Scorpio

Chapter XIV

"What are you doing?" I yelled after xyr, panicked.

Xe turned for a split second and repeated, "Stay there."

I watched with mounting hideous misery as xe ran up to the burning house, knocked out a window, and leapt into the flames.

Hands shaking and breaths coming in ragged snatches, I dug out my phone and dialed the three worst digits in the world. While I waited for the call to connect, something fanned the air above me, and I looked up. A drone buzzed away.

The call connected with a click.

"Hello?"

~ ~ ~

Inside a spacious room, door locked, and curtains drawn, a 32" flatscreen T.V. hung on the wall across from a leather sofa and a large, four-poster bed. Next to the T.V. was an executive desk and leather swivel chair, the material matching that of the plump sofa.

One young man sat in the executive chair. He took a sip of water. By his elbow, his girlfriend stood in black knee-high boots, fitted white pants, and a black riding suit with white kid skin gloves. He fiddled with some controls to zoom in the view that was currently displayed on the monitor. They watched a girl punch numbers into an old phone.

"I can't believe she got away again!" Zirconia wailed.

"This was your plan," Killian grumbled, holding down an arrow key to direct the drone away from the disappointing scene.

"Who knew she was going to run off with that freak?" she huffed. "We almost got her."

"Did we end up getting anyone?" he asked her angrily. "Anyone?"

"Are you blaming me for all this?" she raised her voice. "I was only helping both of us the whole time!"

"Helping?" He stood up, shoving the swivel chair back roughly. "Do you call this helping?" He flung a hand at the computer screen.

"You know this is for the best. And you were the one who messed up first, in my house, of all places."

"Do you know what'll happen if anyone finds out about all of this? This is an even bigger mess."

"No one's going to find out...unless someone tells. Is that what you're going to do, Killian? Is that what you're going to do after all we've been through?"

"Who said I was going to say anything?" he snarled. "You're the one who's always pointing fingers!"

"At least I'm not the one who's always seeing ghosts," she threw the words at him. "If you see them so often, maybe you should go join them!"

"Nothing has gone right," he paced the room with his hands clasped behind his head and blew out a stream of hot air. "Nothing—all year. This was supposed to be the time of our lives, the last hurrah. And what have we been doing? Running after a bunch of freshmen."

"Freshmen scum," she scoffed.

"For what? Zirconia, for what?" he asked with extreme fatigue.

"For our way of life," she replied, walking up to him, and pulling him to a stop.

"We'll both leave soon for college. None of this will matter."

"No, this does matter. This does matter because the mess you leave behind follows you like a shadow—follows you until the statute of limitations is up at least. That's why this is necessary—to protect ourselves from that shadow."

"How can you think about the statute of limitations at a time like this? Is there even a statute of limitations for us? For murder? For arson?"