“No, stay there,” he said. “And get their guns before they wake up.”
Oh. That was a good idea. He was good at this. I knelt down next to the first guy, the one lying out the door. I took the gun out of his hand and threw it further into the room, out of his reach.
Then I went to the other guy. He wasn’t holding his gun, so I had to pat him down, which was really weird, because he wasn’t moving at all, and I didn’t like it. He felt dead. I knew he wasn’t, but he felt like he was.
Eventually, I found his gun. I threw it out of his reach too.
Griffin came in the front door. He kicked the first guy inside, and he shut the door after himself. “Stay here and cover these guys,” he said.
I nodded.
“Beth,” he bellowed, hurrying into the apartment.
I glanced after him.
And one of the guys woke up. I didn’t see him until it was too late. He was on his feet before I could bring my gun around.
He grabbed my wrist, twisting, forcing me to drop the weapon.
I cried out.
He shoved his hand over my mouth.
I flailed, trying to hit him, to hurt him.
He laughed. I was no match for him. He took me by the throat. He made a quick motion. I heard a snapping noise.
Everything went dark.
* * *
When I opened my eyes, all I could hear was the baby, still screaming. The guy who’d shot Griffin in the leg was standing over the body of the man who’d broken my neck. That man was dead. His head was practically severed from his body. He lay in a pool of crimson liquid on the carpet.
The other guy had his hands up, a knife dripping blood dangling from one. “Just wait a second, Griffin.”
Griffin was behind him with a gun against the back of his head.
“Look, I took care of Finn down there, see?” said the guy. “I saved the girl.”
“Shut up, Knox,” said Griffin, his voice tight.
“Finn’s the one who did Beth. I didn’t want to do it. Every day since she’s been gone, I’ve thought about her. I tried to stop him, but I couldn’t.”
“I said shut up.”
“Why do you think I only shot you in the leg, man?”
Griffin pulled the trigger.
The left side of Knox’s head caved in. Blood spattered onto Griffin’s face.
Knox crumpled to the ground.
Griffin wiped his face with the back of his hand. He grinned—baring his teeth like a wild animal. “I think I might let him heal so that I can kill him again.”
I got to my feet. “Griffin?”
He didn’t look at me. He nudged Knox’s body with his toe. He laughed, a high, hysterical sound.
I made my way out of the living room, into the kitchen. It looked undisturbed. I went further back the hall. I hadn’t been this far into the place before. I opened the first door I came to.
A bathroom. Blue tile. A mirror over the sink. A rubber ducky sitting on the lip of the tub. Plush blue mats in front of the toilet and the shower.
I went to the next room.
She was lying on the bed, face down. Her neck was bloody, her head tugged away from her motionless body.
Beth.
She was dead.
And the baby was still in her crib. Looking at it.
I swept Dixie up into my arms and hurried from the room, making soothing noises.
* * *
I stayed in the kitchen with the baby. It was the only place that there wasn’t any blood besides the bathroom. I had to change her diaper on the table, but I didn’t figure anybody was going to be eating off of it any time soon.
Griffin was in the living room. He had Knox tied up and gagged. Routinely, Knox woke up. Griffin “killed” him again.
It was sick, and I told him so.
Griffin wasn’t listening to me.
“We have to do something about Dixie,” I said.
He wandered into the kitchen. “Like what?”
“I don’t know. But she’s lost her mother, and somebody’s got to take care of her.”
Griffin knocked over the chairs. “Fuck.”