CHAPTER 25First thing the next morning, William Henry arrives to take me to Duluth airport. I sit the ride to the airport in silence, staring absently out the window at the passing scenery. I tip William well, then begin my mythical and arduous quest of passing through TSA security. I go through the moves blindly and numbly. Check my bags. Wait in line. Keep waiting in line. Get felt up by the TSA operatives, at least this time it’s a woman, so she doesn’t overdo it on the groping. Thank porcupines for small favors.Sit around waiting for the flight to board. Wait in line as the flight boards. Spend four hours getting hit on by the skeezy businessman I am lucky enough to be sitting next to. Wait in line to depart the plane after arriving in Los Angeles, knowing full well that Skeezy Businessman is taking advantage of being behind me to ogle my ass.Meet the town car driver at the bottom of the escalator, holding a sign for ‘Jasmine DeLaney’—the name my return flight was booked unde
“I love my work and want to start again. You will soon hear of me with my funny little games . . . My knife’s so nice and sharp I want to get to work right away if I get a chance.”—Jack The Ripper.
CHAPTER 1Hello. My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die.Okay, okay. Sorry, I just hate these stupid introduction things. It always makes me feel like I’m in grade school, again, and I hated grade school. I also hated middle school. And high school. Thank porcupines I didn’t go to college, I probably would’ve hated that, too. I hate a lot of things, incidentally.All right, let’s start over.My name is Sarah Killian, and I am a professional serial killer.No, goddammit, I am not a mother-fucking assassin, goddammit.Sorry. Again. That was my Tourette’s. I just have issues with assassins. They’re jackasses.Every. Single. Last. One. Jackasses.Let’s just say that it’s no coincidence the word starts with two asses, because one ass is not enough for those douche bags.So no, I’m not an assassin. I’m a professional serial killer, also known as a PSK. Assassins are lazy. Kill one terrorist with a sniper rifle from a hundred yards away and then disappear into
CHAPTER 2Zeke calls me at 5:00 in the fucking morning. He likes to do this; calling as early as possible with new assignments just to fuck with me, because he knows it pisses me off. And I can’t do anything about it, since he’s my boss.Even though I know it’s him, since no one else has enough cajones to call me at 5:00 in the fucking morning, I answer the phone. “This had better be Nathan Fillion calling to tell me he’s on his way over to my apartment—wearing his Captain Hammer uniform, fake nipples and all—to take advantage of me in every position imaginable.”“Hello, Clarisse,” Zeke responds.That’s another irritating quirk of Zeke’s. He tries to make himself seem creepier than he already is by impersonating famous movie sociopaths. I suppose that kinda shtick might work on normal girls, but it takes a lot more than Anthony Hopkins to creep me out. Truth be told, if I was ‘one of those girls,’ Zeke wouldn’t need to impersonate Anthony Hopkins to make my skin crawl. Fortunately
CHAPTER 3After mercilessly slaughtering an allegedly helpless stuffed dinosaur until it is nothing but a few shreds of green and purple fabric, a frenzied mess of stuffing, a tangle of wires, and a smashed sound box, I feel much better and I’m able to get a few more hours of sleep.After I’ve woken up, showered, and gotten dressed, I make my way—as Zeke had known I would—to visit my mother, relying on L.A.’s crappy public transportation system since I am currently Porsche-less. Whenever I do make one of these pre-assignment visits, I always feel guilty, because I feel like the prison guards should know me better than they do. If I were a better daughter, the guards and I would all be on a first name basis and they would wave at me all friendly-like whenever I came to visit, not even bothering to check my identification since they see me so frequently.As it stands, however, they are practically strangers to me. I recognize some of their faces—the ones who have been around forever a
CHAPTER 4After leaving my mother, I head to THEM headquarters, located in Chatsworth. The general public is led to believe this is a porn distribution warehouse. The majority of headquarters is actually underground, as they keep the warehouse above stocked with porn, just in case the L.A.P.D. decides to surprise us with one of their periodic raids to determine whether we’re doing any filming on top of the distributing. Gotta love the San Fernando Valley.After I enter the building through the front entrance, using my employee I.D. badge to unlock the door, I pass by the rent-a-cop guard on duty at the front desk—ignoring him since he no doubt thinks I’m a porn star as the rent-a-cop’s are kept in the dark about what the building is really used for—and continue into the back warehouse. At the very rear of the warehouse is a shelf filled with DVD’s. I remove one titled The Horny Games—a porn-parody of a popular young adult book and film franchise in which Pussniss Everbone is forced b
