Page 20 of Monster Made
Sometimes, I wonder if Tragen’s relative kindness is due to him worrying I could blow a fuse. But that would be ridiculous, because Tragen is far more bloodthirsty than me. At the same time, I doubt such a hardened soldier as he is actually has it in him to care, especially about anyone as fucked up as me.
He probably sees me as a good future asset, and is very careful not to ruffle my feathers, so that I, along with the rest of the soldiers, make it out of this training program in one piece.
Whatever the case is, I’m feeling pretty well-rested today as I grab my gun and loop it on my belt so it hangs against the back of my jeans. Then I head out on my bike, but not in the direction of school, even though it’s Friday and I have class. I go a few blocks to my right and park right outside the Campbell home.
I know Ray has a free period this morning, so he’s probably sleeping in. And I see two cars in the driveway, which means both his parents are still at home, probably eating a leisurely breakfast, without any awareness of the absolute shitstorm heading their way.
I’ve never killed a man before, but I know I absolutely have it in me as I kick in their door, using so much force it splinters under my foot.
I hear a woman scream, chair legs scuffing the floor, and feet shuffling down the staircase.
The staircase being closest to me, I see Ray Campbell first.
The asshole stops, frozen, in the middle of the stairs, staring at me. I had come to see his dad, not him, but when my eyes take in his stupid jock appearance, suspicion rankles in my chest.
“What’d you do to her?” I growl.
His eyes fall to my gun, widening, then slowly lift toward me. “Uhm…” He swallows. “Who?”
“Who do you fucking think?”
I take a few steps toward him, stopping only when the barrel of my gun presses into his chest.
“Fuck… fuck, Quill…” he gasps.
“Quill!” calls out a voice I recognize as Al Campbell’s. “Come on in here, son. Let’s have a chat.”
I ignore him, as well as the terrified sobs of his wife, my attention entirely focused on Ray. “What did you fucking do to Piper Day?” I insist.
“I… I… nothing, Quill… nothing… I fucking swear…”
Liar. Fucking liar.I can smell the bullshit emanating from his pores. Maybe I’m slow, in a way, because up till now I hadn’t thought aboutwhyPiper wanted revenge against Ray, only that she’d gotten it in the worst way possible. But seeing the asshole in front of me is enough to make me forget why I came here in the first place.
And that was to kill his dad.
Or something.
The truth is, I didn’t exactly have a plan before barging in. All I knew was that I had to neutralize the threat to Piper, and violence was going to be my answer.
I lift my gun from Ray’s chest and he breathes in relief, only to let out a strangled cry when I instead push it against his forehead.
“Quill,” says Al Campbell again, his voice louder now that he’s walked into the entrance hall, “I’m calling Tragen.”
Yeah, well, fuck you too.
His words only make me that much more determined to shoot his fucking son and make him watch. Does he really think I’mscaredof Tragen? Or does he think I’m just some lab rat he and his piece of shit colleague can fucking control?
I’m going to show them. I’m going to fucking show them.
I put my finger on the trigger, causing Ray’s eyes to bulge out of their sockets. And I hear his dad’s shaky voice as he says, “Yeah, uhm, Tragen? Your soldier has his gun to my son’s head. Uh huh. Quill Nelson.”
“Last words,” I hiss to Ray, and I have the satisfaction of hearing, and smelling, the asshole piss his pants.
Useless piece of shit.
“Well?”
He opens and closes his mouth helplessly, as his mother leans against the bannister, sobbing.
