"You are looking great!" Catherine said, her fingers deftly tugging at the thin metallic chain resting against my chest, straightening it until it sat perfectly in the middle.
"So who even is this girl that you are going to meet?" Grey asked from the living room. He was sprawled lazily across the worn fabric of the couch, bathed in the bright morning light pouring through the window as his thumbs absentmindedly twisted and aligned the colored tiles of my Rubik's cube.
"You have met her, dumbass—last night at the bar," Catherine exclaimed, throwing her hands up in exasperation.
Grey's fingers froze instantly over the plastic puzzle. He blinked, looking up toward us with a look of genuine, wide-eyed surprise. "I don't remember, though."
"Stop drinking so much then," I shot back dryly.
"All ready. You can get going now," Catherine declared, taking a step back to sweep a critical eye over me under the bright apartment lights, satisfied with her handiwork.
I turned and started walking toward the apartment door, swiping the Rubik's cube right out of Grey's open hands as I passed the sofa.
"Heyy!" he protested.
"Sorry, it's my lucky charm," I replied with a half-grin. I slipped the cube securely into an outer pocket of my backpack, pulled my leather jacket tight, and grabbed my helmet off the counter.
Outside, the bright mid-morning sun washed over the pavement as I swung my leg over the motorcycle. I pulled up the map on my phone, staring at the flashing location pin in disbelief.
Kelina Park...
Why would she want to meet so far out of the city?
I checked the top corner of the screen. No new messages. Billy still hadn't contacted me yet, and it was past 10:00 AM. A quiet coil of unease settled in my stomach.
Minutes later, I pulled up near the sunlit entrance of the park. Engine idling, I remained seated on my bike with my helmet still strapped tightly on, the tinted visor shielding my eyes as I watched the shadows under the trees.
"Quite the bike you got."
The smooth, melodic voice came from directly behind my shoulder. I flinched, spinning around in my seat. She was standing barely a foot away in the clear morning light, appearing out of thin air.
There hadn't been a single sound. No footsteps, no rustle of leaves. Nothing.
My eyes narrowed as I scanned her up and down. She was wearing a striking, blood-crimson dress paired with sleek, towering high heels. A pair of footwear like that should have clacked loudly against the pavement with every step, yet she had somehow managed to close the distance completely undetected.
"It is a gift from my father," I said, keeping my voice steady, though every muscle in my body stayed coiled and ready.
She smiled faintly, her eyes glinting in the morning sun. "Shall we?"
"Yes..."
"Stay here, I will go get my car," she chuckled softly, turning on her heel. "I don't think I can ride the bike while wearing this dress."
I watched her run off toward the parking lot to retrieve her vehicle, her laughter fading down the path.
I pulled out my phone again. Screen blank. Billy still had not contacted me yet. I tapped my fingers rhythmically against the handlebars, a knot tightening in my chest. I wondered what was taking him so long.
He was never late.
"Maybe I should tell Marco to check on Billy," I muttered to myself.
I raised my thumb to dial Marco's number just as a deep, deafening engine roar shattered the morning quiet. Headlights flashed in the daylight. I turned my head, following the thunderous sound of the motor, but before I could react, a massive steel grill slammed violently into my frame.
The heavy truck struck me full-force, trapping me against its front bumper as metal crumpled and the bike went skidding away across the asphalt.
Gasping for air and holding on barely to my life, I hauled my battered body upward, scrambling onto the front hood of the roaring beast. Through the clear, sunlight-lit glass of the windshield, I saw the driver.
The man was laughing maniacally.
"Haha, gotcha, bestie!" he howled, his face twisted into a deeply unnerving, terrifying smile.
"Billy...?" I choked out in utter confusion.
His eyes were wild, unrecognizing. Before I could process the sight of my best friend behind the wheel, he reached down, unholstered a handgun, and leveled the barrel straight at my chest.
My instincts kicked in. I pushed off the hood, leaping upward to the flat roof of the driver's compartment just as he pulled the trigger. Bullets tore through the cab roof beneath me, deafening cracks echoing over the roar of the engine.
