Kevin O'Brien - One Last Scream

As George started to bend over her, Stephanie suddenly gaped up at him and tried to cry out. “Quiet, sweetie,” he whispered in her ear. “Please, hush. I’m going to cut you loose and take you into Jody’s room. But you mustn’t make a sound.”

George paused for a moment. Jessie had stopped talking. He heard footsteps. The young man was coming toward the children’s bedrooms.

Creeping back to Stephanie’s door, George stood with his back to the wall. He had the knife ready.

It sounded like the man had stepped into Jody’s room, but George wasn’t sure. He glanced over at Stephanie and put his finger over his lips.

Wide-eyed, she stared at him and suddenly became very still. Then a shadow swept over her. She knew enough to look away from her father-and at the man standing in her doorway.

George remained perfectly still.

The shadow moved away, and the footsteps retreated. The young man was headed toward the living room now. George heard a click, like a door opening or closing.

He hurried back to Stephanie. He gingerly cut the tape around her little wrists and ankles, and then lifted her off the bed. It seemed cruel, but he kept the tape over her mouth for now. He couldn’t risk her crying out again as he smuggled her into Jody’s room. Carrying her out to the hallway, he stroked her hair.

He didn’t hear anyone talking in the kitchen. Peering around the corner, he saw only Jessie. Tied to the kitchen chair, she struggled with the tape binding her wrists in back of her, but to no avail. George wondered where the hell the man with the sunglasses had gone.

Ducking into Jody’s room, he carried Steffie to the window. He looked outside, and his heart sank. Jody wasn’t there.

Whimpering, Stephanie clung to him. He couldn’t drop her out the window. It was too high for her, and she was terrified.

Suddenly, the kitchen door slammed.

George swiveled around. He skulked back to Jody’s bedroom doorway and glanced toward the kitchen again. For a moment, he couldn’t breathe. It was as if someone had just punched him in the gut.

He saw the young man holding Jody up by his back collar. Blood trickled from a gash on the corner of Jody’s forehead. He seemed dazed, barely able to stand. The young man pressed a gun to his ear.

George was paralyzed.

Even with those dark glasses on, it was obvious the man was staring right at him. “Hi, Daddy,” he said. “Look who was trying to run away. I think I heard his skull crack when I hit the little bastard.” He smirked. “So, do I get a reward for finding him?”

A flat-edged shovel was wedged under the handle of the fallout shelter door.

That big, heavy door muffled Amelia’s voice. “Who’s out there? Karen? Please, somebody…”

With her hands tied behind her, Karen stood in the Faradays’ cold, clammy cellar. Among the clutter, there was a washer and dryer pushed against the wall, a bicycle, and some boating equipment. Karen noticed a drain in the middle of the concrete floor, and cobwebs on the exposed pipes running along the low ceiling.

Annabelle kicked the shovel aside, and it hit the floor with a loud clang. On the other side of the door, Amelia suddenly fell silent.

Karen felt woozy from the blow to her head earlier, but she fought the nausea and dizziness. She furtively pulled at the cord around her wrists while Annabelle was busy with the door. The hinges groaned as she opened it.

Amelia stood by a cot in the grimy little room. Her hair had been cut in a short shag style identical to her sister’s. Despite the blanket wrapped around her, she was trembling. She wore the same T-shirt and flannel pajama bottoms she’d had on last night. In her hand, she held a jagged piece of glass. Dumbstruck, she stared at Annabelle.

For a moment, neither one said a thing.

“Are you going to pretend you don’t know me?” Annabelle asked finally.

Amelia slowly shook her head. Clearly, she couldn’t comprehend what she was seeing. She didn’t move.

Karen kept tugging at the cord around her wrists. The skin there started to chafe and burn.

“Tell her who I am, Karen!” Annabelle barked. She suddenly grabbed Karen’s arm and jerked her forward.

“Amelia…. honey, this is your twin sister, Annabelle,” she said carefully. “You haven’t seen her since you were four, not since before the Faradays adopted you. Do you-do you recall telling me that you often talked into the mirror when you were a little girl? You-”

“You have to remember me,” Annabelle cut in, her voice choked with emotion. “Just look at me, Amelia. I’m your sister, your real sister. Those others, they weren’t your real family.”

Amelia stared at her. “My God, you killed them, didn’t you?” she whispered.

Annabelle let go of Karen’s arm. “I did it to bring us closer together,” she said. “You needed to feel what it’s like to have absolutely no one. That’s what happened to me after you left, after you forgot about me. You need to feel that firsthand , so we can be the same again.”

Karen edged back from her again. She kept pulling at the binding around her wrists. She felt it loosening.

“You killed my parents,” Amelia whispered, squinting at her twin, “and Collin and Aunt Ina….” She still had the piece of glass in her shaky grasp, as if ready to strike. “I felt it when you killed them. I thought it was me….”

“I’m closer to you than any of them ever were,” Annabelle said. “And we can be sisters again, Amelia. We’ll be there for each other. You really don’t have a choice. There’s no one left.”

“My God,” Amelia whispered, tears in her eyes. “You shot Shane, too. In a boat. I saw it. I thought it was a nightmare. Oh, Jesus, he’s dead, isn’t he?”

Annabelle nodded. “I had to. It makes us closer. My boyfriend will die tonight, too. It’s one more thing we’ll share. We don’t need them if we have each other. Don’t you see?”

Suddenly, she grabbed Karen again, and yanked her toward the fallout shelter doorway. Karen stumbled onto the dirty, concrete floor. Annabelle pulled her up by her hair.

“Stop that!” Amelia cried. “Stop hurting her!”

“Karen, make her understand!”

Trembling, she knelt in the doorway. She frantically tugged at the cord around her wrist. She could almost squeeze her hand past the knot. “Your sister wants you to start someplace new with her. She killed that police detective. The police think you did it. They’ll probably blame you for my death, too. Annabelle’s making it so you have no one else to turn to except her.”

Annabelle rolled back her sleeve and pressed the revolver to Karen’s head. “And I’ll look after you, Amelia, I promise,” she said. “I’ve forgiven you for turning your back on me. You’ll forgive me, too. You’ll have to. I’m the only family or friend you have left.”

Tears streaming down her face, Amelia stared at her twin sister. “That mark on the back of your wrist,” she murmured. “I felt it when that happened. Someone burned you….”

“Our father put a lit cigar out on me. You felt it, too?”

Amelia nodded.

“See?” Annabelle said, with a tiny smile. “We feel each other’s pain.”

Karen tried not to squirm as the cord scraped a layer of skin off her knuckles. Still, at last her hands were free. But she kept both hands clasped in back of her. The cord dangled off one wrist.

“Please, Annabelle, put the gun down,” Amelia said, finally. “You don’t have to do this. Let her go. Karen’s my friend.”

“I know she’s your friend,” Annabelle whispered, nodding. “That’s exactly why she has to die.”

“Wait. Look at me,” Amelia said, imploring her. “Do you really feel what I’m feeling right now?”