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“You’re okay. I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”
He held me tight and rocked me back and forth in his arms. I wanted to scream the house down. I wanted to go on stabbing. White noise was blaring in my ears.
I felt Uncle Kristian look toward the door and realized that every second he spent with me was a second longer the other men were hurting my family. I pulled myself from his arms and pushed against his chest. “Go help them.”
Uncle Kristian took my face in my hands and peered desperately at me. “Are you okay? Are you sure? Did he hurt you?” Realizing I was half naked, he pulled a blanket from my bed around me.
I nodded quickly. I didn’t want to scream anymore.
I wanted revenge.
Over the years, I’d heard whispers about the sorts of things my uncle was capable of, and now I was going to get to see it for myself. “Can I help you kill them?”
He stared at me in surprise. Then a slow smile spread over his face. “Please, dandelion. You’ve already claimed one kill. Give me a chance to catch up.”
He planted a kiss on my nose and sauntered toward the door. I pulled my shorts back on, peered around the doorframe and watched him enter the room where Chessa was screaming.
The noises changed after that. Soon it was the men who were pleading for their lives.
I dashed out of my room and gathered all my brothers and sisters into the farthest bedroom, which belonged to Chessa’s sons, Felix and Noah.
Lana stared at my blood-soaked pajamas and burst into tears. “She’s bleeding. Zenya’s dying.”
“It’s not my blood. I’m all right.”
I went back to the door and watched what was happening. One by one, Uncle Kristian dragged our tied-up attackers out of the master bedroom and roughly downstairs. He saw me watching and winked at me.
When Uncle Kristian was finished and he told me I could go in, I went to the master bedroom to find Chessa untying Dad. She’d pulled on a dressing gown. Her hair was in tangles and she was trembling. Tears and blood streaked her face.
When she saw me, she started crying harder. “Baby girl, did they hurt you too?”
I shook my head and explained that there was a dead man in my room and all the kids were safe down the hall in Felix and Noah’s bedroom.
Dad was bleeding a lot from a cut on his arm and I helped Chessa clean him up and got the first aid kit. Chessa had been a nurse, and she wanted to give him stitches, but her hands were shaking so hard she couldn’t do it. Every time there was a blood-curdling scream from downstairs, she jumped. In the end, she told me how to put in the stitches and I sewed up Dad’s arm.
“What’s Uncle Kristian doing?” I asked as I worked.
“Finding out who those men are,” Dad said through gritted teeth. Chessa had needles but no anesthetic.
I heard the unmistakable sound of a power drill, and then a man’s piercing scream.
Dad finally managed a bitter smile. “It shouldn’t take him too long.”
But Dad was wrong. The screaming went on for hours, long after I finished with the stitches, and we all went to join the kids in Felix and Noah’s room. Chessa handed out earplugs but I shook my head. I wanted to listen to our attackers’ screams. Every single one made me burn with triumph and pride in Uncle Kristian.
Then it wasn’t enough just to listen. I wanted to see.
While Chessa and Dad were distracted, I crept away and sat on the stairs, watching the scene of carnage in the living room below.
Four men were tied to chairs, their bodies slumped and blood oozing from dozens of wounds. Uncle Kristian was in their midst, his face, chest, and hands red with blood, and he stood next to a gory pile of knives, garden implements, and power tools. He sorted through them, picked up a pair of pliers and a buzz saw, and turned toward the nearest man who was conscious.
The men cried.
They screamed and begged.
Uncle Kristian was intent on inflicting as much pain as possible on them and didn’t say a word. All the blinds were drawn, but the room slowly lightened as the sun came up. Uncle Kristian glanced toward the windows and then disappeared into the kitchen.
He was back a moment later and put plastic bags over each of the men’s heads and tied them tight with twine.
