The Killer’s New Obsession by B.B. Hamel
Irene
The Healy safe house was tucked away down a quiet West Philly street on the edge of the University of Pennsylvania’s campus. It looked like any other college house, except the front was clean and there weren’t any beer cans next to the curb out front.
“We’re waiting on Anna’s signal,” Cam said, squinting into the rearview mirror. Behind us, a couple more cars pulled up and parked in empty spots.
The last week was a rush of activity. The Don wasn’t happy about letting the girls use his back yard, but he accepted that it was a worthwhile risk. Bea seemed delighted though, and when the gaggle of awkward-looking and supremely uncomfortable young ladies appeared in a series of cabs, Bea brought them all inside, made them all tea, and fed them lunch.
Then Cam took them out back and spent the entire day teaching them to shoot.
They were better than he expected, or at least I thought so. The girls could aim down field and some of them hit the target. But the fact that they showed up at all, risking their lives to do so, was the most impressive thing.
Sasha didn’t want to wait long before we made a move, but Cam wasn’t ready to commit the whole group yet.
Which was why we sat outside of a single Healy safe house in the middle of the night.
Lights flashed down the block. A car turned on its high beams then turned them off.
“That’s it,” Cam said and put a hand on my leg. “You should stay here.”
“No,” I said. “I have a gift for Ronan. And anyway, if they’re going, I’m going.”
He wanted to argue, I knew he did, but shadows moved along the sidewalk and there was no time. He stepped out and joined them, and I jumped out the passenger side and fell in next to Sasha in the back of the group.
Cam led the way. Anna came next, then Linc, then the sisters, Lara and Vera, then Sasha and me. I had a bag slung over my arm, and my heart felt like it might explode out of my chest. My mouth was dry, and my skin crawled, and all I wanted to do was run back to the car, but I was committed to this. If these girls could risk their lives, then I could too.
Although I was going to stay in the back.
Cam jumped up the front stoop and smashed in the front window with the butt of his gun. Anna took a long cannister from the pouch of her black hoodie, ripped off a tab, and threw it inside.
Something popped and hissed, and smoke began to curl back out through the broken window.
Someone shouted inside. There was confusion, more shouting. “Fire!” someone said, and someone else yelled, “Smoke! Where’s the fucking fire?”
Cam pressed himself next to the peeling black door and pulled out his gun. The others did the same and he held a hand up for them to wait.
Sasha had a manic grin on her face.
“Fuck the smoke’s everywhere,” someone said right in front of the window. He coughed and gagged. “Get the front door open. What the hell is happening? Is this fucking window broken?”
The door unlocked and opened a crack. “I don’t know, boss, might’ve been—”
Cam kicked it as hard as he could and the edge smashed into someone’s face. The guy dropped backwards into the dark safe house, and Cam went in gun up. Shots fired off and I ducked down, covering my head, as Sasha barreled forward followed by Linc and Anna. The sisters went in last.
More gunshots burst out. The flashes of their muzzles were like camera bulbs, but their roar was like the explosion of fireworks right next to my face. I stayed out front, too afraid to go inside during the fighting, but I heard the yells—pained screams, all male voices, and one angry female cursing up a storm like a wild banshee.
Then the shooting stopped as abruptly as it started.
I stood up breathing hard, gasping to get air in my lungs. I stepped inside and right into a pool of blood. I groaned, wiping my shoe on the scuffed hardwood floor, and walked over the body.
The house was in bad shape. The walls were scuffed black and marked all over, the white paint flaking off in patches. Water stains covered the ceiling. The furniture was mismatched, a combination of rotten, trash-picked couches and ancient chairs missing their stuffing. Bullet holes riddled the walls, and the place smelled like burning logs and sulfur.
There were two dead guys in the living room and smoke was everywhere. “Cam?” I said. “Where are you?”
Then a figure emerged from a door up ahead. I raised my hands—but it was Sasha. “Come on,” Sasha said, grabbing my arm. She was grinning like she just won the lottery. She seemed to glow with a wild, manic inner joy. She had on tight jeans and a tight shirt, and looked like a warrior with her hair slicked back. “I killed a guy!” she said like she was announcing her love for a pop star.
“Good for you,” I said, dizzy. She led me into a kitchen smeared with blood. Pots and pans filled the sink and one cabinet hung loose by a single hinge. The floor was tile and cracked in places, and the countertop looked like it had a perpetual film of slime over the top.
