It was February twenty-ninth again.
Over the next 24 hours, one of my family members would try to kill me. After six leap years, there weren’t many of us left. I had made all the proper preparations. The alarms were all set, ready to blare out their warnings the second someone stepped onto the property. The secret passageways were all sealed, except for one, but this was a new addition only I knew about. The contractor who installed it had known about it, but he won’t be telling anyone. I made sure of that.
I sat at the bank of screens, watching feeds from two dozen cameras. A pistol was holstered at my side and a shotgun rested on my lap. Though it was just after midnight, the screens were lit up like noon, with floodlights keeping shadows to a minimum. No one was going to set foot on my property without my knowledge.
And it was my property, regardless of what my extended family believed. I earned it twenty-four years ago when I killed my father and claimed the land for my own. It was his fault, really. Grandfather had been very specific about the rules, as stated in the private video will his executer had played for us. No jurisdiction would allow such a will to stand, but our family had no use for the society's regulations. We made our own rules, and had the money to keep the law off our backs.
An alarm sounded at 12:07 A.M. I sat up, checking the location. It was the back gate. I brought it up on the main screen, watching for any movement. The gate was open, swinging in the breeze, but nothing else moved. Since I had locked it myself less than an hour ago, I knew this wasn’t an accident. I checked the feeds from the surrounding area. Nothing else moved.
“Bait?” I asked the screen. It wouldn’t be the first time someone tried to lure me out of the house in the hopes of an easy kill. Gregory had lost that night. He hadn’t expected my decoy or my skill with a sniper rifle. No one had tried such uninspired tactics again in the last sixteen years.
Until now.
I watched the gate swing for a few minutes, wondering who was on the other side of the fence. Laurence, perhaps? He refused to go by Larry, felt it was beneath him. Apparently, his career as a sandwich maker elevated him above such a common name. He seemed like the type to think such a silly tactic as opening a gate was brilliant.
Draw me out and kill me in the yard? Imbecile.
Karen would also resort to such juvenile measures. Not because she was young, but because laziness was her major flaw. The other five I wasn’t so sure about, but I wouldn’t put it past any of them.
Another alarm went off, this one at the front of the house. The cameras there showed another wide-open gate.
“Hmm. Fast one,” I murmured. It was a long way from the back of the property to the front, especially if you had to take the long route outside the high stone wall. I glanced at the family photos displayed on the wall beside me, wondering which one of them could have trained enough to reach it at such speeds. None seemed likely to me, but I had to admit I didn’t know any of them terribly well. My private detectives kept tabs on all of them, but those details showed more about their marital status, working habits, hobbies, and things of that nature. Their personalities were of no interest and may have changed over the years. None of them had gym memberships, or I would have heard about it. But there was nothing to stop them from working out in their own homes.
I turned back to the cameras. A figure moved by the front gate. The person didn’t enter the property, just walked by. Whoever it was went to great lengths to hide their identity. The hood of a plain black sweatshirt blocked their face from view. Black pants and boots completed the outfit. The hands were covered in black gloves. I couldn’t even tell the gender. The person disappeared behind the wall again.
Alarms sounded moments later, this time on the north side of the house. There was no gate there, only the 8-foot wall that surrounded my property. I stared at the camera, a thin finger of fear tracing its way down my spine.
“That can’t be,” I told the screen. The figure had crossed the other way by the gate, from north to south. How could they have crossed back without me seeing? Perhaps they had moved farther back before heading north again.
There was no movement on the north wall cameras. Perhaps whoever was out there had thrown something to distract me. I quickly scanned the rest of the images but saw nothing out of place. I leaned back in my chair, checking the time. 12:32 A.M.. The 29th had barely begun and already I was under attack, seemingly from all sides.
I sat up in my chair again, clutching the shotgun to my chest. All sides? Could all of them really be out there? All seven remaining members of the family?
“Why would they work together?” I asked the cameras. “Only one of them can claim the property.”
Another alarm, this time on the south side.
Again, no movement that I could see.
