Family Murders: A Thriller by Henry Carver

surprise as it reached down from above and latched onto the hand holding the knife. Ted sputtered, and the arm started twisting. It twisted fast and hard, and Ted dropped the knife. He let go of Julie, pushed her really, and she stumbled toward the hole.
    Somehow, like she had seen Rocky do an hour ago, Angela acted on instinct and moved , really moved, around the gap and down onto her knees. She put out her arm, grabbed Julie, and stopped her from falling. For one beautiful second it was just the two of them, mother and daughter, looking at each other. She would have sworn Julie smiled. Then the world came roaring back up to full speed just as she had to duck.
    Ted had stumbled away from the disembodied arm, and now the rest of a person had started to follow. Eric's head came through, and then his body. He forced his torso through the ever-expanding gap in the plastic wall like a baby being born. For one sweet second, Ted's face drained like a tub with the plug pulled. Then it filled with blood again, turning a red so deep it was almost purple. He grunted and started forward, only pausing to get a grip on Julie's other arm and yank her across the gap and in front of him again. This time she was between him and Eric, and Angela saw her chance. She charged, and felt a kind of elation at the release of energy it took. No more thinking, no more worrying, just forward motion, action. Ted didn't even turn to look at her.
    He didn't have to, just stiff-armed her in the chest and she bounced back. Strangely, it felt like being hit with a ball of tissue paper that had been soaked in warm water. She scrabbled to unstick the wet mass from her chest, but wasn't able to. It was more rod-like than anything, and it seemed to be attached. She pulled her hand away, and it came back slick with blood.
    Realization dawned slowly. There was something sticking out of the side of her chest. An image flashed across her brain: if her torso had been a clock, a fillet knife would now be indicating approximately two-thirty. 'Morning or afternoon?' she wondered briefly, then sat down heavily on a bag of cement. She put her elbows on her knees and supported her head with her hands, which seemed to expend all her reserves. All she could do now was watch.
    "Let her go." Eric's voice exploded into the confined space.
    "It's nice to see you again, Eric."
    "I've thought about you every day. I've thought about you more than my own sister. You're not ready for me, so just let her go."
    "That's funny, I can't recall thinking of you much. So we got caught up in one little fight—I barely remember what all this fuss is about."
    Eric started forward. From the small of his back Ted produced a small silver pistol.
    "Turns out I did come ready after all. I want you to walk over near Angela now." The silver gun was pointed right at his chest. "You know, I wanted this to be another knife thing, because that's more your style, but it looks like you'll be changing your M.O. What the hell, it's been ten years, right? And I suppose you've really matured as a person."
    Ted started circling again, closing in, forcing him over towards the cement bags. Eric took a few steps closer, and Ted raised the gun towards him, ts-tsked again, then pressed it into Julie's temple.
    "Julie, listen to me." Eric had bent down and was looking her right in the eye. "I'm going to start coming at this piece of—at your Dad, and then he's going to have to stop pointing that thing at you."
    Ted's eyes narrowed. "Stop talking to her."
    "He's going to have to stop pointing it at you and point it at me instead. When that happens I want you to run and hide. Do you understand? Nod if you understand."
    Julie pushed against the hand and managed a small up and down.
    "I call your bluff," Ted said, "you're not going anywhere."
    "Ready?" Eric said, and started walking.
    "Stop. Stop," Ted said. Julie tensed her body. "God damn it, stop!"
    When Eric was four feet away, Ted shrugged his shoulders and raised