Put Me Back Together (38 page)

“I killed that kid because you asked me to,” Brandon said, his voice dead calm.

That did it. Those words. It was the first time I’d heard him admit to it out loud and it woke something up in me.

This was Tommy’s killer. I was face-to-face with him. There was nobody around.

He’s going to kill me
, I thought, amazed that it had taken me this long for the thought to enter my frantic mind.
Unless…

“Oh, cut the crap, Brandon,” I snapped. “We both know that’s not true.” Those burning eyes flared again and I took a step to the left. I needed to get away from the wall of the building and onto the path. I needed to be as clever as Lucas said I was. I needed a plan.

“You’re telling me to cut the crap?” Brandon said. He smiled, and this time it seemed genuine—until I saw the knife in his hand. One look at that knife and any plan I’d been putting together went right out the window. “Why don’t you say it again?”

I ran.

Right away I knew I’d taken the wrong path. If I’d turned left around the side of Ontario Hall I would have reached the street in a minute, but instead I went straight on the path that went behind the library. I was aiming for Union Street where I could see a car pulled over and several people getting in. I should have screamed right away, but all I could see was red and all I could think was,
Run
. I could hear the thudding of his boots as he came running after me, both of us pushing against the wind that seemed to want to hold us back.
Run, run, run!
By the time I opened my mouth, the car doors were already slamming shut and I was still ten feet away.

“Wait, I—” I called out before he clamped his hand over my mouth, the rest of my words drowned out by my high-pitched scream.

He pulled me tight against him, yanking me backwards until we were hidden behind one of the building’s ornamental buttresses.

He panted into my ear, his breath and body giving off a smell of dirt. It was as though he’d literally just slithered out of a hole in the ground.

His other arm was locked around my middle and I struggled hard against it. Then he raised his hand and the knife glinted in the light from the streetlamp and I fell still, my eyes following the blade. It wasn’t the same knife. I knew it couldn’t be. But it looked just like it, right down to the colour of the wooden handle. For a moment I imagined I saw a smear of blood across the blade and wondered if it was Tommy’s.

“Tell me, Katie,” Brandon rasped into my ear, “what was it like waking up to find Tommy’s body? I’ve always wanted to know. I couldn’t watch, of course. I had to disappear. But I wish I could have been there to see you discover my present.”

I closed my eyes in disgust. The smell of dirt got stronger, filling my nose and mouth, pressing into my throat. Then I realized it wasn’t dirt I was smelling at all. It was the smell of the woods.

I open my eyes to the fireflies. They swim across my vision, their blinking lights making me think of flashlights bobbing through the trees, of rescue. But there is no one coming.

Pushing myself up on my knees, I feel warm wetness running down my face and wipe it away. It’s too dark for me to see my own blood. I can’t see anything at all except the fireflies. I can’t hear anything but my own hectic breathing, and that’s how I know I’m alone.

I need to find Tommy.

Swaying on my feet and stumbling repeatedly, I walk down the tracks in the direction I think will take me to the street. I’ll get some help and come back. I’ll bring the police and those huge spotlights. I’ll bring dogs and helicopters. I’ll find Tommy. I’ll find him in time.

I throw up once, then again. I’m off balance and my right arm feels weirdly heavy, but I ignore all this. I know I have to keep moving. I have to get help.

Then I slip in something slick and fall on my knees, gasping loudly. A rail cuts into my shin. I move my hand and it sinks into something I cannot describe. Something wet and a little gooey. Something that was warm a little while ago. Something I don’t understand until my fingers run over the long, soft fur and I realize it’s not fur at all. It’s his
hair
.

As I run I scream his name.

I whimpered and kicked at Brandon with my feet, wrenching against his grip even as he pressed the blade to my cheek. I needed to get away from him and his smell. I needed to get away from that night more than anything.

