Weekend - By Christopher Pike Page 0,58

of shells and reloaded his two spent bullets. From his pocket he drew a switchblade - Sol's eyes widening - and pressed a tiny button, bringing a deadly point into readiness. He turned to Robin and waited.

"You watched me drink it?" Robin asked finally, lost in waves of emotion she had never felt before, never knew existed, in herself or in her friends.

"Yes."

Robin shuddered. "But how? How could you have just sat there and watched me swallow that terrible stuff?"

"I was afraid." There was no life left in Kerry. She was forsaken, she knew. She was dead.

"But I drank all of it, every drop of it," Robin shook her head, clenching her fingers. "And you just sat there... and didn't stop me." She screamed at Michael. "Why did you make me know this? I didn't want to know!"

"I did," he said, setting aside his rifle, to where Sol and Park could have grabbed it if they were quick.

Yet neither moved. Michael ran a finger up the switchblade, pausing at the tip. Sighing, he got up and knelt beside Kerry on the floor. He was no longer crazy. He looked completely sane, very sad. He asked, "Did you tamper with the dialysis machine?"

Kerry nodded. "I took out the cellophane membrane. It's in my closet."

"Did you want to make Lena look bad, look like she was hurting her sister?"

"Yes. I was going to put it back tonight. I really was."

"You know, I believed you when you said the poisoning was an accident. But this... this purposely hurting Robin, I can't understand that."

"I hate Lena," Kerry whispered.

Michael nodded. "And you can't say how much. I haven't forgotten."

"She took Sol away. He was mine and she just took him. Whatever she wants, she takes. She doesn't care."

Michael put the knife to Kerry's throat, and scratched her slightly. Kerry flinched only slightly. He looked at Robin. "Well?"

"Are you going to kill her?" Robin asked.

"If you want me to."

"Do it!" Lena said.

"It's Robin's decision," Michael said.

Robin was unrecognisable. Malice in Lena or Kerry was natural. In Robin, it was horrifying.

"No, Robin," Park said. "Tell him no."

Robin exploded. "But she deserves death! She ruined my life! What have I left? Nothing!"

"You have me, if you want me," Park pleaded. "That's what I was going to tell you."

"But what am I?" she cried. "I'm half human! I need a machine to keep me alive. Every day for the rest of my life, I have to sit with needles and tubes in me to clean my dirty blood. And I hurt all the time. I'm in constant pain. I can't run. I can't dance. I can't swim. I can't eat what I want. I can't do anything! And I'm dying." She began to cry. "I don't want to die."

"Neither do I," Kerry whispered.

Michael had handled a knife before. His hand waited, motionless, narrowing the night to the blade's razor edge. With a word, Robin could pull them all - for a vengeful decision would leave none unscarred into the nightmare her life had become. Michael was subtle and crafty, yet he had not known Robin long, and could not know that this was not the real Robin being given an opportunity to decide. In the confusion, in the plots within plots, he had lost her, and she'd become a frightened child who'd forgotten who she was. Shani recalled the old man, the calm, even perspective she had felt in his presence. Robin knew him well. Surely he had touched her a similar way.

Robin bowed her head. "I don't know what to do."

All was quiet. Even the snake had gone away.

"Sing," Shani said.

Robin raised her head. "What did you say?"

Shani sat beside her on the bed. Even as Robin took her hand, she knew the nightmare was over. "I want to hear you sing."

"I wouldn't mind some music," Bert said.

Robin began to dry her eyes, her once bright green eyes, now dimmed because of her illness. Looking into them, Shani had a second sensation of deja vu. And at last, she began to understand, seeing Michael in his true light. He lowered his knife, smiled back. His eyes were identical to Robin's.

"You read my story," Robin said.

Shani nodded. "I liked the ending. Can we have the same one?"

"Sure." Robin hugged her. The room breathed again. Park and Sol shook hands. Bert clapped. Robin laughed. "But my throat's too sore to sing," she said. "Michael, put away that knife and give me the cassette player. You're so mean and smart, but