“I won’t. I’ll never let go.”
From behind us we hear the crashing sounds of Brad entering the forest. Raven cuts a quick look back and points for us to head left, so we can get to the other side of the trail. Maybe he’ll lose us in the confusion. I squeeze her hand as we press further and just hope we can get to safety before he catches up to us. I want to call for help, I want to scream, but I know it will only let him know exactly where we are.
As we are running, I suddenly trip over something. I let out a surprised yelp as I crash hard to the ground. Raven darts back over to pick me up, but it’s too late. Brad heard us and he’s on his way.
She gets me to my feet and we keep running but by now Brad is closer than ever. I can hear his footsteps chasing us, stalking us, ready to kill us both.
We take another right and stumble out into a clearing. The white snow reflecting under the moon gives the place an eerie glow. Raven and I make our way to the other side of the clearing and Brad is hot on her heels. He screams in pure rage; it echoes into the night.
Before I know it, he’s on me. I feel Raven’s fingers slip from mine and I know I’m about to die. But I didn’t let go. I promised I would never let go.
His arm swings down and I slam my eyes shut. I don’t want to watch it. I hold my hands up, but the pain never comes as I’m knocked back, and I stumble a few steps.
“That’s what you get, you stupid bitch!” Brad yells out. I open my eyes to see my sister standing in front of me, as Brad has her by the hair, slamming his fist into her stomach, but I know it’s not just his fist. It’s the knife. He lifts his hand back up and plunges the knife back down, again and again, and all I can do is stand there and watch, utterly silent.
She hasn’t even made a noise. She didn’t even scream; she didn’t yell. She was the one who let go, and she did it to save me. Her eyes are just wide as she gasps for breaths, choking on her own blood. Blood, thick and dark, is running through her sweatshirt. I scramble backward, knowing if I don’t get away now, I’ll be next.
The snow around us blooms with her blood. The red is so dark against the pure white. It’s haunting as it starts to melt the snow, turning it into puddles of red-brown mush. It’s so much blood. It’s all coming out so fast, and I don’t know how to stop it.
“Raven?” I finally whisper.
After what feels like an eternity, she locks her eyes on me. Everything is moving in slow motion.
“Love… you…” she manages as her body convulses. And then the light fades from her eyes.
And Brad turns toward me.
I scream at the top of my lungs and dart away. “Raven!” I scream. “I’ll get help. I’ll get help.” But I already know it’s too late.
I’m somehow able to escape the clearing before Brad finishes killing my sister. Tears are rolling down my face and my entire body is convulsing. I wipe my nose and face on my hoodie as I break out of the woods to the other side of the trail, gasping for breath around my blood-curdling screams. “Help me! Someone! He’s trying to kill me! Help!”
At the very top of the hill is a large house. It’s so late that the lights are all off but as I approach, screaming at the top of my lungs, they turn on. A bunch of big, tough-looking guys storm out the front door and surround the house. In my terror, I don’t even care who they are. Anything has to be better than Brad.
The biggest one sees me and runs up to me as I dart out of the woods. I realize I’m still screaming and he wraps me up in a bear hug.
“Kid, calm down. Kid. You need to listen to me,” he says. But all I can do is yell.
“My sister! Raven! He killed Raven!”
The guy motions to the others to check out the forest while he takes me back to the house. I writhe and pull at him, but I’m exhausted and I’m too weak. He holds me still, but I’m still screaming.
“Listen, kid. You’ve gotta come inside. What’s going on?”
My mind is finally starting to catch up with me and I’m able to at least choke out a few words through heavy breaths.
“A guy—he’s—ah—he’s chasing me. He killed my sister. Please. I need help.”
I sniffle again and wipe away the snot with the sleeve of my hoodie. The man pulls away and places both hands on my shoulders. He looks me straight in the eye.
“You’re safe here, kid. What’s your name?”
“J-Jason,” I tell him through tears.
“Nice to meet you, Jason. I’m Fate. I’m with the Royal Bastards Motorcycle Club. I promise you’re safe here. Lock the door behind you and don’t answer if it’s anyone but me.”
He stands up and makes for the front door and I follow him.
“Where are you going?” I ask. “He’s out there!”
“Lock the door, kid. Don’t worry about me.”
Fate closes the door behind him and I do what he says, throwing the lock. I collapse to my knees and finally feel the exhaustion overwhelming me. My sobs wrench my body, and I curl up on the ground in a fetal position as darkness clouds the edge of my vision.
I close my eyes and I can still see her smiling face. I can see her long black hair, her dark brown eyes, hear the sound of her laughter in the wind.
Raven…
“Raven!”
I wake up in a cold sweat, yelling out my sister’s name into the dark. The dream always ends the same, no matter how many times I’ve had it: with me feeling worthless for not being able to stop him that night. For not saving her life. What if I’d stayed home that night? Would she still be alive? I have the think the answer is no, even when my heart won’t accept that. Fate made sure I knew the honest answer. He drilled it into me when it felt like my world was crashing down around me. I have to remind myself that she would’ve died out in the snow alone if I hadn’t begged to go along. At least I was able to be there for her in her last moments.
The nightmares always come in late December, near the anniversary of her murder. Every single detail replays in my mind like some twisted movie that I can’t shut off.
I grumble and get out from the covers. There’s no point in trying to go back to sleep. I change out of my sweaty clothes, throwing on yesterday’s jeans and a t-shirt. I walk into my office, which is attached to my room, and flip on the switch, wondering idly if I’ve lost my mind looking at the organized chaos waiting for me in there.
Ever since shit went down with Delilah, Thrasher’s ol’ lady, I’ve been keeping an eye on a serial killer that seems to be operating in the Pacific Northwest. More and more bodies have been turning up, frozen and mutilated. It makes me sick.
It’s almost turned into a shrine for this guy’s twisted game with all his victims, with their pictures spread out over the wall before they ended up in his hands and what they looked like after. It fuels me to find a way to catch him. Their bodies were mangled by his brutal and ruthless hands, having no mercy for his prey. It’s a morbid connect-the-dots on where he might have started and where he could be going next. I have string connecting to the map, showing where the victims were found, with little tag numbers showing which number victims they were, or at least our best guess as there are so many now.