Approaching Paula's lifeless form, I didn't want to touch her. I couldn't look at her straight on. Even still, I moved with purpose, not wanting anyone else to see my self-doubt.
I made Ray follow Misty and me. I needed him to keep Prisha busy while we moved the body. I trusted her... but only to an extent. Prisha was set in her ways and while I believed she'd follow my decision, I also knew that she'd question it. I didn't have time to convince her to see the situation from my side. She'd protest and we'd lose the little time we had.
"Go," I hissed at Ray as I bent over Paula's body.
He found her in her previous spot in the dining room just out of sight. I could barely make out their soft whispers. I had him tell her to be prepared for the outsiders to sneak in from the back of the house. She needed to be ready to watch out backs.
I hooked my arms through Paula's, heaving her up into a sitting position by her armpits.
Maybe we should change the plan and put her by a door. She could look easy to knock out and...
I blanched at my own train of thought.
We have to use her. It's her last way of helping us.
Misty grabbed Paula by the legs, wedging the fire poker under one of her arms as she did.
"One. Two. Three." On three, she helped me lift. Paula was frail, but neither one of us was prepared for the weight. I stumbled back a step nearly dropping the body in the process.
Maybe we can make her look alive and like we've kicked her out and she's just unconscious?
In a painfully slow process, we shuffled towards the hall. My back was straining and I had to signal Misty to lower Paula for a moment of reprieve.
No. No point.
I nodded to Misty that I was ready again and made sure to lift with my legs.
Leaving a coat on her will help, but should we give her a backpack?
We made it to the glass doors and shook my head at Ian when he approached to help.
No. They'll never believe we'd give it up. We have to look weak – not stupid.
"Stay out of sight," I reminded him before turning back to Misty. "We'll probably need to put her down while I get the door."
"Okay." The strain in Misty's voice didn't help my nerves.
They need to see us struggle – even with the door.
I made a show of it, wondering if they could even see me through the glass or if they were even looking.
Put on a fucking performance.
If I was going to use my friend's body like a freaking puppet, I was going to make damn sure it was worth it.
I fumbled with the door more than necessary, letting it swing wide open as though I'd lost control while trying to not let the body slump to the floor. The body leaned heavily on my legs as I struggled to regain my grip under its armpits.
"You good?" I asked Misty, hoping my exaggerated whisper didn't sound too forced.
She couldn't speak. Her face had gone so pale it was nearly ashen. No performance would be needed from her. Misty's authentic reaction was enough to make anyone believe we were on the verge of collapse.
"Don't look at her," I told Misty as we crossed the threshold onto the small back deck. Our feet crunched loudly on the thin layer of snow as we practically dragged the body outside into the cold, night air.
"I promise she'll be fine. It's just for one night." My words were two-pronged. I did mean them and I hoped I was reminding Misty that what we were doing was only temporary, however, I also spoke for the greater purpose of being overheard.
We don't see you. You see us and we don't see you.
I told myself the same words over and over. I could almost feel the shadows of the four figures pressing in. They were watching, listening... waiting.
In a show of subtlety, I made a move as though I was looking around the yard. I let my gaze glide right over where I knew the figures were last seen. I needed them to believe we'd simply missed them. I needed them to be emboldened.
I shivered. "This is far enough," I whispered loudly as we made it to the back steps. Gently, we lowered her body to the top of them. I hoped the sight of the body would either draw them in or slow them down as they came for the door.
We both straightened up. I looked at Misty as she stared down at the body. My mind kept spinning.
How do we get them to rush?
I followed Misty's gaze down to the body's exposed legs. "Do you want to cover her?" I asked Misty.
Misty's eyes darted up to me, confusion written all over her face. I was deviating from the plan. Pressing my lips in a firm thin line, I did my best to urge her with my eyes to speak.
They need to hear your distress.
"I – uh – okay." Misty sounded more confused than I was hoping for, but her genuine distress helped the pitch of her voice rise, making it easier to be heard across the yard.
I nodded. "Let's go see what we can find." I made my voice syrupy-sweet as I picked up the fire poker from the snow where Misty had left it when she lowered the body. She wasn't thinking clearly, but I needed her to hold it together for a bit longer. Wrapping an arm around her, I passed her back her weapon. She took it with a shaky hand.
We moved together to head back inside. Every step sent a feeling of icy pricks up my spine. The feeling of being watched was so intense it took everything I had to not run for the door.
Four steps away.
I thought I heard movement, but it was hard to tell over Misty's panting breaths.
Three steps.
I shifted my arm slightly, feeling my ice pick slip so the tip grazed my palm.
Two steps.
Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud.
It took me a moment to process what I was hearing.
Footsteps.
Someone was running across the snow behind us. I didn't need to turn around to know they were sprinting right for us.
I lost all the air in my lungs as instinctual panic hit me right in the gut. I was too scared to look. Instead, I shoved Misty ahead of me and through the door. I followed her in, slamming into Ian in the process.
The two of us staggered as he caught me before I fell to the ground.
Heavy footsteps thundered up the back steps. We would be breached in seconds. Despite all my careful planning, it felt like I had no time to think.
"Move!" Ray pushed us aside heading right for the door with his crowbar at the ready.
Two men barged inside. The shorter of the two was almost instantly hit upside the head by Ray's crowbar.
The man yelled out in surprise and pain as he dropped a hammer to the ground, clutching his head. His companion froze in his tracks. He looked as though he was going to take a step back, but he was shoved forward by another two men squeezing themselves into the room.
The shove had the man nearly tripping over his feet as the forward momentum drove him deeper into the room. The movement itself seemed to set something off in Misty and, in a move I wouldn't have expected, she lunged.
