Hunter/Prey

Chapter 9

She’s dead. The girl’s dead.

The thought raced through her head the instant Beckard reappeared out of the hallway by himself. When she saw his face — and that glib expression plastered all over it — she had no doubts whatsoever.

The girl was dead. Sabrina. Who had the kind of intense gaze and intelligent eyes that reminded her so much of her—

Stop it! Concentrate on the moment!

“Donnie!” Allie shouted.

Donnie was moving one of the steaks over to a plate when he glanced up. “What?”

“She’s dead! Sabrina’s dead!”

“What the fuck you talking about?”

Beckard paused briefly and looked at her, and she could tell she had caught him off guard.

“She’s dead!” Allie shouted. “Inside the bathroom, Donnie! He killed Sabrina when they were in the bathroom!”

Donnie looked across the cabin at Beckard. “What’s she talking about? Where’s Sabrina?”

“She’s finishing up,” Beckard said as he resumed his walk across the cabin living room.

She was amazed at how casual he was, as if he were on a Sunday stroll instead of having just left a body behind in the bathroom. She had expected a bigger reaction from him — something, anything to give away that he was flustered by her accusation.

“She’ll be out soon,” Beckard said.

“Don’t trust him,” Allie said. “He’s lying, Donnie. Sabrina’s in there, and she’s dead. He killed her.”

Donnie glanced at her again, then back at Beckard, like a child caught between two bickering parents, unable to decide who to trust. The big metal fork was still clutched in his hand, and she tried to will him to stick it into Beckard’s gut.

“Why is she saying that?” Donnie asked.

“She’s crazy; don’t listen to her,” Beckard said. He was halfway across the living room now, and passing her. “She knows she’s going to jail after this. She’s just desperate.”

“Don’t listen to him!” Allie shouted. “Sabrina’s in there! He killed her with that knife!”

Donnie’s eyes shifted to the knife on Beckard’s hip. She wondered if there was still blood on the blade. Maybe if she could get Donnie to look at it—

Beckard had detoured at the last second and crouched in front of her. “Give it a rest. No one’s going to believe a crazy woman.”

Allie ignored him and focused on Donnie instead. “Don’t let him get the shotgun, Donnie! Make him take you to the bathroom! You’ll see—”

Beckard had picked up the roll of duct tape from the floor when she wasn’t looking, and he slapped a strip over her mouth now, cutting off the rest of her warning. She tried to get up but lost her balance and fell back down, landing sideways on the floor.

Beckard stood back up. “Don’t listen to her, Donnie. She’s crazy, remember? She’ll say anything to get out of this. I wouldn’t be surprised if we find out she really did do something to her boyfriend.”

Allie managed to turn herself until she could see Donnie in the kitchen. He had picked up the shotgun and was holding it at his side as he walked around the counter.

Thank God he’s smarter than he looks.

“But what’s she saying, about Sabrina?” Donnie said. “Where is she?”

“I told you, she’s in the bathroom, cleaning up,” Beckard said. “It’s my fault. I was bleeding, and I guess I made a mess.”

The man’s voice was amazingly relaxed, even…soothing. Was this how he had lured all his victims, she wondered. This unnatural calmness, even when confronted with a frazzled boyfriend holding a shotgun? Was this what allowed him to get away with it all these years? This sociopathic personality, this uncanny ability to spin lies at a moment’s notice?

In all the research she had done on Beckard (even though she never knew his name until now), one thing was always certain: He was smart. Or maybe the right word was cunning. And now she could add creative to that list. The man simply knew how to adapt and overcome. It was an amazingly impressive trait, something to be admired if he was anything other than a sick murderer piece of shit.

“You can go and check for yourself,” Beckard was saying. “I swear, Donnie, I didn’t do anything. You can’t listen to her. Remember what she did? She almost shot Sabrina with that shotgun earlier. And she might have, if you hadn’t tackled her.”

Donnie’s eyes snapped back to Allie before returning to Beckard, only to return to her again. She wanted to yell at him to stop looking at her face and focus on Beckard instead, because the state trooper was still walking toward him. Very slowly, each deliberate step getting him closer and closer to Donnie, to the shotgun.

Allie tried jerking her head in Beckard’s direction to lead his gaze where she wanted it. Tried to scream out the warning with her eyes and frantic head movements, because everything she wanted to say was lost as incoherent mumbling against the duct tape.

Donnie continued to hold the Remington at his side as if it were a third arm he didn’t know how to use. Beckard must have seen that, too, because she noticed he had begun moving faster toward the younger man.