Moments later, a figure by the back gate stopped in the center of the opening. They turned and faced the house. Another figure appeared by the front gate, repeating the gesture. A third person scaled the fence on the south side, perching on top of the rock wall. A fourth did the same on the north wall. None had actually set foot on the property yet, but it was coming. I knew it.
The question was, which one would it be?
Another thought suddenly hit me. What about the other three? Why had they not been included in this silly plan? Had they not been trusted enough by these four? Or were they out there somewhere as well, hiding in the shadows, waiting for their turn in this game?
The two on the fence dropped down again, out of sight on the far side of the wall. The two at the gates also disappeared behind the wall. I stared at the screens, waiting for them to reappear.
***
Two hours later, there had been no more signs of any of my unwanted visitors. I knew they were trying to confuse and frighten me. Get me worked up so I would panic and make a mistake. It had almost worked for a moment when I saw that there was more than one of them. But they couldn’t all claim the prize, and would turn on each other long before they found me. I was sure of it.
After so long without any action, my eyes began to get heavy, my body sore from sitting in front of the screens. The bed in the corner of my little sanctuary beckoned with its softness and comfort, but I knew lying down was a terrible idea. Especially when I knew four of them were out there. Instead, I stood up, stretching my arms, legs, and back. I took my time, watching the screens as I did it. When the stiffness eased, I stepped over to the table beneath the family photos. A coffee maker sat there, along with a couple of mugs and a sugar bowl, already filled with my favorite blend. All I had to do now is turn it on and wait.
Within a minute, a heavenly scent filled the room.
I was pouring my first cup when the alarms blared again, four at once this time. The noise startled me and I spilled coffee on my hand as I jerked towards the screens. I saw two figures strolling through the front gate. Two more entered at the back. Another two had scaled the south wall, and the last one dropped down on the north side. I wondered if the three new ones had been there the whole time, hiding in the shadows while the other four played their little game. Or had they just shown up?
Not that it mattered either way. What did matter was all seven of my relatives were now here, on my property. They spread out when they reached the house, and I watched as they tested windows and door handles, attempting to enter my home.
After a couple of minutes of knob twisting and window rattling, one of the potential intruders grew bolder. The gloved hand found a rock in the flower bed he was trampling and used it to smash the big picture window in the dining room. Then the devil waved his companion over, helping them through.
The companion wasn’t too careful, though. I smiled as I watched the idiot boldly grab the sill and then suddenly pull back, falling out of the window.
“Hmm, did you get cut? How sad for you.”
The glove was yanked away from the wounded hand. The blood on the palm looked black in the floodlights, and I smiled at the sheer quantity of it.
“Serves you right,” I said. “That window’s going to cost a fortune to replace.”
The wounded one climbed through the window again, favoring their cut hand. Once inside, they grabbed a napkin off my dining room table and wrapped it around the wound. I saw the white fabric darken immediately and cursed them for ruining it. Those had been Grandmother’s and I had kept them in pristine condition until now. The other member of this particular duo stepped through the window, much more carefully than their companion. The two of them stood together, bobbing their heads and making small gestures with their hands. Then they split up, one creeping to the front of the house. The injured one headed to the back, wrapped hand clutched to their chest.
I watched as they opened doors, letting the other members of my family into my house. On another screen, the lone member of the group smashed a hole in my patio doors, reaching through the glass to unlock it. This one crept inside, stepping carefully over the broken glass on the floor, and I cursed whichever family member it was. Another expensive repair was in my future. This was going to be the most costly leap year I’d ever had, especially when considering the renovations I’d made to create my current hiding place.
All seven of them gathered in the main hall. By their nods and gestures, I assumed they were making plans to find me. One of them turned, staring up at the camera. I sat up, disturbed by this. None of them could possibly know the locations of the cameras. Every one had been installed after I’d taken possession of the property. Since I’d done all the work myself, there had been no one else to give out the location of my cameras.
But here was someone, staring right at it, as if he or she wanted me to know they knew it was there.
“You can’t know that!” I yelled at the staring figure.
Their hand slowly lifted, waving back and forth, countering my statement without knowing I had made it. Then the fingers folded in, all but one. The bastard was flipping me off.
One of the other members of the group pushed the hand down, gesturing to the stairs. The bold one nodded. Then the group dispersed, all heading in different directions.
