C H A P T E R  1 7 :

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"And I dragged her body from the car down to the water." A younger Billy proclaimed. He was still new, still fresh, still innocent—but his new friends didn't have to know that. "That was the first time I realized how heavy bodies are when they're dead. I ah, floated her out to the water to just barely where—where I could stand, and ... I stood on her for a good hour." He looked to the four faces that sat in a circle on old furniture. Emily and her boyfriend smiled, the guy named Emmett nodded with approval and Maggie gazed at him in awe. "I wanted to make sure her body was completely weighted with water, her prom dress made it easier. Then, well, I drove home."

Billy thought back to that night as he stood in the damp basement contemplating the situation before him. Emmett was stooped down beside Megan, who looked worst than the night before. Her makeup now painted not only her eyes, and she stank of filth and blood and human waste.

"How are you doing? You sleep well last night?" Asked Emmett as his fingers played with the corner lip of the grey tape that smothered her mouth. She didn't move, she sat stiff, her eyes flickering only once or twice.

"What are we gonna do, Em? You really screwed up here."

"I think we've all made mistakes, Billy." Emmett looked up to him. "Mistakes are important. It's how we learn."

"But you have gone off the deep end." He gestured to the girl. It wasn't part of the plan. None of this was part of the plan.

"That is an understatement," Maggie's voice came from the shadow of the doorway.

Emmett rolled his eyes, "Megan, you remember Maggie. Look, she's not very friendly. Don't take it personally, alright?"

Maggie's accusatory tone and face turned to Billy, "I thought you were going to deal with this."

"That's funny." Emmett said in amusement. "When has he ever dealt with anything?"

It was a childish way to taunt Billy, to make things even harder than they were for him. "Will you stop it?" He said, pushing himself from the wall.

Ignoring the banter going on between the two men she currently would rather kill, Maggie stepped closer eyeing the girl who could be younger than herself. "Who is she? Where did she come from?"

Emmett turned his attention away from Megan, his hands wouldn't stay off her, he hoped it was driving Billy mad. "We met in a little grocery store one town over."

"You fool! This is going to get us caught."

He shrugged. "Girls go missing all the time."

"Was there a surveillance camera in the store?" Maggie folded her arms. "No. You didn't think about that. You will be identified. It's a matter of time." Her foot tapped on the dirt floor.

"We're wanted in fifty states, Maggie. Who cares? They won't find this farm. We're in the middle of nowhere. Kate told us this was a safe place." He turned back to Megan, "We wouldn't want Kate knowing her little favorite friend lacks trust, would we?"

As he was starting to tread in sensitive territory, Billy blurted out something—anything to settle this unease that was building. "Maggie's right, this is not cool."

She pulled her arms from their tight fold and clapped slow and mockingly. "Wow, Billy. Thanks for pointing out an uncool situation. That helps."

Emmett snickered. "Told you."

Defeated, Billy slumped back against the wall listening to Maggie go on. "First things first. We can't have Logan see her, so get rid of her. Kill her and bury her out behind that stable or barn, whatever the hell it is."

"Sure." Emmett gave little thought and carelessly agreed. "Alright. Sounds like a plan." He got up, his hand reaching into front pocket pulling out a switchblade that flipped out with a jerk motion of his hand. "Billy," he forced the blade into his hands, "you kill Megan and I'll make breakfast. I'm thinking pancakes. Megan, do you like pancakes? Oh, wait - sorry, you'll be dead."

Logan called out for Maggie from upstairs. They could all hear his feet moving across the old floor. She cursed before heading towards the door, "Damn it. Just do it."

Billy looked down to the switchblade that glinted in the low light. It felt warmed by Emmett's hand and now grew hot in his own. "What are you doing, Emmett?" He asked carefully looking up to the man in front of him. Why was he doing this?

"No, Billy. What are you doing?" Emmett brought a hand up slapping his cheek lightly a smirk being born on his lips. "And just how long do you think you're gonna get away with it? Because I for one am tired of all the lies."

Freckle faced Logan just wanted his mom and to go home. He was starting to distrust his sitter and these men she had tag along ... especially the really tall guy, which was who Maggie spoke to in the living room right now.

"Did you see the news?" She asked as the taller man was cleaning up the room.

At the top of the steps, Logan had his boots on the floor beside him, peering through the railings. Where was Billy? He pressed his chin into the old wood trying to get a better visual.

"There's an APB on Emily." Whatever that was. "They can't find her."

Maggie's slim figure paced, a black box of a phone pressed firmly to her ear. Her head shook madly, "She's not picking up ... Emily, where are you? Call me. I'm worried. You know the secure line. Call it." The phone clicked and she looked worried. "Something's wrong. She should have called."

The tall guy shrugged, "Maybe she can't."

"That's what I'm worried about."

"Well, sounds like Rick screwed—"

Thud. Logan had tried to move to a better spot but his elbow knocked into his boot causing the leather thing to fall over.

"Logan?" Maggie called.

He got up quickly grabbing his boots in his arms, "I'm coming!" He raced down the length of steps stopping at the door to shove his feet into the boots and grab his soccer ball. Suddenly he didn't want to play with Maggie anymore.

"I'll be right out." She told him, but Logan's mind was on that black box of a phone.

Maggie closed the door behind him, leaning against it as she turned her attention to Emmet. "What's happening in the basement?"