“What was it like going to school and walking the halls, everyone feeling sorry for you, when you knew you were to blame? And on TV, watching me get labelled the Kindergarten Killer when you knew, you knew…”

He pressed the tip of the knife into my cheek, twisting it ever so slightly, and I felt it break the skin. His hand smothered my screams.

“What was it like to get away with it, Katie Kat? Tell me, because I’ll never know. Did it feel like this?” He moved the knife to the other cheek and again I felt the blade twisting, cutting. My blood was running down my neck. I could smell it.

“Or like this?” The knife disappeared and instead I felt his clumsy fingers groping at my breast, a hard and cruel jab that felt nothing like Lucas’s gentle hands. The revulsion that wracked my body snapped me back into the present, and the same instinct that had taken over that day so long ago took over once more: animal fear.

I sank my teeth into his hand.

He howled and released my mouth, but unlike that fateful day six years ago, he didn’t let me go. I guessed that was a lesson he didn’t need to learn twice. His right arm held me around my ribs with a brutal strength that terrified me more than the knife. If he could hold a full-grown woman with just one arm, what could he do with two?

“Hel—” I cried, but again my plea was cut off when he grabbed my entire face with the hand I’d just bitten, smearing his blood across my nose and mouth. He pressed his palm so hard into my face that for a moment I couldn’t breathe.

Then he said a single word into my ear before shoving me roughly to the side, releasing his hold on me. My hair whipped around my head as I backed away from him on wobbly legs, uncomprehending. His burning eyes bored into me as he repeated the word, louder this time, commanding me: “Run!” And this time I did as I was told.

He wasn’t letting me go. I knew this as I ran down the path with more speed than I’d ever imagined my body could muster. This was what he’d done to Tommy. He hadn’t killed him right away, that wasn’t his style. He’d made his first cut and then he’d made him run. He’d even given him a head start. He’d made Tommy run for his life and now he was doing the same to me, knowing he would catch me, knowing he was faster. But that wasn’t the point. The running was the point.

Because Brandon loved the chase.

Think
, I urged myself,
think of a plan. Lucas says you’re clever, so think. You’re smarter than he is. You can do this. Think!

Already I could hear him coming after me, though he was grunting and his steps were uneven. Maybe I’d injured one of his legs when I’d kicked him.

Get to people
, I thought frantically.
Get to safety. Call for help!

I ran up the stone steps onto the landing behind the library and threw myself at the wooden doors, but they were locked. Going back down the stairs would have brought me back toward Brandon, so instead I climbed over the balustrade and leaped the four feet to the ground. In front of me was the side of Ontario Hall, the light falling through the windows of the corner classroom where Lucas was taking his exam on the second floor.
Lucas
. But I remembered now that those back doors locked when they closed, too. I’d have to go around the front.

Adrenaline pumped through my veins as I shot toward the street. I couldn’t hear Brandon behind me, but I wasn’t stupid enough to think that I’d lost him this quickly. He was stalking me. He was watching. As I rounded the side of the building I looked up and down University Avenue, desperately searching for someone, anyone who could help me, but the street was empty and silent as the grave. Where was campus security when you needed them? Then I remembered—my phone!

Luckily, I hadn’t dropped my bag because it was strapped across my body. As I continued toward the stairs leading into Ontario Hall, I reached into my bag and rustled through my junk, searching for my cell phone. I could call campus security myself. They’d be here in minutes. And Lucas was right upstairs. I wasn’t going to die. Not today. Not now.

But where was it? Panting as I reached the bottom of the stairs, I plunged both hands into my messenger bag, emptying my wallet, an umbrella, paintbrushes, and my sketchbook onto the ground, but I couldn’t find my phone anywhere. Had Lucas taken it when we’d left the apartment? Had I left it behind?

“You’ve sure gotten an awful lot of texts from an unknown number,” Brandon said.

My head snapped up as he rounded the low wrought-iron fence and stepped toward me, my cell phone in his hand. He must have slipped it out of my bag when he was holding me. He paged through the messages, his face contorted with mock concern.

