Fuzzy Navel

11:03 P.M.
KORK

I’M RIGHT ABOUT JACK being lucky. She might very well be the luckiest bitch on the planet.

I yawn. It’s not from boredom. I can’t remember many days in my life that have been more exciting than this one. But fatigue is setting in. I’m tired. Sore. Part of me is tempted to get the hell out of here, find a nice bed-and-breakfast someplace quiet, murder the owners and spend a few days just relaxing.

But I’m not going to leave without killing Jack and Company. Plus there’s still the matter of the gun nuts surrounding the house who can’t aim for shit but still have managed to complicate things. I counted three. They’re using bolt action rifles with suppressors, and a variety of ammunition and scopes. Not pros. Anyone with military experience could have wiped out everyone in the house a long time ago. Hunters, maybe. Or wannabe soldiers.

Whoever they are, they seem angry at Jack, and I don’t expect they’ll give up any time soon. I’ll have to deal with them eventually, but first things first.

I pick up the gun Harry dropped and I’m not surprised to find it empty. I toss it onto the workbench.

Then I check the door to the house. Locked. It’s one of those security doors, a solid wood center sandwiched between metal plates, steel or aluminum. The jamb and frame are heavy-duty as well. I can’t kick it in, because the hinges are on this side.

I spy the automatic garage door opener next to the door. I could open it, run outside, and find another way into the house. But then I’d be opening myself up for target practice.

I glance at the door to the house again. Maybe there’s a key for the dead bolt in the garage somewhere. I check the workbench and see something even better than a key.

I walk over to it, feeling a warmth well up inside me, the same warmth I always feel when I have a chance to kill someone in an exciting new way.

It’s not gas powered, unfortunately. It’s electric. But Jack has thoughtfully provided me with a fifty-foot extension cord, easily long enough to reach the hallway bathroom where everyone is hiding.

I pick it up. It feels natural in my hands, like something I was born to hold. I smile.

Then I search around for an outlet, so I can plug in my new chain saw.