Colleen’s heartbeats thumped double time as she searched along a bank of pittosporum. She was sure the scream had come from nearby. But Kieran and the girl were nowhere in sight. How could she have let them get away?
Then, through the trees and bushes, she heard the girl shout.
“No!” Her voice was slurry. “Let me go!”
Frantic, Colleen pushed her way through the bushes, where tree branches formed a secluded enclosure.
“Gary, stop!”
The girl writhed about on rumpled cardboard and newspapers, her checked pants muddy. Kieran Skinner squatted in front of her, holding her down with one hand. He had a damp rag of some sort. A handkerchief. He pulled her blond hair out of her face with his little finger. Her eyes rolled. She seemed nearly unconscious. He tipped a brown bottle into a wadded section of the rag, soaking up liquid.
He had doped her. And was planning on taking it further.
Colleen reached into her pocket, pulled the .38.
“Stop right there, Kieran.”
Still squatting, Kieran jerked his head around. His mouth dropped when he saw Colleen.
“You!” he shrieked, jumping up. “What are you doing here?”
She brought the gun up as she entered. She couldn’t fire with the girl so close.
“Get up, sweetheart,” Colleen said to her. “Get out of here. Now.”
The child tried to raise herself up but gave a disoriented shriek when she saw the gun.
Colleen lowered the gun to ease the girl’s fears. “I’m here to stop him, not hurt you. You’re safe. But go. Head over by the merry-go-round. Get someone to call the police. The man at the ticket booth.”
Kieran dropped back down, tipping the brown bottle into the handkerchief again, a wild grin breaking out. Colleen brought the gun back up, aimed it directly at him with a shaking arm.
The girl tried to get up but slipped and fell.
“It’s over, Kieran,” Colleen said, readying the gun.
Behind his thick glasses his eyes darted back and forth. His bushy mustache wiggled as he worked his mouth. He moved the handkerchief over the girl’s face.
“No,” he crowed. “I think you better leave, eh? Too much of this will kill her. Yes, it will. And it will be your fault. Your fault! Now just put that down!”
Colleen lowered the gun again but inched forward, heart pounding. Discreetly, she pulled the hammer back with her thumb, the click tightening her nerves.
“Just move back!” Kieran hissed. “Now!”
The child moaned, lolling under the suspended handkerchief. His eyes darted over to her, and Colleen took another step.
His eyes shot back to her.
“Just get back!”
“What are you going to do, Kieran?” she said. “Hurt her and you’re dead. Dead,” she said again. “I’ll make sure.”
His eyes flickered wildly as the tip of his tongue appeared.
Another step. A few feet away now.
Kieran lowered his head and suddenly leapt at her, butting her chin with the top of his head. It knocked her senses loose. Jaw splitting, Colleen tumbled back, onto the ground, bringing the gun up as the wet handkerchief came in at her, covering her mouth. It stunk of some sweet chemical. Kieran’s hand pressed down on her face, his other hand grabbing her throat. He held the handkerchief firmly over her nose and mouth.
“Got you, now, you bitch!”
Her head started to spin.
Colleen breathed what smelled like bleach and sugar before she stopped herself. But her head rang deeply, compounded by Kieran’s head butt.
“Wait until I’m done with you!” he squealed.
The rag was pressed so tight it hurt. Her senses swam.
Concentrate.
She managed to swing her gun arm up. She cracked the side of Kieran’s head. He yelped and the gun tumbled out of her hand. Kieran grunted, falling away. Colleen’s ears shimmered. Her vision shook. She brushed the handkerchief off her face and climbed up, stumbling.
The bottle and handkerchief lay on the ground, moving around with her blurred vision.
Kieran lunged in with both hands, grabbed her throat before she could react. Colleen clutched onto his wrists and pulled. He locked onto her.
Focus. Don’t weaken.
He squeezed. Something in her throat felt as if it snapped. Panic seized her. She choked and fought. He was driven by some insane, powerful fury. The same fury that he had directed at Margaret.
Their eyes met. His watch cap was twisted halfway off. Wild frizzy hair stuck out. His pupils were tight and black behind thick glasses, staring directly into her eyes. She saw his latent rage rising like a tide.
“I’m going to enjoy this,” he whispered. He gave a weak smile, curling up the corners of his mouth. “I’m going to enjoy you.”
That day came back to her in a jarring flash, the day she killed her ex, buried a screwdriver deep into in his neck after she came home and found her daughter crouching in the corner upstairs, half naked.
That anger had never really left her.
Maybe she and Kieran had that in common.
She sucked in what strength she had left and brought a knee up into Kieran’s groin, savored the solid connection it made as his eyes rolled back in his head. He gulped air as he released his grasp on her throat and fell down to the ground, rolling into a fetal position, grabbing between his legs.
“You fucking bitch!”
Colleen scrambled, flew at him, her head swirling, kicking him, kicking him again, on top of him now, holding his collar with her left fist, punching. Over and over. Her head was swimming.
And then he was still, hat gone, eyes shut, face bloody, glasses gone. She stopped, gasping. She wondered for one horrific moment if she had killed him.
And then he started wheezing, blood spluttering from the corner of his mouth.