I sat back, the heat of my anger dying away. I helped it along with a smile, knowing that there was little chance they would find me. This room hadn’t existed when Grandfather was alive, and Father hadn’t had the time to make any changes after Grandfather’s will had been read.
I often wonder if the old man had known that he would die on February 29th, had somehow planned the reading of the will on that particular day? Had he known that chaos would follow?
His executor had been present, as had the rest of the family. The moment the old man had been declared dead, he had asked us to join him in Grandfather’s study. There were some protests from the overwrought members, but the man had insisted. When the will was mentioned, family greed took over, and everyone followed him willingly.
When we had all settled in the large room and the door had been locked behind us, the executor had opened Grandfather’s safe and pulled out a folder and a disc. We’d waited impatiently while he slid that most important document out and began to read what was written there.
“Cornelius Garrison has created a video that explains the details of the will. I will confirm the funeral arrangements as you watch it. When it has finished, the paperwork will be signed.” The man peered at us with cold, unfeeling blue eyes, then placed the disc in the laptop on the desk. He turned it towards us, clicked the mouse to play the video, and strode out of the room, closing the door behind him.
Grandfather appeared on the screen, sitting behind the desk before us, his wrinkled hands folded on the blotter.
“If you are watching this, then I am no longer with you. I have lived a long life, a hard life, fighting in three wars, risking my life for my country so my children could be free. But along with that freedom, you have learned complacency and greed. You come to me, one at a time, begging for the money I worked hard to earn over the years so you don’t have to earn your own. I have helped where I can, but no longer will I give you what you haven’t earned. I killed men in the wars I fought, to save myself and my friends so I could come home to my family. But my family has no understanding of what that means: to have to kill in order to stay alive. But now you will, if you want what you feel is yours, to possess the estate you believe you are owed for sharing my genes.
“But there are rules to be followed, just like I had during my service. All I have will be left to Gerald Garrison, my eldest son. The house, the land, the stocks, the money, all now belong to you. No one may take them from you, and you are not to give anything to your undeserving relatives. If you pass away, you may set the new will as you see fit, though I hope you are heeding my words and considering whether or not your family deserves your generosity.
“As for the rest of you, you can obtain the wealth Gerald now possesses if you have the stomach for it. For every four years, on February 29th, you can attempt to take the wealth for yourself. You must kill Gerald to do so, at which point everything he has passes to you. Whoever claims his life will gain the entire estate. No other killings are allowed that day, or any other until the next leap year. This will teach you patience, which is another quality most of you lack.
“The process will continue each and every leap year until this family learns what it means to earn the things you desire in life, or until you’re all dead. If it is the latter, then the world is better off without you.”
We all stared at the screen, even when the video ended and only blackness remained. A few moments later, the door opened and the executor entered. He crossed to the desk, opening the folder and pulling out the paperwork. He held out a pen to Gerald, my father. Gerald stared at the pen in stunned silence, then grasped it in his shaking hand, and signed the papers where the executor indicated. The man handed a copy to Father, took the disc out of the laptop, nodded to us once, and left the room.
“This is insane. We are to kill each other for this? For a house and some money?” Aunt Ether exclaimed.
“Grandfather can’t be serious. This must be a joke,” said Cousin Timothy.
“How can we do this?” cried Uncle Will.
“Obviously, we can’t,” Father said.
That was when I grabbed the silver letter opener off Grandfather’s desk. I had stabbed my father through the heart before he had even realized I’d moved. He’d grabbed at me, clutching my shirt as the blood drained from his body.
“James, no,” he moaned. Then he had slumped to the floor. Everyone stared at me in horror, backing away from the bloody corpse. Some fainted on the floor. A few screamed.
“How could you?” Laurence had gasped.
“It’s February 29th,” was my reply. “Now get out of my house.”
***
That was twenty-four years ago.
I glanced at the screen showing the back of the property. Father’s was the first unmarked grave I had dug there. Six more family members followed, one every four years. There was a seventh grave there as well, dug for the contractor who had built my current sanctuary. Information could be bought and I couldn’t risk certain blueprints falling into the wrong hands.
