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!”
    It was a body. I could tell
even from a distance. It was somehow draped over the top of the fence, whether
deliberately or as the result of an attempt to dump it into the wash, who knew.
I slogged along after Debbie, who’d already reached it and stood beneath it,
pointing up and giggling. “C’mon, you haven’t even seen the best part yet.”
    I wanted to turn around then,
go home, and lock the doors, call Mom, call the police, call anyone…but I kept
walking forward, like a prisoner marching to the gas chamber, every step
heavier than the rest.
    Blood had formed a huge,
spread-out pool beneath the body, but Debbie didn’t seem to care; she stood in
the middle of it, and I saw that lots of other bloody footprints already led
away from the pool. The head hung upside down, facing away from me. I skirted
as much of the blood as possible—I was just wearing cheap rubber sandals and
the idea of it getting on my toes made me nauseous—until I’d moved around to
where I could see the face.
    It was hard to make out the
features, since the head was upside down and covered in blood from the slit
throat and multiple stab wounds, but the long, blonde hair gave it away.
    Vicki.
    The strength ebbed from my legs,
and I plopped down in the dirt, staring up at her. Her open eyes were filmed
with blood; what was left of her clothes were tattered and stained red; her
arms and legs hung down on opposite sides of the fence.
    “Isn’t this the coolest ?”
Debbie grinned at me as if it was Christmas morning and Santa had just brought
her a puppy.
    “Did you find her?” I said. My
voice sounded strange, too high-pitched and soft.
    Debbie laughed. “No, silly.”
    “Then how…?”
    “Are you kidding? Everybody knows she’s here!”
    Debbie turned and stuck a
finger into a stab wound on Vicki’s stomach, and my mind flashed back to Debbie
telling Matt it was gross when he did the same thing to a squirrel.
    I forced myself to my feet and
turned to leave.
    “Where are you going?” I heard
Debbie ask.
    I didn’t answer. Before I knew
it, I was running. I didn’t look back. Behind me, Debbie shouted, “Don’t be
such a chicken!”
    I ran through my yard, slammed
the glass door shut, and turned the lock. Debbie would have to take the long
way around to get home again, but I didn’t care. I didn’t ever want to see her
again.
    I was about to run to the front
door to lock that when CJ stepped into the hallway in front of me. “Where you
been, little sis?”
    He was covered in blood. It was
on his hands, his shirt front, his face, even in his hair. I knew whose blood
it was.
    “None of your business.” I ran
past him.
    “Hey!” he shouted, but I
ignored him, fled into my room, shut the door, and moved my desk chair under
the knob. I was still getting it just right when the door shuddered. “Joey,
open this door!” The door rattled again; the chair tilted back—but it held.
    “Leave me alone!”
    He pounded on the door one more
time before he gave up. “Okay, but you’re gonna have to come out of there
sometime.”
    I stood near the door, every
muscle taut, ears strained, but I didn’t hear a thing.
    I waited for an hour, my head
pressed up against the door, listening. When it remained quiet, I risked moving
the chair and taking a peek out.
    He wasn’t there. I snuck
carefully around the house, but it was empty.
    I got a phone book, looked up
the number for the Women’s Club, crossed my fingers that it was the right one,
and dialed it. After three rings, a voice I didn’t know answered. “Yes,” I
said, trying to sound mature, “it’s urgent that I speak to Mrs. Donohue. Is she
there?”
    The woman said she was. After a
few seconds, Mom came on the line.
    “Mom, it’s me.”
    “Are you okay, honey?”
    I started to cry. I hated it,
but I couldn’t stop it. “Please come home. Something’s wrong with CJ, and
Vicki’s dead, and I’m really scared, Mom…”
    “Oh, honey, I’m so sorry. I’ll
be