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Then I take a picture for Jake once the life finally leaves the sheriff’s eyes.
Just to be sure, I check for a pulse. It’s gone. Then, to be doubly sure, I slice the knife across his throat, leaving his blood to continue to drain.
I wipe the knife off again, place it back in its sheath on my hip, pull my hood up, and walk out with my phone still playing that song.
The town is like an old western ghost town now. I half expect tumbleweeds to start rolling by me as the wind blows. The sun is three hours from setting, but the endgame is moments away from starting.
Everyone expects sundown to be the endgame time, since that’s what we told them.
But we have another set of rules we’re playing by.
And we’re ready.
Jake is already in my old house when I step inside the familiar home. This house is in the perfect location.
My heart thumps a little faster when I see the inside, because it’s like stepping into a different vortex. No pictures of us line the walls the way they used to.
The carpet has been replaced with hardwood. The blues have all been replaced with neutral colors. And they knocked out the wall between the living room and kitchen.
Everything is different, yet there’s a pang of familiarity in my chest.
He’s put in all his monitors, ready to start this process.
“You took longer than you were supposed to,” Jake says as I step in and strip out of my hoodie.
“I shot the sheriff,” I start singing, and he grins.
“Time to shoot the deputies.”
I strip out of my clothes, and start pulling on my kill clothes. I can’t wear a baggy hoody or restricting pants. This is the ultimate kill zone.
“Phase nine complete?” I ask him.
“As soon as you step into the middle of town, all I have to do is press a button. The next button gets pressed when you step inside. Then you’re on your own. You know the charges are set; you know the small window you have to get out; and you know to keep your head down. Don’t get killed on a part we could skip.”
I tug on my leggings, making sure to do the splits and double check their flexibility.
Jake watches me grimly.
“I’m not skipping this part, Jake. They need to feel the same fear. Just dying isn’t good enough. And risking someone surviving isn’t any good either.”
He blows out a breath as I grab my tank top, ready to brave the chilly air while being sleeveless. I’ll warm up once I start fighting.
After getting my boots back on, I grab the bulletproof vest that is thinner and less constricting than most—thank you, Jake.
Then I start packing in all the weapons into my many holsters, and use the action game assembly Jake has laid out.
“I’m having a moment,” Jake says, biting down on his knuckle as I finish loading the last of the weapons into their designated spots on my body harness.
“What?” I ask, arching an eyebrow.
“Times like these remind me why I can’t give up women. Something about a girl with a gun, and right now, you’re every nerd’s comic-book-sexy fantasy girl.”
I roll my eyes.
“Seriously! The tight pants, all the guns, the sleeveless shirt—”
“All meant for functionality,” I state dryly.
