that we would be at the hospital soon.
By the time I got to North Bay’s hospital, I had enough strength back to ask what happened. The paramedic said an officer would be by later.
As promised, the same cop who’d taken our statement about the bikers came to my hospital room.
I was dazed, reeling from what had happened. I hadn’t talked to Tabby yet either. I needed to know if she was okay.
I asked myself, was it real, or did I dream it all? Each time I asked myself that, I realized that it wasn’t a dream. It couldn’t have been.
What happened to everyone else, then? What room were they in? Had Scott really died?
The cop removed his hat and looked down at his shoes.
“I’m sorry we didn’t get there sooner.” He lifted his head back up and stepped closer to the bed. “They had police scanners. They heard the call to come out to your cabin to take your statement, and they followed us. That’s how they knew where you were.”
I motioned for him to continue. “Where. Are. My. Friends?”
“I’m sorry. Scott was shot.”
“Tabitha?”
“She was found by the water.”
I frowned, saying as best as I could with my face, what does that mean?
“They had done things to her that I can’t talk about. She’s dead. I’m sorry.”
My eyes watered. Why did I deserve to live? How could I move on? I couldn’t protect her when she needed me the most. I wasn’t there for her. This all started because I was a hothead at the liquor store.
“The other girl is being hailed a hero,” the cop continued. “She got behind the wheel of the Jeep and instead of leaving, she turned the vehicle toward the water and drove over all three men. They were crushed and drowned under the Jeep’s wheels. Problem was, she had rolled up the windows and locked the doors to stay protected. As the Jeep sank, she couldn’t get out. I’m sorry. Everyone died but you.” He paused and put his hat on again. “Maybe tomorrow, when you’re feeling better, you can tell me your side of the story. Like, why did they leave you alive? I’ll come by later.”
He stepped out of the room, closing the door behind him. I was alone, truly alone. I had died that day, and wanted nothing more than to die again. It was all my fault.
Since that day, I’ve quit school. I left my job and now I travel state to state, hunting Vago’s bikers. Their club’s numbers are getting smaller, one by one. I’ve killed eighteen so far. Each one, I slice their throat. Each one, I violate in some inhumane way as they did to Tabitha. And to each one I whisper, “For Tabitha” in their ears as they struggle for their last breath.
Until I die, which I could care less about, I will continue to hunt bikers. If I’m ever caught and go to jail, I’ll kill them in prison. My hands are weapons now, they’re lethal. Nothing has stopped me yet. I’ve been stabbed, shot and beaten to within an inch of my life, but you know what stops them from killing me? Fear, which is something I don’t have anymore. That’s their weakness.
I had no idea that dying would save my life but kill me in the process.
The Reaper
The day had finally come to kill. To remove a soul. What I do is a form of cleansing. I take great pleasure in easing the world of the souls that burden it. The only problem is, each soul has to be worked and—after eight years on this one—I need to move on. I’m old, tired and ready to hand off some of my responsibilities to the younger generation. But first I have to continue the ruse. What’s one more hour in the life of someone as old as me?
“What bothers me,” I started, “is our own child doesn’t like us using the name we gave him.” I turned around in my seat to glance at my sleeping son, my little reaper, Jacob. Or Mark , as he would rather be called.
“I know, honey, but all we can do is continue on to Novar and prove to him that what he’s
By the time I got to North Bay’s hospital, I had enough strength back to ask what happened. The paramedic said an officer would be by later.
As promised, the same cop who’d taken our statement about the bikers came to my hospital room.
I was dazed, reeling from what had happened. I hadn’t talked to Tabby yet either. I needed to know if she was okay.
I asked myself, was it real, or did I dream it all? Each time I asked myself that, I realized that it wasn’t a dream. It couldn’t have been.
What happened to everyone else, then? What room were they in? Had Scott really died?
The cop removed his hat and looked down at his shoes.
“I’m sorry we didn’t get there sooner.” He lifted his head back up and stepped closer to the bed. “They had police scanners. They heard the call to come out to your cabin to take your statement, and they followed us. That’s how they knew where you were.”
I motioned for him to continue. “Where. Are. My. Friends?”
“I’m sorry. Scott was shot.”
“Tabitha?”
“She was found by the water.”
I frowned, saying as best as I could with my face, what does that mean?
“They had done things to her that I can’t talk about. She’s dead. I’m sorry.”
My eyes watered. Why did I deserve to live? How could I move on? I couldn’t protect her when she needed me the most. I wasn’t there for her. This all started because I was a hothead at the liquor store.
“The other girl is being hailed a hero,” the cop continued. “She got behind the wheel of the Jeep and instead of leaving, she turned the vehicle toward the water and drove over all three men. They were crushed and drowned under the Jeep’s wheels. Problem was, she had rolled up the windows and locked the doors to stay protected. As the Jeep sank, she couldn’t get out. I’m sorry. Everyone died but you.” He paused and put his hat on again. “Maybe tomorrow, when you’re feeling better, you can tell me your side of the story. Like, why did they leave you alive? I’ll come by later.”
He stepped out of the room, closing the door behind him. I was alone, truly alone. I had died that day, and wanted nothing more than to die again. It was all my fault.
Since that day, I’ve quit school. I left my job and now I travel state to state, hunting Vago’s bikers. Their club’s numbers are getting smaller, one by one. I’ve killed eighteen so far. Each one, I slice their throat. Each one, I violate in some inhumane way as they did to Tabitha. And to each one I whisper, “For Tabitha” in their ears as they struggle for their last breath.
Until I die, which I could care less about, I will continue to hunt bikers. If I’m ever caught and go to jail, I’ll kill them in prison. My hands are weapons now, they’re lethal. Nothing has stopped me yet. I’ve been stabbed, shot and beaten to within an inch of my life, but you know what stops them from killing me? Fear, which is something I don’t have anymore. That’s their weakness.
I had no idea that dying would save my life but kill me in the process.
The Reaper
The day had finally come to kill. To remove a soul. What I do is a form of cleansing. I take great pleasure in easing the world of the souls that burden it. The only problem is, each soul has to be worked and—after eight years on this one—I need to move on. I’m old, tired and ready to hand off some of my responsibilities to the younger generation. But first I have to continue the ruse. What’s one more hour in the life of someone as old as me?
“What bothers me,” I started, “is our own child doesn’t like us using the name we gave him.” I turned around in my seat to glance at my sleeping son, my little reaper, Jacob. Or Mark , as he would rather be called.
“I know, honey, but all we can do is continue on to Novar and prove to him that what he’s
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