Genius

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-One

Bad Cop Good Cop and Sad Cop.

    I'm going to die. Eventually. I'd give it ten to fifteen minutes. It's two days before Alice's funeral, three weeks after me and Susan's talk (and hugging session [and eventual funeral planning session]). And approximately twenty minutes since I was roughly shoved into a car on my way back from the mailbox.

    There is a gun at my temple.

    "Driving with one hand is dangerous." Death is nothing new to me, so I don't beg. Instead, I risk a glance out of the corner of my eye at the driver. I can't say that I'm surprised.

    "Shut up." Miranda Glaus hisses, taking her eyes off the road for just a second to glare at me, "Filthy murderer."

    "Well that's true now, but I've been absolved 'in light of new evidence' anyways and you want revenge that the law can't give you. Do you think killing me really be worth it? You'd be imprisoned, for life most likely. And I doubt Maria would approve." I can see her grip tightening on both the handle of the gun and the wheel.

    "Don't talk about Maria."

    "Okay, let's talk about you and your new career in homicide: do you have a list? A style? Any methods of disposal? Are you going to attempt to get away with it or are you going to turn yourself in?"

    "I don't need a list, it'll just be you. And then I'm done." She snarls, sort of like a rabid animal, I feel bad for her but I don't particularly want to get bitten.

    "Every killer has a list of the people they've hurt, caused the death of, or killed. Even if it's only one person long. Would you like to hear mine?" My least favorite list, ranking first on my list of least favorite lists. The victim list.

    "No."

    "I remember your sister very well, I remember just about everything, she's on the list too. Are you sure you don't want to hear it?"

She jerks her head, telling me to recite the list and be done with it (at least I think that's what it means). She wants closure, I suppose, and she's been waiting years for it just to have it ripped away. I think back to my conversation with Susan when she started her intent to have a funeral for Alice: 'I just need closure' she had said. Miranda needs that same thing and, like Susan, she feels she can get it from putting me in the ground.

    "I'll start with my most recent victim: Brandon's mother, Amelia Clark. Alice Helnick. Kevin Clark. Isa Cardona. Amanda Giovanni. Casey Arnolds. Jennifer Thompson. Susan Thompson. Wilma Raine. Helen Derricks. Shelly Helnick. Terri Young. Yvonne Walker. Fiona Writes. Grace Zheng. Maria Glaus. Savannah Bakers. Teresa Gonzales. Veronica Slovaka. Diana Hunt. Do you want to know who my first victim was, the first person I killed?" Twenty-two in total, twenty-two lives I have ruined.

    "Spit it out."

    "It was me." She remains silent for a few moments before I speak again, "There are two types of people. People who take and people who lose. You and I lose. You lost your sister and I lost little pieces of myself with every person I hurt. People like Alice take, she gained something with every throat she slit, with every murder she planned. She took your sister, and she took my humanity. And I let her, I even helped. I killed me.

So, as someone else who loses, you must know that killing me will kill you, too. Are you willing to die for your revenge? Watch out for the deer."

I point at the nonexistent animal in the street and snatch the gun as she swerves to avoid it, coming to a stop off of the road. Then I point the gun at her, I promise to myself that, no matter what, I won't pull the trigger. I won't do that again.