Page 89 of Overkill

“You just had a breakup in the middle of a fucking crowded parking lot with the out-of-towner! Ha! And everyone thinks it’s your fault. It is your fault! Ha!”

My smug smile melted away.

“No one will be surprised if you fling yourself off a bridge, so I’m just going to help you live up to their expectations.” His smile disappeared with a speed that was psychopathic. “Get in the water.”

I looked at the water, where the waves of the roaring current turned white as they flowed back into the town at the base of the valley.

“No.” I would die.

Some day.

But not today.

I hadn’t survived Luke just to be killed by the teenage mutant, discount version of him.

Ian fired, but the shot hit a tree. As if responding, the sky cracked with another thunderbolt that landed on the other side of the lake. It was close enough that I felt the vibrations in my feet, in my ribs, and in my heart.

“Get in the water!” His voice squeaked as he yelled. Just a boy. An idiot, murderous boy.

I would murder him, too. If I’m going down, I would take him down with me.

When I had nothing left, I had pettiness. It wouldn’t save me, but it was a nice silver lining.

“No.”

“GET IN THE WATER!” Ian’s feet squishing and sloshing. Grabbing my elbow, he waved the pistol while I bobbed and weaved to avoid getting hit by the damn barrel.

“Are you a fucking moron?” I squealed as he pushed me towards a cliff. Its edge had already begun washing away with the river’s fast rhythm.

“YOU! YOU ARE THE MORON!”

“I know you are, but what am I?” I snarked as we both hovered too close to the ledge. I reached out and clutched his collar. “If I go down, I’m taking you with me.”

“You bitch!” He screamed. “Just die!”

“No!” I twisted until I grabbed the wrist of his gun arm, pointing it away from us. He pulled the trigger. It fired into the ground, the force of the shot tipping him off balance. Ian fumbled and whimpered, unsteady on one foot as he kicked the other, trying to right himself.

I helped.

Pushing as he tipped like a teetering chair on two legs, just on the cusp of falling. He grabbed me, pulling himself up, or pulling me over. One or the other…

The sheer terror in his eyes when I started cackling was absolutely delicious. Even on the edge of the precipice, my own legs unsteady, my body struggling to stay upright and not fall over, I could relish in his fear as he hovered, shaking, teetering over the abyss.

Lights, thunder, flashes of light, faster and faster.

The light didn’t die with the thunder.

Headlights.

They swept over us as two car engines rumbled, their doors opening.

“Die!” Ian screamed.

“You first, you chicken shit!”

It was him or Marc. Him or Miriam.

An easy choice.