Page 59 of Savage Keepsakes

I pull over and lower the passenger window. “You guys okay?”

“Yeah, we’re fine,” the curly blonde states.

“We are not. We should get a ride. There’s a fucking serial killer out there somewhere,” says the dirty blonde.

The third girl, with dark hair, continues to do nothing. While they argue, I tap the steering wheel, finding comfort in the music’s beat.

“Okay, well, stay safe,” I yell at them before putting on my blinker and taking my foot off the brake.

“Wait! I’m sorry, could you give us a ride to the campus? We’re supposed to check it out before a big party this afternoon,” the dirty blonde says.

I grin as I put the car in neutral to unlock the doors.

They chat in the back for a few minutes as we drive, and then the curly blonde talks. “I’m sorry, you have to be careful these days, ya know?”

“Understandable,” I tell her.

“I’m Samantha. My friend who doesn’t talk is Tyler, and the too trusting one is Amber.” She gestures to each girl while I look in the rearview mirror.

“My name’s Miles,” I say, and continue to drive to the barn.

“We’re going the wrong way,” Samantha points out.

“Just have to pop by my house to grab something.”

“What could you need?” Tyler asks, an unusual name for a woman, but definitely cool.

“My wallet. If I were caught without my license, I would risk losing everything. I drive for work.” I speed up the laneway, trying to figure out how to corral them.

After I park, I grab the keys and step out of the Cruze before heading toward the barn. The girls sit in the backseat and don’t move.

I should have invested in something to subdue them. I enter the stable, a sense of anticipation fills the air.

I gather my silver mask, ensuring it’s in place, before grabbing hold of the sturdy crowbar and heading out. Stepping out onto the path, my attention lands on the unoccupied backseat.

“Did you get your wallet?” Amber asks, and I stare down into her blue eyes.

Biting the inside of my lip, I dart and wrap my arm around her neck and cover her mouth. Her eyeswiden as she fights against me, but she’s no match for my strength.

I walk her back into the barn and hit her with the crowbar, and she sinks to the ground, passing out. One down, two to go.

Returning to the door, I watch Tyler and Samantha holding hands and walking towards the rotting garage. They’re going to be surprised by the bones and collection of teeth that I haven’t gotten rid of yet.

I stalk in their wake. “Hello ladies,” I whisper.

Both shout as I swing the metal rod along the back of their legs, and they drop to the ground. Their screaming doesn’t stop, and Samantha sits up and tries to swat at my legs.

Standing back, I contemplate what to do. Brian suffered a lot of bruising with the crowbar, and I don’t want to damage any more skin.

I sigh and pick up Tyler first. With a swift motion, I flip her over my shoulder and secure the crowbar in my grip. Making my way to the stall, I drop her in the muck.

When I return to the patch of grass, Samantha is army-crawling away, long scratches on the trail beside her.

“Where ya going?”

“Fuck you, fucking prick,” she shouts.

With an eye-roll, I lift her up and carry her on my shoulder. Samantha pounds her fists against my back, and I think I’ll be slow with her.

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