Page 43 of Property of Scythe
He waited. This monster broke into my apartment and waited for me to come home. I’m frozen in place as Scythe yanks me out of the way.
The clown lunges at us, slicing a butcher knife through the air that narrowly misses Scythe’s arm. We turn and run, heading back toward the elevator that’s already closed. There’s no time to wait or push the button. We can’t guarantee it’s still on my floor.
Scythe grips my hand and rushes toward the door marked STAIRS. He reaches for the knob and rips the door open as our attacker slams into the wall, the momentum carrying him forward before he can stop it.
We yank the door shut, which might buy us a few preciousseconds as we begin our descent, thundering down the steps in a hurry to reach the bottom. The door opens, and I know Art the Clown is inside. I can hear him gaining on us, but he won’t reach the exit before we do.
Scythe reaches for the doorknob, but it doesn’t turn. “Fuck!” he shouts, digging into his leather vest to pull out a gun. “Try to open it, Lottie!”
He faces the stairwell, aiming his weapon at the spot where we know the clown will have to walk through since he’ll appear at any second. His shoes slam onto every metal step as he chases us, growing closer with every breath that passes through my lungs.
I’m frantic, my fingers slipping from my sweaty palm. Just when I think the door won’t open and we’ll have to face the Terrifier, it pops open, and I slip outside. “Scythe!”
He backs out as we see the clown. Scythe fires a shot, but we don’t pause to check if it hits its mark. He yanks the door closed and orders me to run.
I’m pumping my arms and legs as Chris shouts for us to hurry. When we reach the Hummer, Scythe pushes me inside, then spins around as Art exits my building. I slam my palm on the glass, horrified as I watch the killer stalk Scythe and Chris.
He’s not in a hurry. I can see that. His facial features reveal his maniacal glee. He wanted this to happen. The killer wants to play with his prey.
We need help. I don’t have Boomer’s number. I’ll have to dial 9-1-1 and hope that Boomer intercepts the call.
I’m shaking so hard that it’s almost impossible to punch in the numbers. When the line rings twice, then clicks off, I panic. Are the cell towers not working? I try again, and it rings, but no one answers. Blowing out a breath, I dial a third time.
A frantic hello greets me.
“This is Lottie Bishop. I’m outside my apartment building, and there’s a guy dressed as a clown with a knife. He’s trying to kill us! Please Hurry!”
“Lottie?” It’s Boomer. “I’m on my way!”
I hear a scream, and I look out the window, watching in horror as the clown slashes at Chris with his knife. The prospect trips and lands on his back, fighting off the clown as his fingers and arms are sliced up. Blood drips from the wounds and splatters on Chris and the clown’s costume.
I don’t know where Scythe is. I can’t see him.
The killer turns his head, and I meet his cold, murderous expression. He uses one fist to punch Chris in the face. The prospect falls back against the grass, his body limp. Tears sting my eyes as the clown lifts his knife, plunges down, and stabs Chris in the chest.
Screams echo inside the Hummer, and it takes a few seconds for me to realize that they’re mine. My throat is hoarse and dry, but I can’t seem to stop shaking hard as I see the clown rise from the ground and stomp toward the Hummer.
His focus is centered on me. I’ve escaped him more than once, and I know he’s out to kill me this time.
But the joke’s on him. I see the keys inside the ignition. Scythe left them there in case we needed to leave in a hurry. Smart. I know just what I’m going to do.
Chapter 14 Scythe
Igroan as I roll over on my side, blinking as the fog in my head begins to lift. Urgency floods my brain, and adrenaline twitches my muscles. I’m not supposed to be knocked out on the ground. I need to be . . .
Shit! Lottie!
I scramble to my feet as everything rushes back. The killer waiting in Lottie’s apartment. Rushing down the stairwell. The chase. Firing my gun and shooting the sadistic clown. Finally getting Lottie outside and into the Hummer. Then that sick fuck coming after me and the prospect, Chris.
At some point, I got locked into a struggle with the clown. Instead of stabbing me, he hit me over the head. I remember tripping before I went down. Hard.
My gut twists as I worry he went after Chris next. Or Lottie.
The Hummer’s engine is running. I stare in shock as Lottie throws the vehicle in drive and presses down on the gas. It lurches forward and picks up speed as she flips off the killer. He tries to dive out of the way, but he’s notfast enough. She turns the wheel and keeps him centered in front of her, crashing the front of the Hummer into the clown.
He flies into the air with the impact, arms and legs flailing, and is propelled into the side of Lottie’s apartment building. There’s a sickening crunch, signifying several broken bones. The clown’s body ragdolls before it bounces off the ground, rebounding before making a final thud on the grass.
The killer doesn’t move.
