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“You have to understand,” Kyle says, “that I can’t just have some hick fucking my wife. You do understand that, don’t you, Mr. Bishop? Yeah…sure you do.”
He hits me again and again. Max continues to wrench my arms behind my back to the point where my shoulder is about to be dislocated, and Kyle just keeps pummeling me.
“You have no idea what kind of woman you’re dealing with here.” Kyle shakes his head before he punches me in the gut again. “I’m doing you a favor. You don’t know the truth about Iris.”
I force cold air into my lungs, shuddering when I let it out again. I look up into his eyes.
“Honestly,” I tell him, “I’d rather know the truth about Seri.”
“Seri?” He narrows his eyes and tilts his head as he looks at me. “Seri, as in Serenity? Iris’s kid sister? What does Seri have to do with this?”
I suddenly realize that Kyle has no idea. Seri came after he tried to kill Iris, so he would have no knowledge of her, but Netti was around before then. Is it possible? Could this guy not know about Netti at all? Could Iris have been married to him, and he never understood that she was more than one person?
He wants me to know the truth about Iris when, in fact, he knows nothing.
I laugh out loud, and he rewards me with another punch to the head. This time, Max lets go of my arms, and I drop to the ground with the side of my face in the snow. I cough hard, and blood spatters the snow in front of me. My ears are ringing, and though I know Kyle and Max are talking, I can’t hear what they’re saying. I do see Kyle kneel down and grab my hunting knife.
I squeeze my eyes shut for a moment, and my mind tries to go dark. I bite down on my tongue—I can’t let myself lose consciousness. When I open my eyes again, Max is standing just a few feet away with his back toward me, and Kyle is walking toward the cabin with my knife in his hand.
I know exactly what he’s going to do, and a rush of adrenaline follows the panic. I have to move. I have to move now.
My Sig is just a few feet away, inside the pocket of my parka, which is lying next to the barn door. As Max watches Kyle approach the cabin, I claw at the ground and drag myself to it. Max turns toward me just as I reach into the pocket and pull out the weapon. When he rushes me, there is no time to think.
I roll to my back and fire with no time to aim. The blasts deafen me. I pull the trigger over and over, and Max falls at my feet. A pool of blood begins to form around his lifeless body, but I keep pulling the trigger.
My heart is pounding in my chest, and I’m panting. The gun is making a loud clicking sound each time I move my index finger, and it takes me a moment to realize it’s out of bullets and I’m still trying to fire it.
I drop the weapon and roll to my stomach. Blood drips from my nose onto the snow as I try to push myself to my feet and fail. I cry out as the agony from my leg drowns out the pain from my stomach and head. For a moment, I concentrate on calming my breathing.
From the direction of the cabin, I hear screaming.
I try to stand again, but I fall. Looking toward the cabin, I see no sign of Kyle, and I know he must be inside. He’s inside with Seri and Iris and Netti, and he’s already tried to kill them once.
Focus.
My hands are shaking. I’m not sure if it’s from the cold or the pain. I dare to look down at my right leg, but I can’t see anything except blood through the tear in my thick, insulated pants. I’m certain a chunk of wood is embedded in the muscle. I shift my leg slightly as pain shoots from my ankle to my hip.
That doesn’t matter.
Bile invades the back of my throat as images of my mother flash through my throbbing head. I can’t pay any attention to the pain—not now. I have to focus. I have to get up. I can’t let him get to her.
She’s going to die.
I grit my teeth and push again.
Slowly, I get myself to my hands and knees and then to my feet. The gun is useless unless I retrieve more ammo from inside the cabin, but I shove it into my jeans anyway and limp over to the barn. I struggle to reach around the door and grab the axe from its hook. When I can feel the handle, I seize it.
A dozen images invade my head. I remember how it felt to pull the axe from the wall of the shed at my parents’ house and how my hands got sweaty when I gripped it, waiting for him. I remember how it started to slip from my grasp, slick with my father’s blood.
I swallow past the lump in my throat. I’m breathing too fast, and the cold in my lungs is nearly unbearable, but I can’t let myself be distracted by that. I grip the axe a little tighter.
I know what to do with this.
I gasp as pain races up my leg again, then steel myself against the feeling as I move as quickly as I can for the cabin. The cold penetrates my body, numbing the pain in my leg but also making it harder to move. I should have grabbed my parka, but all I can think about is getting to Iris as quickly as possible. As I approach, I hear another scream—this time from Kyle. A second later, Iris runs out the door, barefoot in the snow, with Kyle on her heels.
I’m still a hundred yards away, moving as fast as I possibly can, but I can’t get to her before he does. He jumps, grabbing Iris’s ankles and tackling her to the ground. Iris rolls to her back as he comes at her, bracing herself with one hand on the icy ground as she raises the other in front of her. I can see something in her hand, but I can’t tell what it is. As Kyle lands on top of her, I hear his scream.
My moment of elation is short-lived, and my heart stops as I watch Kyle raise my hunting knife in the air before bringing it down in an arc. Iris’s choking scream is drowned out by my own cry as I race to both of them and swing the axe at Kyle’s head.
