Page 152 of Hell Hath No Fury

She came charging forward, a lantern held up in one hand the other balled into a fist. But before she reached us, Stu came out from behind Bobby and hit her with a right hook across the chin. The doctor went flying back, landing hard on the ground and dropping the lantern. It crashed down, glass shards skating across the gymnasium floor.

Monica came sprinting toward us before jumping up and onto Bobby’s back as I continued struggling against his unyielding grip. The force brought all three of us down. Stu snatched her up from the pile and threw her several feet away where she landed with a thud. She coughed, groaned.

He then helped Bobby up, and Bobby said, “Grab that other fuckin’ lantern while I get this bitch in the locker room.”

Stu went off as Bobby grabbed both legs and dragged me toward the locker room. I screamed bloody murder, clawing at the ground, but my nails did nothing against the slick basketball court. Shards of glass from the lantern dug into my palms and I yelped out in pain, blood streaked across the floor in my wake. Monica rose to her feet slowly, her body trembling. She tried catching her breath.

“You stay right fuckin’ there, you hear me?” Stu said to Monica as he went by her with the lit lantern.

Kammie, Juliana, and Ryker remained frozen in stunned silence. The younger kids were crying as Bobby dragged me toward the doorway. Dr. McCormick who was still on her ass, her eyes steadying on some distant point, her hand placed against her forehead. She muttered something as we passed and tried to grab at their legs, but Stu kicked her hands away. As Bobby passed through the doorway toward the locker rooms, I shot my hands out and caught the door frame. I clung to the walls as he continued pulling. I felt like my arms would rip right out of the sockets, but I dared not let go. I heard only the roar of my rapid heartbeat drumming between my ears. I saw only my hands as they turned ghostly white from the pressure of my grip. I willed them to stay strong, to hang on. It bought enough time for Dr. McCormick to make it to her feet but before she could start toward us, Stu stomped on the fingertips of my right hand. I yelped from the sharp stabbing pain, pulling my hand back and allowing Bobby to get me through the doorway, the terror seizing my lungs as they both dragged me into the locker room, toward hell.

McCormick stumbled through the doorway after us. “Let her go, you sick fucks!”

Stu handed the lantern over to Bobby before chasing after Doc, who then panicked and raced toward the coach’s office. Bobby threw me to the ground and kicked me in the head once more, lighter than the last time, but enough to knock me completely to the ground, my face against the tiled floor. He put his boot on my face, keeping it held there. I heard a scuffle in the coach’s office, furniture breaking, and a scream. Then I heard a heavythwack,thwack,thwack …Another round ofthwacks,liquid splattering. And then silence. Blood began moving across the floor, spreading out like some sickening tide.

When Stu returned, his face screamed of guilt, his hands stained with blood.

“What?” Bobby asked.

“There was an accident.”

“What kind of accident?”

“I think she’s dead, man.”

Bobby took a few steps toward the coach’s office. He held the lantern up and looked in. “Not yet, but she’s gonna be,” he cracked.

I tried standing up, but it was as if my mind couldn’t communicate with my limbs. But I mustered up enough energy to scream. Bobby just laughed.

“Oh, well. Dumb bitch should’ve stayed out of the way,” he snickered, handing the lantern back over to Stu before coming to my side and standing over me.

I dragged myself toward the office slowly, my vision clearing, but my temples pounding. A terrible headache took hold. They let me do it. And when I made it to the doorway, I saw Dr. McCormick lying still on the ground. Her eyes were wide open, her mouth sucking at air like a fish out of water, a huge open wound in her head pouring blood onto the floor. A thick, hardback novel splattered with blood laid beside her.

I began to weep, and Bobby let out a sickening chuckle as he came to me and snatched me by the ankles. I let out a wretched scream that echoed among the lockers.

“Fuck you!” Monica’s shrieked, and she leapt forward and wrapped her arms around Bobby’s head. She brought them both down on top of me, and she began hitting Bobby wildly with both fists. As small as she was, she wasn’t doing much damage, but it distracted Bobby long enough for me to get free from his grip and to my feet.

Remembering all of the MMA videos I watched on YouTube, I quickly wrapped my arm around Bobby’s neck. Trying to perform a rear naked choke, I forced his throat into the crook of my elbow and squeezed with all my might just as Stu did a looping soccer kick that connected directly with Monica’s head as she grabbed at Bobby’s legs. She collapsed to the ground and started seizing.

“Monica!” I screamed, still holding my firm grip against Bobby’s throat. He started to gag. “Please!” I begged. “Help her!”

“Fuck her,” Stu growled, as he came toward us. “And fuck y—”

His eyes went wide, his mouth gaping, and his brows scrunched in confusion as he froze. Kammie was right behind him, fire in her eyes when I spotted the blood trickling from his lips. Kammie continued stabbing, over and over again until Stu dropped to his knees and eventually fell into the lockers. Kammie stood there, mouth agape, and face ashen, Mr. Malcolm’s blood-soaked knife in her right hand.

“P-please,” Bobby struggled out. “Let m-me go.”

I pulled tighter as Kammie slinked toward him, raising the knife.

“No, wait!” I shouted. I glanced down at Bobby and loosened my grip just so. “I’m gonna let you go, and you’re gonna behave yourself, okay? Our I’m gonna have Kammie here give you a Chelsea Grin before disembowelling you?”

“Come on. We’re all friends here,” Bobby said, and then coughed.

“The fuck we are.” I looked at Kammie. “You ready to straddle his ass?”

She nodded, setting a foot against his stomach as I worked my way from under him. She straddled his mid torso, holding the knife to his throat.

I went to grab the lantern that Stu had dropped before bleeding out like a stuck pig.