"Ask your boyfriend." Emmett gathered magazines shuffling them so they face the same way. "He's taking care of it. Well, if he can."

"What is that supposed to mean?" She came from the door, suddenly demanding.

"Maggie, I lived with the guy for years." He flopped down the stack of flimsy books. "That's a long time to get to know someone."

She chuckled, "Is this about you two getting your gay on? Look. I don't care how much you fooled around. I'm not stupid. I know there's a reason you were acting like a jealous little girl, but whatever happened, don't fool yourself. Billy's not gay."

"Try again. You're way off." Emmett shook his head. Subtle short curls moved with him. "This is about Billy and his lies. He's lied to you," he point at her, "and me," he pointed to himself, "and Kate and everyone else."

"About what?" Maggie asked out of any guesses that she could possibly have.

His voice was low and he leaned in as he whispered, "Billy's never killed anyone ... ever." He pulled back to see the full view. Her face, oh god, her face. "But you didn't know that, did you? God, I wish you could see your face right now."

Megan was still in the basement; he just couldn't do it. Her eyes watched him knowingly. Upstairs Billy tugged on the edges of his sweatshirts sleeves, burying his hands within the fabric. The constant sounds of fingers on a keyboard came from the dining room. He hovered in the doorway to see Maggie with shoulders hunched forward staring into the bright glaze of a computer screen.

His throat cleared roughly, "You hear from Emily?"

"No."

"You getting worried?" Billy asked, pressing his shoulder into the doorframe.

She straightened her back, not looking at him, "I'm more worried about the girl in the basement."

"What are we gonna do about her?"

Maggie revealed a knife that had been between herself and keyboard. She pushed it towards him. "We can't let her go, and I don't want Logan to know about her. Take care of it."

Billy stared down at the knife swallowing hard. His mouth was dry, and tongue felt swollen. "Well - I mean, I really think Emmett should do it. You know, he's the one that brought her here."

"I think you should do it, Billy ..." she twisted in her seat, her eyes looked red and puffy, "since you never have. You told that story about the girl in high school. The one you took to prom."

He moved forward to touch her but she stood moving away. "I'm sorry, Mag. I love you, and I was ashamed. I mean, I was the only one who hadn't—"

Her head shook and she sniffled. "Why be a part of this?"

It was a slap in the face. A sting from the memory of his father's fist when he withdrew from med school—when he gave up what he could have been. "Because, because I want to. I want to be a part of this. And I tried."

"It's time to do more than try." She picked up the knife holding it out with both hands cradling the length. "Do it."

It's just one quick movement—right across the throat. Don't even look at her when you do it, ok? Just, just close your eyes and pull. Easy. It's easy, I got this.

But he didn't.

He opened his eyes, the blade against her throat, but his muscles were tense and unwilling. The back of Megan's head dug into his lower stomach as she tried to flee her death sentence. Pulling the blade away he reached for the tape sealing her mouth.

"I'm going to take this off, but please don't scream. Don't scream alright?"

Megan nodded, her eyes squinting as the tape was removed, pulling her tanned skin with it. A bottle had been left there from last night, Billy untwisted the cap feeding the opening to her. She didn't need to be encouraged as she sucked down as much as he would allow.

"Thank you. Billy, right?"

He slumped down onto the floor beside her, rubbing a palm against his forehead. "No talking," he mumbled.

There was silence for no more than a few second before Megan whispered softly, "I'll be quiet." She tried to smile, Billy knew what she was doing—what she was trying—she was doing the only thing that gave the thrill of hunting humans; they can reason. "I just want to say one thing. If you let me go, I won't say anything to anyone."

A short laugh left him. "Of course you won't."

"I know you don't want to hurt me. I have an idea." He peaked through the cracks of his fingers as she struggled against the rope. "You can cut me a little bit, on my arms and my legs," her voice cracked, "and I'll bleed a lot, all over the place, and then you can tell your friends you killed me. Then you can say that you took me out to the woods and dumped my body in the gully."

Billy listened, and he knew where to cut, but if Maggie found out... "They won't ever believe that."

"We'll make them believe it, and then I'll go home," a sob broke from her, "and I won't tell anyone, not a soul. Please. Let me go–I don't want to die." She was sobbing uncontrollably now and Billy dug his hands into the knife until his palms started to bleed.

"Shut up!" He yelled digging the blade further into his own meat. "Shut ... up." The pain momentarily brought him some sort of unspoken peace. Uncurling his hands he stared down at his blood. It was dark and pooled, spreading like webs in the cracks of his palms.

His tongue wet his lips as he thought through his options. Lifting the blade to eye level he watched the red beads glisten there way towards his hand. It was fascinating—but it was his own. It was easy to imagine hers strewn across this room, but it wasn't a pleasant thought. Then Billy looked back to Megan, she probably had a nice family who were calling every number they knew and probably ones they didn't in search of her. No. No. No. No. No! Stop, Billy, you need to stop thinking like that!

He got up slowly smearing his own blood down his face as he wiped at his eyes. Tears had found their way through, he couldn't do it. Leaning down he wedged the knife between her bound hands sawing at the thick rope. It cut and Megan started to pull free.

"Go!" Billy stepped away from her. "Get out of here, go!"

Megan was quick, her feet carrying her up the steps and away from her potential killer below—but she had two more somewhere in the house above.