CHAPTER 5I get the call at 5:00 the next morning (that’s two mornings in a row . . . Zeke is so going to pay for this) when my airport transport has arrived. I drag myself out of bed, change into one of my new outfits I had picked out of the suitcase the night before, grab my two suitcases, and leave the house to find a black limo with tinted windows waiting. The driver—an expressionless man in a black suit and sunglasses—opens the door for me and I slide into the back seat.I’m so out of it, I don’t even notice her until she says, in an annoyingly squeaky and perky voice, “Hi, ‘Jennifer!’”I just about jump out of my seat. Sitting next to me, is a tiny little thing—so tiny she could pass for an Oompa Loompa if her skin were orange. Short, blond, well-endowed in the chest area, and I get the very strong impression that she is infernally perky. If she’s this perky at 5:15, I’d hate to see her at any other time of the day. She appears to be in her late thirties to early forties, but
CHAPTER 6We get to Duluth in the early afternoon. After the first hour of our flight, Bethany finally figured out that she was not going to get anywhere with me. Unfortunately, she had someone sitting next to her who actually was willing to participate in her inane babbling, so I still had to listen to her for the remainder of the flight.As we enter the baggage claim area of the Duluth airport, we find our driver, waiting and holding a sign that reads: Donner/Martin. The driver helps us get our luggage from the carousel, and then leads us out to the car—another conspicuously inconspicuous black, window-tinted limo. Since the driver is almost definitely not a THEM employee, and just a hired escort, we do not talk business while he is within hearing range. Unfortunately, Bethany of course finds everything else imaginable to talk about.As we ride through Duluth, I realize I have no idea what our living situation is going to be like. Since I’ve never trained someone before, this is e
CHAPTER 25First thing the next morning, William Henry arrives to take me to Duluth airport. I sit the ride to the airport in silence, staring absently out the window at the passing scenery. I tip William well, then begin my mythical and arduous quest of passing through TSA security. I go through the moves blindly and numbly. Check my bags. Wait in line. Keep waiting in line. Get felt up by the TSA operatives, at least this time it’s a woman, so she doesn’t overdo it on the groping. Thank porcupines for small favors.Sit around waiting for the flight to board. Wait in line as the flight boards. Spend four hours getting hit on by the skeezy businessman I am lucky enough to be sitting next to. Wait in line to depart the plane after arriving in Los Angeles, knowing full well that Skeezy Businessman is taking advantage of being behind me to ogle my ass.Meet the town car driver at the bottom of the escalator, holding a sign for ‘Jasmine DeLaney’—the name my return flight was booked unde
CHAPTER 24Naturally, school got cancelled for the rest of the week, in response to the additional deaths of Bethany Martin, Anthony, principal Davison, and Christy Lee Spinner. Can’t say I was disappointed to have the extra time to recuperate and not have to pretend to be Jennifer Donner for a while. I spent the time alternating between soaking in the tub and watching Mister What on streaming. I decided to skip over Brennan’s episodes to the episodes featuring Matthew Smytheson, the actor who replaced Brennan after he left the series. If in the next couple months a Matthew Smytheson look-a-like shows up on my doorstep, I’ll be sure to slit his throat. With my luck, he’d probably turn out to be the real Matthew Smytheson. Ugh.Anyway, after the week’s slight reprieve, I return to classes for my last week of the assignment, just to smooth things over. According to the ‘official’ story, I was attacked at the same time as Bethany and Anthony Hill, and I was left for dead, which provides
CHAPTER 23Weary and sore, I reverse my trek through the dark Enger Park and set into the streets of Duluth. I find a gas station with a payphone and place a call to William Henry. He’s still with his current client, but he’ll be able to pick me up in about an hour or so, so I give him the address of the gas station, and return inside, where it’s warmer.I buy a magazine so I have something to keep my mind occupied, but I can’t focus on the words on the page. The last forty-eight hours play themselves out repeatedly in my head. Worst yet, I can’t believe I actually fucked that sonofabitch. The sex isn’t even what makes me feel most violated. What makes me feel most violated is somehow he knew that making himself look similar to David Brennan would be an effective way to manipulate me—and it fucking worked, damn it.Then, of course, there’s the whole letting him get away thing. On some level, I know I should just be grateful that I walked away with my life intact, but it doesn’t stop
CHAPTER 22As William drives me to Enger Tower, I sit back in the town car, and try to think through this situation. I know I’m walking straight into a trap. I’m not stupid. But I also need to get this mess cleaned up as soon as possible.I also can’t help but wonder what the hell Nick thinks he’s playing at. He gave me the place to go to, but never mentioned the date or time I was supposed to go there, so how in the name of porcupines will he know I’ve deciphered his message and am on my way into his trap at this exact moment?The only thing I can figure is that, despite what David said, Nick must have me bugged, or under surveillance, or something David wasn’t able to detect. However Nick was able to know exactly when Bethany and I were going to kill Christy—and then know we were going to the school to bug Davison’s office—must be the same mode upon which he’s relying to know when I’m heading to our rendezvous.When we arrive at Enger Park, William turns back to me and asks, “How
