Page 142 of Chaos at Prescott High (The Havoc Boys 2)
Hael pulls Aaron up and out of the hole, and we all take a step closer, so that we’re circling the space. The boys are all dressed in their tuxes for the wedding today. Most of their shirts are undone, ties loose or missing, but they still look fly in their pressed slacks and shiny loafers with metal skulls on the tops. Barker Blacks, I think the shoes are called.
I’m standing at the foot of the grave in my dress and combat boots with Victor opposite me in a pink tie. Aaron and Hael are on my right, Callum and Oscar on my left. At a nod from Vic, they all remove skeleton masks from their pockets and slip them on.
Even me.
I put the rubber mask over my face, my mouth a flat line, my face bereft of emotion.
“I’m going to kill you!” Neil wails, clutching his leg. “And I’m going to bury you, Bernadette, you fucking whore.”
“I think,” I say, crouching down at the side of the hole. “That you’re the one who’s getting buried today, Neil.” I wait for a moment as he struggles to stand up, clutching the knife like he thinks we’ll actually let him climb out and fight us. “This is for Penelope. You understand that, right? That you’re being punished?”
“You just wait, you little cunt,” he snarls, bleeding everywhere, struggling. It’s sort of pathetic, actually, how much he seems to want to live. For someone that does the things he does, he needs to accept that this is fate. This is how it ends. I wish.
But I mean … this isn’t a realistic way to finish things is it? Especially since Neil’s a cop?
“You have two choices,” Aaron continues finally as I stand up. It’s clear that Neil is not listening. “You’ve been provided with an oxygen tank that holds about six hours of air. You also have water and snacks. Then again, you have a knife.”
“What Aaron’s trying to say,” Hael adds with a sharp laugh. “Is that you can choose to use the items we’ve given you to survive a bit longer and prolong your own pain, or you can end it. That is our only kindness.”
“Close him up,” Vic orders, as efficient as always. He lights up a cigarette as Hael uses the stick—which I think is an old pool cue—to hit Neil in the face. With the injury to his leg, it’s pretty easy to knock him over. Hael then uses the stick to hook a bit of rope on the lid of the coffin, pulling it closed.
Just before the lid shuts completely, I see Neil look up at me, his mouth opening to spew vitriol. I don’t hear any of it. The lid closes and there’s a breath or two of silence before he starts to scream.
“Ah, there it is,” Cal says cheerfully, “he just broke.”
I wonder how long the boys plan on leaving Neil in there until they let him out, lead him into the woods, and execute him.
“Death is too sweet a release for some,” Callum adds, nodding as he grabs a pair of shovels and then offers one up to me.
I just stare at him.
“Wait …” I start as the boys—including Vic and Oscar—step forward and start to shovel dirt. “Is this … are we really doing this?”
“Do you like it?” Vic asks, looking up at me with sincerity in his dark gaze. “Your wedding present?”
It’s then that I know they’re serious.
We are burying Neil Pence alive for the crime of rape. For the suicide—or murder—of Penelope Blackbird. We are burying him alive for making me feel scared and unwelcome in my own home. We are burying him because he is a monster.
I fall to my knees in the dress, collapsing next to the hole and putting my forehead on my arm as I start to hyperventilate. After a moment, Aaron comes over to crouch beside me, rubbing my back in soothing circles and whispering sweet nothings in my ear. If I listen really hard, I can hear Neil screaming as dirt piles on top of his shiny black coffin.
“I’d say, based on the size of Neil and the size of the coffin, that he has about twelve hours of air if he chooses to use the tank,” Oscar explains, continuing to shovel. I wonder for a brief second if they might just be doing this for dramatic effect, and that we might dig Neil up later.
But … no.
No, that’s not what’s happening.
This is it.
The final chapter of my book that includes Neil Pence.
And I do nothing to stop it.
It takes a while for the boys to finish filling in the hole, patting it nice and flat when they’re done, helping blend it into the landscape. Callum gathers leaves and twigs, scattering them over the surface, until it’s hard to tell that there was ever a disturbance here at all.
