My work here is done.
— Outdoor Life
Jojo was dead.
I'd fled the mark's house. I was hiding behind the bushes across the street, still shaking but begging myself to be calm. I needed to be calm. And methodical.
Jojo was a mistake. There could be no more mistakes.
The men were gone, but surely they'd be back. How many though?
Around 9 p.m., my question was answered. Three men returned, with three women. Girlfriends? Wives? Didn't know. Didn't care.
They went inside.
Would they leave again?
Minutes passed. Then hours.
They didn't.
It was midnight.
The house went dark, but I didn't move. I waited.
I imagined myself, like Beanie counting the seconds, as I counted the hours that passed. "When you're counting," she said, "you've gotta do it like rhythm. Like music."
One hour, pause...
Two hours, pause...
Three...
Around 3 a.m., long after I'd seen any evidence of lights inside the house, the silence got so loud I could stand the roar no more.
I knew it was time to do what needed to be done.
There was a 7-Eleven a mile up the road. I strolled in like I was just a typical customer on a cigarette run. I bought a pack of cigarettes and the dumbest hunting magazine I could find. Something redneck cosplay fucks might buy. Outdoor Life, I think? Didn't matter.
Back at the house, I peeked through the windows until I found the room I'd been hiding inside. The office. The window was still open, but just a little, and the screen would only budge a few inches.
That'd be enough.
Hours earlier, when I was in the office, I'd seen a trash can with some paper, next to the desk where I'd found the pens and pencils. The window was directly above it. There were curtains too.
I knew that would do.
I pushed the screen in a little. I lit a cigarette and dropped it down. I was hoping to hear a slight "plung" to let me know it fell into the trash can, but I heard nothing.
The only thing I could do then was go back to the bushes across the street, and wait.
And wait.
I figured ten minutes would be enough. If I didn't see results, I'd try again.
I counted the minutes as they passed.
One minute, pause...
Two minutes, pause...
Three... it was excruciating.
Ten minutes later... still nothing.
I scampered back to the window, lit another cigarette, and dropped it in.
Then, I went across the street again, back to the bushes where I hid, and waited.
One minute, pause...
Two minutes, pause...
Three... the wait was worse.
Ten minutes later... again, nothing.
I ran back to the window and rolled up the magazine, dropping it in with a lit cigarette inside. I lit the magazine too. I could hear it slide along the curtains, followed by what sounded like a direct hit, in the trash can.
FWEEEET! CLUNG.
I ran back across the street, hoping I was the only one who'd heard that.
And I waited, as the minutes passed.
One angry Dandy...
Pause...
Two, an angry Shay...
Pause...
Three, it's all me...
Infuriated...
Hellen, Phoebe, me, me, me...
Enraged!!!
At 4am, I was about to go back and send the entire fucking pack of cigarettes down, all of them not just lit but on fire, when I noticed a flicker of light in the window. And then another.
I switched to a different hiding spot a little further down the street, this time behind a tree, so I could have a better view of the house, facing the front and side doors. I didn't need to watch the office window anymore. By now, the house was clearly on fire. I ran to hide behind another tree, in a darker spot, a little further away.
I watched the house, keeping my eyes on the front and side doors.
I knew there were six people inside.
I waited to see how many came out.
None did.
Flames jumped from what I assumed was a bedroom window to the roof. I could see more flames on the far side of the roof. The whole house was fully ablaze.
Surely, the people would come out?
None did.
I backed up further when I finally heard sirens. The only thing behind me was a hillside, leading down to another street with more houses. I didn't want to scurry down the hill until I knew if any of them would make it out.
None did.
Firemen arrived. I saw one of them try to kick the front door in. It wouldn't budge. He attacked it with an ax until it broke, but he didn't go in. He couldn't. The blaze was too much.
No one went in.
No one came out.
Controlled chaos ensued as the firemen battled the blaze, their water flying through the early morning sky. Another firetruck arrived, and then another.
And I knew, "My work here is done."
I imagined myself again, like Beanie counting the seconds, as I counted the bodies in my wake.
First one: Steve. Pause.
Then two: Boogie. Pause.
And three: The dead mark.
Then four: Jojo. Pause.
Six more assholes, because...
Otto was eleven, because...
La la la.
Twelve would soon be mine, because...
A grave would be dug for Doug, because...
Because, because, because, because, because...
"Because of the terrible things she does!"
...Pause.
Because I'm a monster.