THE DOORKNOB TURNED AND PJ eased the door open a crack. What she saw was nearly enough to stop her heart.
There was a young boy tied to a chair, his mouth covered with duct tape, blood on his cheek and nose. Brian.
He turned in her direction and she was afraid the boy would give her away, but his eyes were wide, vacant with fear.
Hoping the door wouldn’t squeak, PJ pushed in a little further. There was the girl, Amelia, tied and taped. A scratch on her arm bled freely. Tears ran down her face. Her eyes were very aware, and locked on something low in front of her.
There was an odd singsong voice in the room, like a tape of children’s songs.
The fear that permeated the room washed over her and left an unclean feeling behind. Unclean or evil. There was a large mirror set low on the opposite wall, at the height a child would need to get a full-body view. Reflected in it PJ saw April, and it was a horrifying sight.
April was sitting on the floor, a teddy bear in her lap. She was rocking back and forth, and with each forward motion, she plunged a knife into the teddy bear.
Amelia whimpered, and that made PJ realize what her heart had already decided: she was going into that room to put a stop to whatever deranged plan April had. The only things left to decide, where when, and how.
Dizziness struck again, and PJ leaned against the wall until it passed.
The door was open about an inch. The girl’s eyes pulled away from watching April stab her teddy bear and suddenly spotted PJ. Amelia stiffened and stared. PJ quickly put a finger to her lips and made sure Amelia could see it through the narrow opening of the door. The girl caught on immediately, and shifted her eyes away from the door. She whined louder and rocked her chair onto its back legs and then let it thud down on the floor. She was drawing April’s attention to her.
“Stop that, girl,” April said, not taking a break from stabbing the bear. “Wouldn’t want to wake your mommy, would we? That’ll come later. I’ve got her this time. ‘Woman goes berserk, kills own children.’ Too bad you kids won’t be around to see your pictures in the paper.”
May’s still alive, then.
April dropped the bear and stood up with the knife. Amelia started to thrash around in her chair.
PJ pulled the screwdriver from her waistband. It was time to make a stand for the kids. She pushed hard on the door, sending it crashing into the wall, and charged into the room, moving as fast as she could, leaning on the broomstick. Startled, April turned in her direction, but PJ was already on her, slamming into her bodily, slashing with the screwdriver at April’s eyes. The screwdriver raked across April’s face and across one eye. April screamed. Knocked off balance, she still managed to grab PJ, so they both fell to the floor. Grappling with each other on the floor, April kicked PJ’s ankle, then did it again. Blackness edged PJ’s vision, and the room began to swirl and fade. She was sinking into unconsciousness.
If she blacked out now, she was signing her death warrant and perhaps three others. She fought back the pain and the encroaching blackness. PJ still held the screwdriver, and she plunged it upward blindly, hoping to hit a belly or chest. She didn’t make contact with flesh. April had rolled away, but was coming back on hands and knees. The side of April’s face was bloodied, one eye bulging and torn. PJ’s first jab had done its work.
Fighting the urge to close her eyes and give up, PJ lashed out with the broomstick and was rewarded with a solid crack on April’s arm. April backed up out of reach of the broomstick. Then she did what PJ was desperately hoping she wouldn’t. April turned her back on the adult attacker and went for the girl, knife ready to flick away a life.
PJ straightened out her body as well as she could, tucked the stick in close, and rolled, spinning on an axis from head to toe. As soon as she was close enough, she uncoiled and used all of her strength to swing the stick into April’s back. Howling, April fell forward. The broomstick broke with a resounding crack, leaving PJ with a short, sharply pointed wooden stake. She stabbed it into April’s calf, deeply penetrating the muscle. April screamed and scrambled away. When she got near the door, April pulled herself up on it and limped out to the hall, leaning on the wall as much as she could.
PJ reassured herself that the children were okay, if frightened, and then crawled over to the door. April could return, and with a gun. All PJ had left was the screwdriver, and she didn’t think she could throw it with any accuracy. She was near the bottom of her reserves of strength, but knew she had to hold on.
April was at the top of the stairs. The woman gave her a look of wild, venomous hatred, pulled the stake out of her leg, and threw it at PJ. Then April started down the stairs, clinging to the rail for support.
A scream, a horrible scream, the sound of the hammer bouncing from step to step, the sound of someone tumbling, followed by a sickening crack.
By the time PJ got to the top of the stairs, April was twisted and broken at the bottom of the stairs, but alive. The hammer lay next to her. April’s feet must have tangled with the hammer PJ had dropped, causing both person and tool to roll down the steps.
April’s uninjured eye locked on PJ and pleaded mutely for help. PJ bumped carefully down the stairs, then was past the urge of wanting to move at all once she reached the bottom. If she was going anywhere else, it would be on a stretcher. She noticed that her cellphone had fallen out of April’s pocket and was lying near the woman’s head. Cautiously, she reached for the phone, nearly blacking out as she stretched to pick it up. April, unable to move, couldn’t stop her.
She opened her phone to call 911. Then she closed it, deciding that there was no rush. PJ sat there on the steps and watched April’s life slowly slip away.