through the closed door. “Now I am definitely going to kill you.”
“But I’m in here and you’re out there.”
“I have a spare access card at the house. Idiot.”
“Better hurry,” I said. “Before the zombies get loose.”
I ran over to the lab, not sure who’d I find strapped to the table. I swiped the card and pulled open the door.
“Did you find her?” Cadance said as she turned around.
I punched her in the mouth. I’ve always loved the classics.
Pouchon was tied on the table. He didn’t look like he’d been shot, but there was blood pouring from the left side of his head. Someone had taken his ear.
“Untie me, Amanda,” he said. “These girls are insane.”
“Yeah, right.” I punched Cadance again.
“Stop hitting me,” she said.
“Then sit down on the floor. Hands on your head or something.”
She sat down and clamped her hands behind her head. “Where’s Tiara?” she asked. “Did you hurt her?”
“That depends... how many ears did she have when you last saw her?”
“You’re an asshole.”
"Listen Cadance... you need to tell me where there's a phone."
"There used to be one in the lab here," she said. "But my father took it out because it was a separate line from the house phone and the phone company's just started raping everyone who still has a landline."
"I don’t care. Where is there a phone now?"
"I told you. At the house."
"And I'll bet your cellphone's at the house, too?"
She nodded. "It's charging."
"Okay... we need to talk this out. What will it take for all three of us to walk out of here?"
"You want to let him go?"
"No. He can wait here for the cops. I meant you, me, and Tiara."
"No cops."
"Whatever. I don't care. I just need to know that Tiara won't shoot me."
"Yeah... I'm pretty sure she's going to shoot you. I mean... you know too much, obviously."
"Well that's just stupid," I said. "So now I'm going to have to kill her."
"Let's kill her together," Pouchon said. "Untie me and we can set up some kind of ambush. Like old times."
I laughed.
It didn't take me long to realize that Pouchon had the right idea.
When