Almost as if she was fencing, she held her fire poker in a stance like a sword. When the man moved closer to her, she thrust her arm forward and pierced him right in the belly with the tip of the poker. Both of their eyes widened in surprise.
It was as if the room was on pause. Our four stared at their four and they looked at us in return. We had clearly caught them by surprise just as I had hoped, but the moment of truth was now upon us. The moment when we all had to make the choice of what would come next – and how far things would go.
A part of me still held hope that they'd back off.
They didn't.
The man clutching his head was bent over and took the opportunity to snatch up his hammer. Ray did not give him the chance to do anything with it. Raising his arms high, he swung the crowbar down as hard as he could on the back of the man's head.
The man dropped to the ground, splayed out for all of us to see. It was unclear if he was dead, but from the amount of blood that began to flow out of the dent in his head, it was clear that he wouldn't last long.
All hell broke loose after that. Ian pushed me aside so he could raise the rifle. I tried to get out of his way but ended up face-to-face with the man who'd been stabbed in the gut. He wore horn-rimmed glasses with one of the lenses cracked, but I could still see the pain in his eyes as he grasped at my jacket.
Misty raised her fire poker and brought it down on his head. He flinched but nothing more. Unlike Ray, there had been little power behind her swing. From beyond the man's shoulder, I could see she was raising it again.
Not wanting to get accidentally hit, I yanked myself away from the man as hard as I could. I overestimated how tight his grip was and fell back, landing hard on the floor.
Feet darted past my face and I watched in astonishment as Prisha almost threw herself into the fray. She whacked the man in the back with her wrench just as he'd turned to face Misty.
At the far side of the room, there was a loud grunt. I looked over to see that Ray was being pinned to the wall by the other two men. They were using his own crowbar against him. They were positioned on either side of him, holding the ends of the crowbar and pressing it into his neck.
He was fighting them, trying to push the bar away from his neck, but he was losing. Fast. His face was turning an alarming shade of red.
No.
Desperate to get to him in time, I yanked my ice pick out of my sleeve and crawled across the floor, uncaring if my hands and knees were sliding in snow or blood.
I tried to stand up but was forced to stay down as Prisha came close to stepping on me while she was focused on helping Misty. I didn't waste time on another attempt and chose to continue to crawl. I returned my eyes to Ray and I could see what almost looked like foamy spittle building up on his lower lip as he choked.
A loud bang exploded through the room with a flash of light. A warm spray hit my face right as I passed the man Ray had taken out on the floor. Blinking the liquid out of my eyes, I saw that one of the men who'd been holding the crowbar had let go. He dropped to his knees in front of me, grasping his side.
The other man backed off, letting Ray retake control of his crowbar as he coughed and sputtered. Over my shoulder, I knew Ian stood ready to use the gun again. He wouldn't need to.
I crawled forward again, feeling a drop of blood roll down my cheek. My whole focus was on the shot man. Still on his knees, his navy bomber jacket was becoming saturated with blood as he clutched his side. Despite his best efforts, the red stain grew.
Not giving him the chance to recover, I struck. In the vulnerable junction between the neck and shoulder, I stabbed my ice pick as deep as it would go.
The man emitted something between a wail and a gargle as blood spurted up from the wound. I could hardly breathe as he fell forward. For a few more seconds, his hand helplessly patted around his neck until he went still.
I felt like lightning went off in my brain, fracturing me into a million pieces as I stared at what I'd done. I felt sick. I felt nothing. I felt everything all at once.
The sound of metal against flesh filled my ears as my friends fought on. To my side, Misty and Prisha beat the man with the glasses till he was on the ground. He had his hands over his head, but they didn't stop. They didn't stop until he stopped moving.
My skin felt hot and cold all at once. I wanted to be sick, especially as I used my sleeve to wipe the blood from my face. It was useless, however – my hands were wet with blood too.
With what felt like an insurmountable amount of effort, I got to my knees, then my feet. My legs wobbled, but I held fast. I needed to stay strong. I needed to hold on a little longer.
One more. Just one more.
Following the aim of Ian's rifle, I found the last man. His thin, wiry frame shook like a leaf as he held his weapon-free hands high above his head.
He was talking, but I had a hard time hearing any of it. My mind was doing its best to separate itself from what was happening. As much as I wanted to escape into it, I needed to think.
"... didn't want to do this. They made me! I swear. Please! I swear I had nothing to do with this." The man's voice was deep but it kept cracking as he pleaded.
His eyes were so wide open that I could see the white above his dark irises. His unshaven chin quivered as I moved closer to him. His gaze fell to the ice pick in my hand.
"Please. Please. Please."
"You would have killed us." The words came from my mouth, but the voice didn't feel like it was mine. It was harsh. Cold. Angry. I was scared and far too sick inside to feel any of those things.
"What was your plan?" I asked.
"We just wanted some food. I swear. I swear to God. Please. Please, I didn't want to do it. I'll do anything you ask. Please!"
His terror was more than I could take. "Are there any more of you?"
"No. No. I only joined them a few days ago. I had no idea what they were like. Please, you have to believe me. Please, I mean no harm!"
I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling a tremor run through me. I didn't know if I could trust him or believe him. They had rushed us just as I'd predicted. He could have run away. He chose to come in.
I can't.
For all I knew, he was wasting time, waiting for more people to come and help him.
I can't.
"Tie him up," I ordered the others. "Keep an eye on him."
With a stiff spine and sure legs, I strode out of the room as though I had a purpose. I walked straight to the bathroom and closed the door behind me. I retched into the toilet until there was nothing left.