Page 51 of The Serial Killer’s Sister (The Serial Killer’s Daughter #3)

Despite the tape on our mouths, our combined, panicked sobbing is so intense now it drowns out Dean’s voice.

I see his lips moving but I can’t hear what he’s saying.

He stomps back and forth in front of us, his fingers dragging through his hair.

Eventually, Serena becomes quiet and still, as though the inevitability of the situation has muted her. But my wails grow louder.

‘Shut up, shut up. Shut. Up!’ Dean aims the gun at me and my cries extinguish as quickly as snuffing out the flame of a candle.

I hold my breath and turn to look at Serena.

My fear is reflected in her expression. She blinks, moving her eyes towards Dean.

She’s desperately trying to communicate something to me.

She indicates towards my legs, then hers. Nods her head three times.

Okay. I’ve got it. On the count of three, both of us kick our legs out at Dean. Maybe with enough force, he’ll fall to the ground. But then what? Even if we both jump on him, putting all our collective weight on him, without the use of our hands he’ll soon recover and use the gun. It’ll be futile.

Better than giving up and letting him kill us both easily, though. At least we’ll die with the knowledge we put up a worthy fight. There’s some dignity in that.

‘Hey. Hey.’ Dean slaps the barrel of the gun across Selena’s head.

‘Stop with the communication.’ He takes a few steps back until he’s far enough away that neither of our legs can reach him.

I should remember that he’s a detective – he’s perceptive and has likely seen all the tricks in the book.

Hope collapses in on itself and I start to pray for a swift death.

That’s not his aim, though; I know that.

He wouldn’t have gone to these lengths if he were merely going to put a bullet through my brain.

I twist around on the stone wall of the well and peer down into the abyss, my stomach dropping.

Dean thinks he has the control – thinks he can choose how I die. If I take that away from him, he’ll lose. If I fling myself backwards it’ll ruin his plan. I could end this now, myself.

And one day, when he’s caught, and our bodies are found – the truth will all be revealed.

That’ll teach him.

My eyes sting with tears as my plan plays out in my mind, my heart fluttering like a trapped animal.

I’ve run out of choices. I’m about to make peace with my decision – after all, what have I left to live for anyway?

– when a voice in my head screams: You saved yourself before – you can do it again .

I wriggle my hands, furiously twisting and pulling them.

Serena clocks what I’m doing and gives me an encouraging nod.

She shuffles to the left, away from me, drawing Dean’s attention to her in the hope I can get my hands free without him realising.

‘Where are you going?’ he says to her. He presses his hands down on Serena’s thighs, preventing further movement. I keep an eye on them, while I manipulate my hands to create more space. I feel the tape give some more, the progress increasing my adrenaline so much my body seems to vibrate with it.

Nearly there. I’ve almost got enough room to slip my hand out.

Dean’s full attention is on Serena. He’s telling her how he did like her, how it wasn’t all fake.

The sex was good, he says, and in a different set of circumstances he reckons they’d have been a great couple had they been able to continue dating.

Had she lived long enough. I hear Serena make a weird sound in her throat and assume she’s disagreeing with both his evaluation and his prediction.

‘But no point crying over spilt milk, eh?’ he says, putting both hands on her chest. My stomach flips.

He’s going to kill her first. And he’s going to do it now.

I give one almighty tug and my right hand releases with a loud tearing noise.

Dean’s head snaps around and he glares at me, but in the split second it takes for him to see I’m free of my binding, I’m on him, my hands grasping his hair and yanking hard.

For a moment, my entire body weight hangs from the clump of it gripped in my fist, then I bring my other arm up and wrap it around his neck.

Serena flings her legs out and directs her bound feet upwards.

With a sickening blow, they make contact with his groin.

He drops the gun and doubles over, the air expelling from his lungs in one loud umph noise.

At the same time I land hard on the edge of the well.

A sharp pain jabs at my ribs, stealing the air from my lungs, and I struggle to catch my breath.

I gasp through the gap in the tape and put my hands to it to rip it off, but I’m not quick enough.

Frustration burns in my chest as my hands are yanked away.

Dean’s on me, flipping me over to face him.

I force my head to the side, but I can’t see Serena.

Where’s Serena? Oh my God – did he push her down the well? Did I knock her while I was grappling with Dean? Panic rises along with my heart rate, the frantic beating making me giddy.

‘You’re just like your brother,’ Dean rasps. ‘He put up a fight too.’

He pushes me, and I thrust my hands to his chest, holding on with all my strength.

He forces me back until I’m teetering on the edge of the stone wall, the top half of me floating in the air above the drop.

I attempt to speak, but now with little air and the tape still restricting my mouth, I fail to eject a single recognisable word.

‘Looks like it’s your turn,’ Dean says, his words forced through gritted teeth.

I sense he’s weaker than before, the kick to his testicles maybe rendering him less powerful.

I have to make the most of this moment, strike while he’s not at full strength.

Our bodies are touching, grappling with each other, muscle against muscle, skin against skin in a desperate battle for survival.

In my head, the words I want to shout play out unheard.