The sisters stood over a guy that was groaning on the floor, both of them pointing their guns. Cam and Linc were in some other room.
“What should we do with this one?” Lara asked.
“Kill him, I think,” Vera said.
“Please don’t,” the guy said. He was young, smooth face, big gold crucifix around his neck. He was shirtless and wore a pair of baggy jeans. His leg bled from a hole in his thigh. “Please, I’m sorry.”
“Doesn’t seem sorry,” Lara said.
“Not sorry at all.” Vera pressed her gun against his head.
“Enough fucking around,” Cam said, storming into the room.
Vera pulled the trigger. The guy’s head snapped back as he crumpled back to the floor.
“Cam,” I said, relief flooding me. I went to him and threw my arms around his body. I felt something sticky—blood on his clothes. “Are you okay?”
He nodded. “Not my blood,” he said and gently moved me back. “You got the sticks?”
I dropped the bag I’d brought with me down on the cheap, peeling linoleum table, and dumped it over. Several USB sticks clattered out. “Now he’ll know,” I said and looked at Cam. “And he won’t be happy.”
“Good,” Cam said. “Fuck him. Everyone ready?” He looked around. “Where’s Linc?”
“Upstairs.” Anna’s voice from the hallway. “Stealing money.”
“Good for him,” Cam said. “Come on, ladies, let’s go.”
Sasha grabbed my arm like a teenager at a dance and tugged me along. The sisters followed, laughing with each other. I felt surreal, and the blood and bodies did nothing to make me more grounded. These girls were acting like they just watched some fun movie and wanted to chat about it, instead of having just broken into a mafia safe house and murdered a bunch of men.
Linc came down the steps and joined Anna with a big bag slung over a shoulder. “Bonus,” he said, grinning.
The whole group stepped out into the night. Linc and the others hurried down the sidewalk, back to their respective cars, and Cam jumped behind the wheel of his. I hesitated, looking back at the house.
“Irene,” Cam said. “We’ve gotta go.”
“They seemed so happy,” I said, glancing back at him. “You saw them, right? They were excited to kill those guys.”
“I know,” he said. “But imagine how they feel. Now come on, get in.”
The sound of sirens in the distance snapped me out of it. Gunshots probably didn’t go off this close to campus very often and someone must’ve called the cops right away. I jumped into the car and Cam sped off.
I turned around and watched the house disappear. Two other cars pulled out and turned in different directions: the others scattering across the city. I sat back down and chewed on my lip, thinking back to the blood, the bodies, and Sasha’s giddy smile.
“Was that what you wanted?” I asked softly and my voice sounded like it came from somewhere else.
“Exactly what I wanted,” he admitted. He glanced at me, but didn’t comment on what he saw. “We had to test them. You understand that, right?”
“I know,” I said, not looking at him. I didn’t hold it against him and didn’t even blame him. Sasha was eager to go fight and Anna said the others were ready, and she was right—the sisters did their job and nobody got hurt. Except for the Healy men, at least.
But it still felt all wrong, the death, the blood. I hated that the world had to be this way, that these girls had to kill for their freedom. If I could take them from their chains and give them a fresh start, I would do it without hesitating, but I knew that wasn’t my decision to make. I knew I didn’t have that power.
Cam did what he could, and the guns and the money were more than anyone else ever gave them.
“But you’re still worried,” he said.
“I’m worried,” I admitted. “About what’ll happen when the time comes. And what’ll happen after.”
“After?” he asked. “We’ll let them go. Let them keep the guns and the cash. They’ll be free. They’ll start over.”
“I hope so,” I said, shaking my head. “But after what they’re going to have to do to get that freedom, I’m afraid they won’t be the same.” I was quiet for a second then felt his hand reach out and take mine.
I squeezed his strong, rough fingers.
“Like you’re not the same?” he asked.
“Just like that,” I said, looking at his handsome, serious face. “After living out on the street, I won’t ever be able to go back to the way I was before. You know that, right?”
“I know,” he said, frowning slightly. “I hoped I could get you close, though.”
“You are,” I said, lifting his hand up to my lips. I kissed his fingertips, one at a time. “But I don’t want these girls to do through what I’m going through.”
“They’ll have to, no matter what,” he said. “They’ve already been hurt. Now they can get a chance to do the hurting for once.”
I laughed and nodded. I held his hand against the center console and stared out at the city as it flashed past. He was right, they’d already been hurt.
And now, they’d kill because of it.
