Hillary_Flesh and Blood (46 page)

Hillary
thought about the fire in Jax
’
s room and wondered how far it had spread before Jax
’
s father returned home to discover it.
She only wished that she could have been there to see his stupid-looking face twist in agony. At least she’d be seeing more suffering soon.
She smiled as she dozed off with thoughts of Laura...Laura in the woods.

While Hillary slept snug in her warm bed, Kathy grew hot and feverish, alternating between unconsciousness and delirium. Her irritated face and scalp burned and itched. At one point she scratched at her left cheek so fiercely that it bled. Earlier she had been relieved to finally empty her bladder; now the acidic moisture and dampness against her crotch and posterior end was causing a painful, burning rash on her skin. It
felt as if she had one form of
ache and pain or another from her head to her feet.

Yet the physical pain waned in comparison to her mental anguish. She could not suppress the hideous images of her butchered children, especially the horrid sight of her little boy
’
s decapitated, cooked head. She heard him crying out to her, calling her, tormenting her guilt-ridden
soul
.

M
ooommm-meeeeee...mooommm-meeeeee...
. It was t
he longest night of her life. It was t
he first of many long, restless nights.

Hilla
ry awoke refreshed and excited. She
humm
ed
happily as she quickly dressed and grabbed the brown bottle and knapsack from her dresser. She placed her cell phone, along with Jax
’
s
,
in the bag. She stopped at the linen closet to grab a couple
of
washcloths before sprinting down the stairs. As she passed her mother
’s traumatized body, she heard her mother
mumbling incoherently. Her eyes were open but transfixed on the ceiling. She didn
’
t seem to notice Hillary, who leaned down to get a good look at her mother
’
s reddened, inflamed face. Hill
ary smiled at her handiwork bef
ore continuing on to the kitchen.

It was almost seven-thirty. It would take Hillary about a half an hour to walk to the old picnic table on the east end trail. She had enough time for a quick breakfast. She toasted a bagel, spread some cream cheese on it, poured the remaining apple juice from the container into a glass and carried her meal into the living room. She placed her food and
juice
on the coffee table and settled down upon the couch.

Hillary took a big bite out of her bagel before turning on the television. Normally she had no interest in local news but today was different. She was curious as to whether there was any footage about the fire at Jax
’
s house. She changed the station to channel 17, the local news, weather and traffic channel. As she ate her bagel, she listened indifferently to the slim brunette warning of a possible chance of rain late in the evening. Minutes later, a handsome but aging man with dark blonde hair yapped about the current traffic patterns on the
“
major
”
local highways. There was an accident being cleared off the Turner Road exit of Route 5.

Blah, blah, blah,
Hillary thought, chomping down on her cinnamon raisin bagel.

Fifteen minutes later, after Hillary had finished her bagel and was just about to shut the television off, a
“
breaking news
”
alert came on. An older female newscaster, who looked like she could be the weathergirl
’
s mother, began talking about a tragic fire that took the lives of three children last night at a house on Fair Mea
d
ow Road.

“
The charred bodies of fourteen-year-old Jacqueline Montgomery and her twin infant sisters, Chelsea and Chyna, were found in the home after their father, Robert Montgomery, returned
home from work around midnight
,
”
the reporter stated solem
nly. “H
e is being held for questioning after investigators entered the home and found a large amount of blood on the floor.
”

The scene shifted to a uniformed man in front of the Montgomery home. The words on the screen identified him as Police Chief Edward Carragher. He was
a stocky, middle-aged man with a full head of sandy brown hair and
a neat mustache.

“
At this point we are gathering information and it remains unclear whether Mr. Montgomery was involved in the deaths of his daughters. We do know that all three children
were killed prior to the fire
and that
the
fire was intentionally set....
”

“
Ha!
”
Hillary squealed in delight thinking that Jax
’
s dad would go to jail for her crimes.

The scene switched back to the newscaster who shook her head morosely and expressed her heartfelt condolences to the victims
’
family. She assured her viewers that she would keep them apprised of all
of
the latest developments, then a commercial for a local supermarket aired.

Hillary turned the television off with a huge smile plastered on her face. It would be another great and exciting day for her. It was just after eight now, the perfect time to start her adventure. She left her dish full of crumbs a
long with the
empty glass on the coffee table as she grabbed her supplies and left her home.

It was another cool morning but Hillary knew that the brisk walk would warm her up. As she neared the woods, she could smell the rotting remains of her father that she had carelessly discarded. As she passed the clearing, a flock of scavenging birds squawked and flapped their wings, readying for flight as she continued down the path, leaving them to feast upon the human carrion.

Hillary was right. She was nearly sweating by the time she reached the splintered old picnic bench. She set her knapsack down on its faded red top and pulled out the bottle of chloroform, her cell phone and one of the washcloths. She fastened it closed then walked away with the bottle and washcloth, leaving the knapsack in clear view on the table.