CHAPTER 21Seeing as I have no car, and taking a taxi would be too conspicuous, I walk to the school. It’s fortunately only a twenty-minute walk, and since my adrenaline is pumping rather higher than normal, I make the walk in fifteen minutes. The sun is starting to set, and the autumn air is quite brisk, acting as extra motivation to walk faster than normal.Before entering the school, I do a quick surveillance. Once again, Davison’s car conspicuously stands out as the only car in the school parking lot. But, I also notice a Mercedes that looks suspiciously like Christy’s car, parked conveniently across the street.As nonchalantly as possible, with my heart racing as it is, I cross the street and enter the school through the front door, which I find is still unlocked after Davison left it open for Christy to enter.Once inside and out of the range of prying eyes, I pick up my pace—hoping Davison and Christy will be too involved to hear me approaching. As I move through the vacated
CHAPTER 20My musings are interrupted by a knock at the door—it’s David, delivering my micro ear monitor.“Thank you, you’re a dear,” I say, giving him a peck on the cheek as he hands over a small package, about the size of a ring box. “I’ll get this back to you ASAP, I promise.”“Take your time, it won’t be noticed as missing anytime soon,” he replies.I thank him again, and then close the door. I cross to the dining room table, and open up the package, inside of which is what looks like a tiny, tan-colored, plastic candy corn, which is designed to fit right into your ear canal, but can only be seen if someone sticks their eye right up to your ear.It is currently attached to a small USB cable, which I plug into my laptop. Once my laptop has connected with the device, an application automatically opens up, requesting a serial number. I type in the serial number for the bug we had planted in Davison’s office, and after a second there is a beep and the application notifies me that
CHAPTER 19I don’t remember falling asleep, but apparently I must have, because I find myself lying face-down in the middle of my floor, a page of Nick Jin’s case file stuck to my cheek, and someone knocking at my door.I pull myself from the floor, every bone in my body snapping, crackling and popping from having slept in such an awkward position.I open the door to find The Mister—I mean, David waiting.Apparently I look as bad as I feel, because he says, “Is this a bad time?”“No, sorry I’m a mess. Didn’t sleep well. Come in.” Then, because I’m still not sure if anyone can hear us, I ask, “Did you bring . . . protection?”He smiles as he reaches into his pocket, and pulls out—to my relief—a little gizmo that looks kinda like a USB flash drive with a tiny radio antennae attached.“No one will be able to hear us while this is on,” he tells me.“So they do bug us before sending us out into the field?” I say, choosing my words carefully, as he isn’t supposed to know what it real
CHAPTER 18When I come to—porcupines knows how long I was out for—the first thing I am able to register—aside from the dull, aching throb at the base of my neck—is the cold, hard marble of the school hallway floor. I groan in pain, and listen to footsteps quickly departing and the front doors of the school opening, and then slamming shut.As my vision slowly returns to focus, I find myself staring across the floor back at Bethany, who is unconscious and lying in a pool of her own blood.That image gets the adrenaline pumping, and I quickly peel myself off the floor. A little too quickly, I find, because the world starts spinning. But for Bethany’s sake, I fight the urge to succumb again to unconsciousness. I search for my handbag and—more importantly—my cell phone.It must have skid across the floor after my collapse, for it is some ten feet away. There is no sign of our attacker, which does not surprise me since it pretty much had to be him that I heard leaving as I reluctantly re
CHAPTER 17“Look, I’m sorry, I know you said we should keep our distance, but considering the circumstances of last night, we need to talk,” Davison says, as he steps through the door into my living room.“Yeah, that’s why I’ve been trying to call you all morning,” Bethany replies, crossly. A little too crossly. I shoot her a warning glance, to remind her to keep cool.Davison blushes as he pulls out his cell phone.“Oh, so you have . . . sorry, I . . . must have forgotten to take it off Do Not Disturb . . . ”“Too busy fucking your students to notice?” is what I want to say. “Yeah, well perhaps you should have checked it before you barged into my apartment and risked exposing the entire mission,” I say instead.Bethany returns my earlier reproachful glance. Hey, compared to what I’d wanted to say, I did keep it cool.“Okay, okay, you’re right, I’m sorry. But we can stand here bickering, or we can deal with what happened. What did exactly happen last night?”“Someone beat us to