DoubleDown V by John R. Little and Mark Allan Gunnells Page B

person.”
    Bobby shrugged.  “I hear she’s not dead.”
    “That’s a technicality and you know it.”
    In spite of herself, a tear dropped down her cheek.  “You fucking loser,” she whispered.  “Why did you do it?  Why the fuck did you do it?”
    His face hardened, but a small smile lifted the corners of his mouth.
    “Why?  Because I met you more than a decade ago, when you were just as pathetic and freakish as me.”  He looked like he wanted to spit at her.  “But you changed and left me behind.  That bitch changed you.  She made you happy, and you didn’t want anything to do with me.  You were too damned good for me.  I was back to being a freak.”
    “You slit her throat because I loved her … .”
    “Damned right.”
    Karen felt drained, guilt rushing through her.
    Concentrate , she told herself.
    She opened her purse, pretending to look for a tissue, but she pulled out a knife instead and didn’t hesitate.  She rushed to Bobby and buried the knife in his chest, pushing him to the wall.
    He screamed, but that just hardened her resolve and she pushed the knife harder.  The blade slid against ribs as it punctured the lung behind them.  She had no idea if anybody had heard him scream, but the sound didn’t last long.  He stared at her and moved his mouth but no noise came out.
    “No more secrets, Bobby.  I wanted you to see me,” she said.  “Doing it when time was stopped wasn’t right.”
    He reached to her but had no strength in his arms.  He started to slide to the floor.
    Karen watched the life ebb from him but felt no real satisfaction.  It was a job, a job long overdue, but one that was finally finished.
    When she was sure he was dead, she left the apartment and closed the door behind her. She didn’t bother taking her purse with her.
    The walk away seemed to take forever.  She half-expected a police car to come screaming toward her and armed officers to take her into custody, but nothing happened.  She just walked and walked, and eventually found herself at the care center where Bonnie was housed.
    She couldn’t say “where Bonnie lived” because she wasn’t alive.  Not really.  The machines might cause her body to breathe, but that wasn’t living.
    The caretakers had come to know Karen and trust her.  She signed in and went to Bonnie’s room, where she closed the door behind her.
    “Hello, my love.”
    She knew how all the machinery worked, from her job at the Mayberry Care Center, and she was able to disable the monitors, so no alarms would be raised at the front desk.
    She sat on the bed beside Bonnie and gently rubbed her hair.
    “You always had such beautiful blonde hair,” she said.  “I loved touching it.  I loved our life together.”
    Karen leaned over and kissed Bonnie on her cheek one last time.  She wanted to kiss her lips, but the tube allowing her to breathe snaked down her throat.
    Then she put her hands around the frail neck and squeezed.  At first she didn’t do it hard enough, and Bonnie’s body kept breathing.  She squeezed harder and harder, and she finally felt Bonnie shaking a little bit … at least she thought she did.  She kept it up, finding it hard to see through the tears but telling herself she needed to release the woman she loved.
    Eventually, the monitors showed Bonnie’s vital signs at zero.  She had no idea how long it took.  Time was standing still in a very different way for her.
    Karen lay down beside her beautiful angel and kissed her cheek one last time.  She closed her eyes and tried to remember all the good times they’d had together.  She held Bonnie, whispered “I love you,” and waited for the police to arrive.
     
     
    THE END
     
     

About John R. Little

     
    John R. Little published his first short story in 1982 and hasn’t stopped since.  He’s published a dozen books so far and has many more ideas finding their way to print.  John won the Bram Stoker award for Miranda in 2009 and was