It Takes a Killer (9 page)

“I’m still coming to terms with it,” Hannah said.  She shuffled the pocketknife out of her sleeve quickly and drew her hand towards Martin’s throat.

Martin caught Hannah’s wrist without blinking, the knife an inch away from her throat.  Their hands shook in the struggle for power, neither of them giving up but also not trying as much as they could to win.  “You like blood, so I thought you might bring a knife.”  She pushed Hannah’s arm away and in her surprise Hannah stumbled backwards.  How could Martin have seen that coming?

“I went through all this, too,” Martin said.  “After I shot a woman on duty.  She was a drug dealer.  Do you remember hearing about that?”

“When you first joined the force in the city,” Hannah confirmed.  It was the talk of the town for one day, but Hannah hadn’t given it much thought since it happened so far away.  Even when Martin came back to Garnet’s Lake she’d barely noticed; what did she care about some girl that had chosen to leave town?

The knife was still in Hannah’s hand, and while it was small she had thought it would at least make Martin hesitate.  But like the gun in the alley had no affect on Hannah, the knife had no affect on Martin.

“Everyone said it was for the better in the big city,” Martin went on.  She stepped towards the pews and set her hand on the wood, gazing towards Mariana.  “The world was better off without that woman.  But I couldn’t shake this—this chill I got whenever I thought of it.  I thought it was fear.”

Hannah ground her teeth, understanding too well.

Martin looked up at her with a gentle smile.  “But I learned it wasn’t fear at all.  Coming here made me realize that.”

“You’re not from Garnet’s Lake,” Hannah said.  A surge of adrenaline rushed through Hannah’s system knowing that.  An outsider had never bothered her so much in her life.

“No, I’m not.  I was born here but then my parents moved to the city, and came back as a teen.  I left again thinking the city was where I belonged.”  Martin tilted her head slightly in confusion, unaware of what Hannah was truly thinking.  Unaware of the rage that bubbled beneath Hannah’s pristine surface.

Hannah dropped her knife.  It fell against the carpet silently as she kept her eyes on Martin.  To her left she saw Mariana begin to stir, but Martin didn’t seem to notice.  Hannah said, “So you killed Bart because he hurt me, and you killed Dane because he what?  Liked me?”

“Because he was trying to use you,” Martin said.  Her voice cracked as she spoke, emotion taking over.   That was something she and Hannah didn’t have in common.  She stepped towards Hannah.  “He wasn’t right for you and you know it.”

Hannah shook her head and looked away.  “No, he wasn’t.”

“I can show you a better life,” Martin whispered.  “A life that you can do whatever you want with.  We can be friends—
real
friends.  I understand you.”

Hannah wet her lips.  “How?”

“We can leave tonight,” Martin suggested, her smile growing.  “We can go to the city, or leave the country—anywhere in the world.  Somewhere the people don’t know our names.”  She was nodding too much, too eager to start a new life.  Blinded by the possibilities.

And while Hannah had been tempted to take Martin’s offer at first, she no longer was.  “Leave Garnet’s Lake?”

Martin nodded, her grin so wide Hannah finally understood what it meant to smile ear to ear.  “This town is too small for us.”

Hannah’s nose twitched, emotion finally falling over her.  While she didn’t like that she could be controlled by her emotions so easily, she really didn’t care at the moment. 

Mariana stirred again, a groan coming from her lips this time.  Martin looked towards her.  “We just have to settle one thing before we leave.”

“I won’t let you hurt Mariana,” Hannah replied quietly.  “But you’re right, this town is too small for us.”  She paused and checked her watch; it had stopped.  She mumbled, “
My
town.”

Martin turned, her brow furrowed.  She looked like a puppy that Hannah had just kicked, and it pissed off Hannah to no end.  Hannah jumped forward and grabbed onto Martin’s hair and shoulder, pulling her away from Mariana.  Martin grabbed onto Hannah’s jacket and they stumbled backwards in a fit of screams, each of them pulling at whatever they could on the other.  Blood wet Hannah’s fingers as she ripped Martin’s hair out, her own black jacket ripped beneath Martin’s long nails.  They twisted and turned until they came to the ledge at the back of the church and Hannah’s heel was the first to hit it, sending her onto her back.  A hand clasped around her throat, and she suddenly felt very foolish for thinking she could take on Martin, a trained police officer.  Still, she let Martin think she’d won.

“I really wanted us to get along,” Martin said.  “But there’s plenty more people like us out there—I can find someone else.  After all, someone found me, and I found you.”  She pressed her other hand around Hannah’s throat and began to squeeze.

Hannah’s vision was already starry from the fight, but now the edges began to turn black.  Her lungs felt tight, her mouth open but unable to take in any air.  Her eyelids fluttered closed.  Just as she began to lose consciousness something wet hit her face, and the pressure on her neck disappeared.  Hannah opened her eyes in time to see Martin fall to the ground, the thud echoing through the church.  A figure stood before Hannah.

“Ma—” Hannah croaked.  She rolled onto her side coughing, choking on her own words.  When she covered her mouth she felt what was coating her face, and her hand came away red with blood.  She looked over her shoulder at Martin, face down on the church carpet and blood quickly pooling around her.  Between them stood Mariana, chest heaving and Hannah’s pocketknife in hand.

“Mariana,” Hannah said quietly.  Too quiet—Mariana didn’t react, her eyes on Martin.  Hannah couldn’t speak up any louder, so she stood.  She stepped over to Mariana, knees shaky but holding.  They each watched as the blood seeped into the carpet and a siren rang in the distance.

“I called 911,” Mariana said.  “While you were…”

Hannah nodded once.

“She kidnapped me.”  Mariana’s voice cracked.  “She was going to kill you; I had to do it.”

The knife fell once more to the ground as Mariana let out a sob.  She turned to Hannah and buried her face into Hannah’s shoulder.  Hannah wrapped an arm around her friend, listening as the siren outside got closer and closer.

“I know,” she cooed, stroking Mariana’s hair.  Her eyes stayed on the still body before her.  “I know.”

Even as she went through the motions of comforting her friend and then explaining what Martin had done to the police—as the town learned of what had happened the next day, and the flowers and notes of condolences came flooding in to her and Mariana—as the town forgave her for what she had done weeks earlier, and now wanted to help her, Hannah could only think of one thing.

She had finally found her reason to start going to church again.

Every human has the basic instinct to survive.  Many consider this the “fight or flight” response, in which when danger is around, you either fight it or run the hell away.  Personally I’m a flier, and any person that gives me the wrong vibe I stay away from.  My friends and family always say I’m paranoid, but I trust my gut instinct.

So trust
your
instinct; it’s there for a reason.

Natalia Hale is a journalism graduate with very little interest in writing news articles of any kind.  A reader of the mysterious and morbid, she decided that it was time to start her publishing journey in 2015 with her novella
It Takes a Killer
.  Focusing on short fiction, her stories delve into the disturbing tales that toe the line between acceptable to read in public and "if this is what you think about maybe you should talk to someone" (semi-joking advice from a friend).  She is not as dark a person as her writing, but tends to get lost in existential thoughts.

Website:
www.nataliahale.wordpress.com

Facebook:
www.facebook.com/nataliahalebooks

Twitter:
@hale_natalia