Hillary walked ten feet away and concealed herself within the dense growth of trees and thicket. She checked the time on her cell phone. It was fifteen minutes before nine. She knew that Laura would drive her shiny new car there. She would park in the small lot where the entrance to the trails was. It would be a fifteen to twenty minute walk to get to the picnic table from there. If she was running on time, she would be walking now, getting closer.

An unpleasant thought crossed Hillary
’
s mind. What if Laura saw the news broadcast and knew that Jax was dead? Then she wouldn
’
t be coming at all. Hillary began to grow anxious. She hated when she couldn
’
t control every detail of her plans. There were always to
o
many unpredictable variables. All she could do was hope for the best...the best for her, not Laura.

Impatiently, Hillary checked her cell phone for the time every two to three minutes. Five minutes after nine, Hillary thought she heard the sound of leaves rustling and twigs snapping. Someone was coming. She held her breath as she waited to see Laura appear.

“
Jax?
”
Laura called out as she stepped from the path into Hillary
’
s view.

Laura looked annoyed that Jax wasn
’
t there. She swatted at a fly or mosquito. Hillary quietly uncapped the chloroform and placed the washcloth over the top. She tilted the bottle and thoroughly doused the washcloth, careful not to breathe in the fumes. She held the damp cloth within her left hand as she twisted the cap back on the bottle.

“
Where are you Jax?
”
Laura called out loudly,
“
these mosquito
e
s are eating me alive.
”

Hillary could see that Laura had spotted the knapsack. She walked up to it and reached out for it. It was now or never. She rushed toward Laura as quickly and quietly as she could. Hearing her advancing fast, Laura turned to face who she thought was Jax. She looked
mortifi
ed to find that it wasn
’
t her friend Jax, but
rather
crazy Hillary the
F
reak.

“
What
—”

Hillary pounced on her, placing the chloroform-drenched washcloth over Laura
’
s nose and mouth. They both dropped to the ground.

“
It worked!
”
Hillary said to herself excitedly.

She had been worried that her chloroform creation might not be effective. While she
had been
waiting
for Laura to arrive,
she chided herself for not testing it out on her mother first. She didn
’
t even have a knife with her or a back-up plan in case her concoction
failed
. Now her worries were behind her. It worked perfectly and Laura was out for the count. But for how long?

Fearing that Laura would regain consciousness, Hillary ran to her knapsack and began pulling out the things she had packed. Unbeknownst to her, Laura was sitting up, watching her curiously. Laura had smelled the sweet, somewhat acrid scent from the washcloth as
Hillary brought it toward her face
. She didn
’
t know what it was, but she knew it coul
d
n
’
t be good. She held her breath as Hillary rammed into her, shoving the wet cloth
over her nose
. When they were on the ground, she closed her eyes and pretended to be knocked out.

She had heard stories about Hi
llary. She had supposedly snapped and gone crazy
. Some rumors claimed that she tried to commit suicide. Others alleged that she had been confined
to
a mental institution. However the details varied, the bottom-line fact remained the same: Hillary was
insane
. When she returned to school, everyone could see the d
r
astic change in her.

Laura didn
’
t know why, but she was afraid of Hillary, afraid of what the crazy girl would do to her. She had gone to the trouble of having Jax arrange for her to be there and then she ambushed her, placing some odd-smelling chemical over her nose. She was clearly up to no good. After Laura saw the first knife come out of the knapsack, her suspicions were confirmed. Hillary was going to try to kill her. But she wasn
’
t going to succeed.

As quiet as a mouse, Laura stood up and darted back the way she had come, grateful that Hillary
was
so engrossed in emptying out her bag. She could hear the clanging of sharp knives from yards away as she ran. She was too afraid to look back.

Hillary, finally deciding on the large carving knife, clutched it tightly in her hand as she turned to face Laura. Her eyes widened in disbelief when she discovered that Laura was gone. Carefully holding the knife away from her,
H
illary ran as fast as she could toward the small parking lot.

“
Laura!
”
she screamed ferociously,
“
come
back,
I have something for you.
”

Laura was
about a quarter of a mile away from
the lot when she heard Hillary shouting after her. Her heart racing, she propelled forward. She didn
’
t dare look back. She knew that Hillary was fast. She knew that Hillary could outrun her and would catch up in no time at all. She was so close to the lot now, so close to her car....

“
Laura!
”
Hillary
’
s sharp, angry voice reverberated through the treetops.

Oh, God,
Laura thought frantically,
she
’
s gaining on me...she
’
s going to stab me!

Laura was thankful that she
, too,
w
as a good, strong runner. Yet the air seemed thick and heavy. It was
difficult to breathe. Her chest grew tight. She was panicking too much. Would she have an asthma attack? She hadn
’
t had one in years, not since she was twelve.

Hillary
’
s long legs launched her forward at
a
rapid speed. Each long stride got her closer to Laura. She could hear her footsteps, her panting.