“Some of these are absolutely appalling! You really should be careful who you give your number out to,” Brandon warned. “There are all kinds of crazies out there.”

“You don’t say,” I shot back then turned and began to run up the stairs. I thought I could make it. The beckoning light of the front doors was only a few feet away, but he was on me before I’d even made it to the top. In a blink I was dragged backwards down the steps and thrown down onto the cement. I landed hard onto of my bag, momentarily glad I’d just emptied it. Then he yanked my head up by my hair and I screeched as pain seared through my hairline.

“I have to say I expected more from you, Katie,” Brandon said, his lips against my ear. “Is this all the fight you have in you? Haven’t you been anticipating this moment for the past six years? Is this really the best you can do?”

You can do this, Katie. You’re strong. You’re smart. Don’t let him do this to you twice. You can think your way out of this.

“Isn’t that how you like them?” I said. “Weak and small? Just like Tommy. I’m just trying to give you what you want.”

Baiting him had seemed like a good idea until he yanked on my hair with a growl and I regretted it with every fibre of my being. Grabbing me by my collar with his other hand, he pulled me up to my feet then kicked me in the back, causing me to fall forward onto my knees again. In desperation I began to crawl forward and I heard him chuckling at me. He thought I was easy prey, a weak and cowardly girl he could stalk and torture and kill, taking my life just as he’d taken Tommy’s, without much hassle, without even breaking a sweat. Listening to him laughing at my fear, I decided I had to get back at him for what he’d done to me. Even if he was going to kill me, he would pay first. I’d make him pay even if it was the last thing I did. I had to do this. For the little girl I had been, now lost forever. For all the people whose lives he’d ruined.

For Tommy.

Scrambling to my feet, I spun around to face him. The knife was in his hand again. He was getting ready to finish things off. To finish me.

“You killed Tommy for me, huh?” I said, backing toward the line of trees that separated the buildings.

“You know I did,” Brandon answered. I could see the creases lining his forehead as he scowled at me. This was no twelve-year-old boy. He was a full-grown man now. A full-grown monster. But even monsters had their weaknesses.

“Pretty romantic,” I said. “What was it like sitting in that cell, knowing the girl you loved enough to kill for didn’t love you back? I mean, I denied even knowing you. I testified that I’d never seen you before in my life. That’s gotta sting.”

Brandon shook his head. “You think I’ve been pining for you all these years, just waiting to get out so we could be together again? Don’t make me laugh. Any feelings I had ran out long ago, Katie Kat. I spent those years planning out this moment. I’ve been dreaming about watching you die ever since I made the mistake of letting you go that day. I never make the same mistake twice.”

We reached the trees and I backed under them. Brandon’s face fell into shadow as he continued to advance on me, his eyes little pinpoints of light in the dark.

“Kind of seems like a waste of time, though, doesn’t it?” I said, tripping over one of the cement borders that circled the trees, but righting myself before he could reach me. “All those years of your life spent locked away, all for nothing.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t call it nothing,” Brandon said. “Killing can be its own reward.”

As the horror of that statement sank in, he began to advance more quickly and I struggled to keep ahead of him. There was a large field coming up behind me and I was counting on his not wanting to attack me out in the open. It seemed like a major murderer no-no, but Brandon didn’t really seem like the type to follow the rules.

I wished I had my bat. Risking a glance behind, I looked around wildly for anything I could use as a weapon. The wind was really picking up now, tearing petals off the crocuses and sending stray plastic bags and twigs flying around our heads. I began to hope for a lightning strike.

“Killing me will make as little sense as killing Tommy,” I said quickly as we stepped into the field. “Nobody will understand why you did it. They’ll all still think you’re the Kindergarten Killer. Is that what you want to be known for, murder with no motive? They’ll call you deranged. They’ll put you in the psych ward again.”