Narrowly missing the incoming fire, I dropped over the side, grabbing onto the metal top bars attached to the driver-side door. I swung my entire body weight forward, shattering the side window with a heavy boots-first impact and bursting into the cab.
My lead foot smashed violently into Billy's face. The blow sent him reeling, and his hands wildly jerked the steering wheel. The heavy truck swerved violently, clipping parked cars, tearing off side mirrors, and careening recklessly toward the pedestrian sidewalk.
Glass shards rained down inside the sunlit cab as Billy and I scuffled. He thrashingly aimed the gun, blindly firing off shots that ricocheted off the interior metal, while I twisted and dodged in the cramped space, desperately trying to disarm and immobilize him.
"Fuck you!" Billy snarled through bloodied teeth.
He slammed his foot down hard on the accelerator. The truck surged forward with a terrifying burst of speed, heading straight toward a cluster of small strays playing in the middle of the road.
"Not the meow meows!"
I threw my arm around Billy's neck, locking him into a tight, frantic headlock. At the same time, I stretched my leg across the floorboards and kicked the steering wheel hard to the side. The truck violently jerked left—missing the kittens, but veering straight toward a heavily pregnant woman walking along the sidewalk.
"Oh fuck..."
"Oh shit!!!!"
Billy and I screamed in unison as the heavy wheels crushed forward, trampling over the pregnant mother before the truck plowed through the brick back wall of an Italian restaurant.
The catastrophic impact threw both of us forward through the remaining windshield glass. We tumbled across the shattered brickwork, landing hard in the dark pool of blood left behind by the woman we had just hit.
The dust settled, choked with the smell of gasoline and crushed garlic in the bright morning light filtering through the hole in the wall.
"At least the kittens are safe..." I groaned out loud, struggling to push myself up. Half my clothes were torn and drenched in blood.
I looked up to see Billy groggily pushing himself off the floor.
"You psycho, you killed that innocent lady!"
I scrambled to my feet, grabbed the nearest heavy metal pan off a fallen prep table, and bitch-slapped him squarely across the face with it as he tried to stand. The loud CLANG echoed through the ruined kitchen.
He spat blood, glaring at me from the floor. "You turned the wheel into her!"
Before I could hit him again, he grabbed a bucket of heavy kitchen utensils off a counter and launched it at my head. Spatulas, whisks, and metal scoops struck me in a chaotic spray, knocking me back off balance.
We both scrambled up at the same time. I gripped my pan in one hand and snatched up a heavy metal ladle in the other. Across the ruined room, Billy reached down and drew a gleaming, razor-sharp chef's knife from a butcher's block—the sharpest blade in the room.
"That's just cheating," I gritted out.
Billy didn't answer. He lunged forward with a murderous yell, throwing a storm of relentless, blinding slashes at my chest. I fell back, raising my trusty pan and spoon in a desperate rhythm, deflecting the heavy metal blade with a flurry of sharp, ringing sparks.
Clang! Slice! Clang!
Seeing his slashes blocked, Billy snapped a heavy front kick toward my midsection. I caught his ankle mid-air, twisted his momentum, and slammed him hard onto the grease-slicked floor. I pinned his upper body, wrapping him in a vice-like hold and driving his own arm back until the sharp tip of the chef's knife hovered inches above his wide, terrified face.
The point hovered right above his retina, trembling.
"What the fuck happened, Billy? Why are you attacking me...?" I demanded, panting heavily as I pushed the knife closer to his eye.
A chilling, empty grin slowly spread across his bloodied face.
"No Billy... Only Cassandra," he rasped in a menacing, unnatural voice.
"What?"
"See you in hell, Aztec," he hissed.
Before I could react, Billy snapped his head violently forward into the blade, using his free hand to grip my wrist and hold my hand from retracting. The sharp steel bit deep into his forehead, slicing deeper and deeper into his skull as he repeatedly slammed his head against it, until his grip finally loosened and he stopped moving altogether.