It’s said that your life flashes before your eyes in the moments before death, and as I inch towards mine, images of my parents, my brother, Finley Hall, my only real friend there, and now my only real friend here, fly through my mind as the darkness of the hole envelops me.

Survival.

The word illuminates inside my skull and something deep within me gives me the strength to give one final push.

I grab the front of his shirt and use it to regain my balance, taking him by surprise, then with a roar I pull him around so that his back is to the wall.

I stagger away from it and, seeing Dean struggling to keep his balance, I realise this is my chance.

I know it, but I hesitate, my conscience questioning what I’m about to do. It’s a millisecond decision whether to use the opportunity to tear the tape from my mouth and take the chance that I will have time to say what I need to, or to put an end to this right now.

As I reach for the tape, he thrusts his hands towards me, and I know I can’t take another risk.

It’s him or me.

With everything I have, I lunge at him.

His hands flail, clutching at the air, desperately trying to grasp my clothes – he wants to take me with him.

But the momentum takes him away from me.

He yells and swears, understanding hitting him.

Our eyes meet and I’ve the urge to try and catch him, my hands reaching to clutch his – it must be instinct – but my fingertips merely brush his as he disappears from view.

There’s a few seconds of silence, then a blood-curdling crunch and I flinch as it echoes in my head – in my memory.

Then, silence.

I tear at the tape around my head, my lips, crying out as it pulls at my skin. I twist my mouth, open and close it to get the feeling back, then, with my pulse pounding in my ears, I scour the area for Serena.

Please be here, I pray silently. The thought of three bodies in the well is too much to endure.

I hear a low, deep moaning and let out a relieved breath. I run around to the other side of the well, where Serena lies on her back, her chest heaving.

She’s breathing. I’m not responsible for another death. I go to her and begin stripping off the tape.

‘He’s got to be dead, right?’ she gasps when I’ve freed her mouth.

I close my eyes and continue to suck in huge breaths of air through my mouth now I’m able. Dead. Dean Briggs is dead.

‘Even if he isn’t,’ I say, my voice breaking, ‘there’s no way he’ll climb out of there.

’ It’s dark now, even darker down the well.

I’m drawn to the edge, compelled to check he’s not somehow halfway back up.

My pulse thrums as I lean forwards an inch and extend my neck so I can just peep over.

I can’t see him clinging to the wall; I can’t hear any effort to escape.

There’s no sound at all from down there.

‘Hello?’ I call. The single word, loudly spoken, scratches my throat.

I allow some saliva to build, swallow a few times, then I shout, ‘Dean!’

I have to be certain.

Nothing.

A deep, guttural cry erupts from me, and I fall to the ground and sob.

Serena sits beside me and wraps her arm around my shoulders and cries too.

A few minutes pass with us huddled together, and when Serena’s tears stop, mine keep flowing.

It’s like years’ worth of pain and anger is being let out, together with relief, regret, grief, and guilt.

Serena pulls me up, and holding me at arm’s length, she locks eyes with me.

‘Are you okay?’

I’m not even close to being okay, but I nod all the same.

It’s easier than telling her the truth. There’ll be time for that later.

There’s a confused expression on her face and I wonder if that’s in response to my own.

I drag my hands down my face, my fingertips snagging on the sticky residue of the duct tape.

‘I’m fine. I will be fine.’ I say it not just to Serena, but to the universe – if I repeat it enough, it might become the case.

‘I’m so sorry,’ Serena says, tears swimming in her eyes again. ‘I swear I had no clue who he was.’

My eyes feel like they’re the size of golf balls, my lids swollen with tears. I shake my head. ‘I had no clue, either, Serena. And I’m the one who should’ve.’

Her brow creases. ‘I know now isn’t the time, but I think we’ll need to have a full and frank conversation soon.’

‘Oh, Serena – what a mess.’ I sweep an arm around her.

‘How are we going to explain all this? There are two dead people in a well, seventeen years apart – one of whom is a detective inspector – and I’m responsible for both, in different ways.

’ The repercussions are beyond my comprehension and a wave of panic crashes over me.

‘Breathe, Anna. Come on, we’ve not survived a madman only for you to die of a heart attack.’

‘How can you be so calm?’ I gasp. Maybe, I realise, it’s because now the immediate danger is over, she knows she’s the innocent party in all of this and there are no criminal consequences for her.

There are plenty for me.

I have the uncontrollable urge to leave now. I start walking towards the path between the trees that we came through.

‘Wait up, Anna. Shouldn’t we stay a while longer to, you know … to make sure?’

‘What, you think he’ll come back to life, like in the Scream movies?’

‘It would be your luck.’

She has a point. I move to her side and together, we both lean over and stare down into the black hole again. I absently rub at my wrists to relieve some of the stiffness and stinging.

‘It’s over,’ I say, tears clogging my throat. I bend to pick up Dean’s gun, then toss it in the hole. ‘Let’s go.’ I turn my back on the well. Turn my back on the past, once again.

This will be the last time. No one else will come after me, because there’s no one left to care.