“She’s inside the bathroom?” Donnie was saying to Beckard. His voice had lost some of its earlier intensity, which made Allie even more desperate. “She’s fine?”

“Yeah, of course,” Beckard said. “She said she had to clean up because this is Wade’s uncle’s cabin and she didn’t want to leave a mess behind.”

That seemed to resonate with Donnie and Allie saw, to her horror, his big body relaxing. “Yeah, she’s a stickler for that type of stuff. That’s why I love her.” Then he put the shotgun back on the counter and Allie’s heart sank. “Man, she really got me going there,” he said, staring daggers across the room at Allie.

Beckard looked back at her, too. “I guess that’s one of her talents. She suckered me in earlier, too. I had no idea what she was capable of until she attacked.”

“Girls, man,” Donnie said. “Can’t live with them…”

“…can’t live without them?”

“I was going to say, ‘Can’t live with them, can’t trust them not to bash your head in when you’re not looking.’”

They both got a good laugh out of that.

“You’re telling me,” Beckard said, and rubbed at the back of his head for effect.

“Anyway, steak’s ready,” Donnie said. “You wanted medium rare, right?”

“Yup. Man, that smells good.”

Donnie walked back around the counter and picked up the fork. “She should hurry up. Hers was ready a while ago.”

“I don’t think she’s coming, Donnie,” Beckard said.

“Huh?”

“Sabrina. I don’t think she’s coming out of the bathroom.”

Donnie stared at him, confused. “What do you mean?”

Oh, you stupid bastard. You stupid, stupid bastard.

Beckard picked up the shotgun from the counter.

Donnie stared at him, then at the shotgun, before returning his dumbfounded gaze to Beckard. The look on his face said it all. The man didn’t quite comprehend what had happened, what was happening, and what would happen in the next few seconds.

“What I mean is, Sabrina’s dead,” Beckard said. “She’s right. I did kill your girlfriend in the bathroom. Sorry, kid.”

“You…”

Donnie looked across the room at Allie. She felt sorry for him. Stupid, dumb Donnie.

He turned back to Beckard as the realization sunk in. “You killed her? My Sabrina?”

“Yup,” Beckard said, as if he were discussing the weather.

Something burst and Donnie ran around the counter, yelling wildly, raising the fork high above his head to strike. “You fucker!”

Beckard shot him from almost point-blank range and blew a hole through Donnie’s chest, the discharge thundering inside the cabin. The big blond twenty-something flopped to the floor, the fork clattering a split second before an empty shell flew out of the Remington and landed nearby.

Beckard turned around and shook his head, tsk tsking at Allie. “See what you did? I hope you realize this is all your fault.”

He hadn’t finished talking when loud footsteps filled the room, coming from behind her.

Allie managed to roll around in time to see Wade and Rachel racing out of the hallway. Wade, in front, slid to a stop at the sight of Beckard with the shotgun and Donnie’s body half-visible behind the counter.

“What’s going on?” Wade asked, his voice trembling.

Instead of answering with his mouth, Beckard chose to let the Remington do it for him. He fired a shot into the ceiling, the second round nearly as deafening as the first.

Rachel, already hidden behind Wade, screamed and pressed her hands against her ears, as if that would magically transport her away from here.

“Donnie’s dead, and Sabrina’s dead, too,” Beckard said. He walked across the room, the barrel of the shotgun pointed at Wade’s chest. The weapon, like his hand, was amazingly steady. “Stay calm and don’t do anything stupid, and the two of you won’t join them. I promise.”

Allie frantically tried to catch Wade’s eyes.

He’s lying, Wade! He’s going to kill you and take Rachel!

He’s lying! That’s what he does! He lies and lies, until he kills you!

Wade didn’t seem to even remember she was there as he raised his arms into the air. “Okay, okay, whatever you say, man. Don’t hurt us, okay? We’ll do whatever you say, just as long as you don’t hurt us.”

The sound of Beckard’s footsteps had stopped, and Allie rolled back around until she bumped up against a familiar steel-toed boot. She looked up at Beckard, who was smiling down at her, the barrel of the shotgun pointing nonchalantly at the ceiling.

The smug look on his face said everything.

He’d won.

Again.

“Two for the price of one,” Beckard said. “‘Dear Penthouse Forum, I didn’t think it would ever happen to me…’”

Then his expression seemed to change and he narrowed his eyes at her. He didn’t say anything for a long time and was content to just look at her. This, she realized, was the first time they had stared so closely at one another, and she could see her own reflection in the orbs of his irises.

“You know, you look familiar,” he said. “Have we met before?”