On the screens, my family roamed throughout the house, searching for me room by room. They opened closet doors, peered behind furniture, even ventured into the dusty attic trying to find where I was hiding.
One of them stopped in the middle of my bedroom, covering one ear with a gloved hand. The figure prowling around the basement did the same. Two others cocked their heads on two different screens as if listening to something.
“What do you hear?” I asked them.
One more alarm went off. Though I had installed it myself, it was one I never expected to hear.
“No!” I cried, spinning around in my chair to face the door of my hidden room. It was locked from the inside, so even if someone had found the hidden passageway, there was no way they could get in.
“But no one knows about this room. No one knows about the passage!” I yelled at the door.
“Someone does,” said a voice behind me.
I swung around in my chair, lifting my shotgun. A masked figure rose from behind the screens. The pistol in their hands gleamed silver as they pointed it at my chest. I fumbled for the trigger, but the pistol fired first. As the bullet rammed its way through my shoulder, I cursed myself for being unprepared at this most critical moment. I had not expected to have to defend myself here and it was going to cost me my life. After more than two decades, I should have known better.
I struggled with the shotgun, trying to lift it up and pull the trigger, but the damage to my shoulder slowed me down. The figure came around the desk and plucked it from my hands. A knee dropped on my chest, pinning me to the floor as my attacker pulled my pistol from its holster at my waist. Taking all three weapons with him, the figure strode over to the door of my sanctuary, unlocking it and swinging it wide open.
“You can’t do this.”
“Yes, I can,” he replied, removing his mask. I recognized the face, though it couldn’t have been him. I’d killed him two years ago, even though it wasn’t a leap year.
“You’re dead,” I moaned.
“Obviously not.”
“You are. I killed you myself.”
“Thank you for admitting it so easily,” said Laurence, stepping into the room.
The other six members of my family filed in after him, all staring down at me with cold contempt in their eyes.
“You’ve broken the rules,” I spat. “You’ve included an outsider. He can’t kill me. Only one of you can. You all forfeit everything.”
“No, cousin, you are the one who broke Grandfather’s rules,” said Kaitlin, stepping forward, a thin smile on her face.
“Never.”
“Such a death can only occur on February 29th,” she replied. “And you just admitted to killing one of us two years ago.”
“I didn’t! He wasn’t one of us!”
“Oh, but he was.” The contractor’s look-alike crouched down before me, his pistol pointed at my face.
“You never met my sons,” said Cousin Justin.
“You have no children. I’d have known. You’re not married or in a relationship of any kind.”
“Don’t have to be. But there was a girl I met on vacation, not long after you slaughtered your own father right in front of us. Long before your investigators began following us. She got pregnant and I convinced her to keep it a secret. I was afraid of what you might do.”
I stared at the young man in front of me, who glared with hard, hate-filled eyes.
“We spent years trying to hatch a plan to find a way into my Great Grandfather’s house,” he said.
“My house!” I screamed, but the lookalike ignored my interruption
“Then you started hunting for a contractor. As luck would have it, my brother worked in that exact profession. He had no legal link to this family, not on paper anyway. He had no family you knew of, either, no one to tell your secrets to. And you left him alone long enough to create this passage into your little cell, tucked away behind your screens. Luckily, he passed all the information on to me so we could plan your death together. He never expected that you would kill him.”
The twin shook his head slowly, eyes brimming with tears for his lost brother. “All we wanted was a chance to take back what you stole all those years ago.”
“I stole nothing.”
“You stole your father’s life,” said Laurence. “Not that you would ever see it that way.”
“It doesn’t matter. You have forfeited everything for killing a member of this family outside of Grandfather’s guidelines,” Justin added, placing a hand on Laurence’s arm. Laurence nodded and turned back to me.
“Then let me leave. If I am truly forfeit, then I will go without a fight.”
The seven of them glanced back and forth at each other before smiling down at the contractor’s twin.
“Would you give any of us the same courtesy?” he asked.
“But Grandfather’s will . . . ”
“Stated nothing about dealing with such an infraction.”
The twin smiled, his white teeth shining in the light of the video screens, and pulled the trigger.