A New Brand of Redemption.

It had to be true. Because if it was…Oh God, if it was that meant it was okay that he’d lived too. Holding his arms tightly against his chest, Marcus fought down the sob in his throat. He tried to stay in control of himself, but he really couldn’t stop the tears that stung his eyes.
A mistake, he thought. It was just a stupid mistake. It was just something his mind had invented when he’d seen the ambulances and Megan. She really had looked so much like her world was caving in around her. It hadn’t been though, because Officer Wyler couldn’t be lying could he?
Looking him in the eye, Marcus said, “Promise me. Tell me you know for absolute certain Trevor’s really alright.”
The young officers brow creased as he asked, “Why would I lie?”
“To keep me from freaking out or I… I don’t even know,” Marcus stammered. “Just promise!”
“Okay. I promise. Trevor’s really alright. I spoke to him not five minutes ago.”
For a second Marcus blanked. Then he said almost disbelievingly, “You talked to him.”
“Yes.”
“Meaning what? Is he here? At the hospital?”
Officer Wyler looked strangely uncomfortable as he said, “No. He went home after I spoke with him.”
“Home,” Marcus repeated.
He savored the sound of the word. It made him feel a little less filthy to imagine Trevor leaving; just brushing off the dirt and going home. He might even be with Megan. Marcus glanced at the phone and wondered if her number was listed.

This is it. This is how it all ends or maybe just begins. Either way, it’s how it has to be, Brett thought.
He was standing alone in a corridor that was just starting to be brightened by the first rays of morning light. As the pools of shadows disappeared around him, Brett’s gaze stayed fixed on the battered door he stood in front of. He knew in a minute he would walk through that door. Then at six a.m. on a Saturday he would kill Megan Alexander. He also knew it would be more intelligent to wait for night and the cover of darkness. But when he touched the chipped gold doorknob, he knew he couldn’t make himself do that. It had to be over.
This has to end, Brett thought as he started to turn the knob. Then he realized he was locked out. It wasn’t really surprising considering what part of town he was in. After he entered the apartment building, Brett could still feel the seedy filth of the streets he’d walked.
“You’d have to be stupid not to lock your door,” he muttered as he double checked the corridor to make sure it was still empty. Then Brett pulled a credit card out of his wallet to try to disengage the lock. After a few minutes, he heard the soft click he was waiting for. Then he pushed past the door and walked into the room beyond.

It’s strange, Brett thought as he stared down impassively at Megan. People normally looked so peaceful when they slept. Every care or worry they had just seemed to disappear as they slipped into nothingness. Not Megan. Even asleep she looked like she wasn’t really resting. It was like her body had betrayed her by giving into exhaustion while she lay on her couch.
It was better that way. It made things easier if Megan was asleep. He could kill her quickly and quietly. And then it would be over. But first, he needed something to kill Megan with. Brett’s eyes darted around the room as he wondered what he could use. What he wanted was an actual weapon. Something like a gun or a knife. A knife…Of course! That was perfect. Megan had to have at least one in her kitchen. Smiling satisfied, Brett went to go look.
After going through a few different drawers, he found what he was looking for. A long thin knife with a dangerously sharp edge. Brett picked it up and held it to his side as he started to walk back to the living room. That was when he heard a noise that made his blood run cold. A phone was ringing VERY LOUDLY.
Shit! Shit! Shit! Brett thought viciously as he froze in place. The phone was sitting on the coffee table right in front of the couch. There was no way it wouldn’t wake her up.
The thing went off for what felt like a long long time. Then Brett heard a sleepy female voice say, “Hello.”
Brett held his breath and listened closely. He tried to think of what to do, but then his mind went blank, because the next thing Megan said didn’t make any sense.
“Marcus!” she cried angrily. “How dare you call me. After what you did, how dare you call me?”
How could Marcus call her at all? He was suppose to be dead!
“No. I…What are you taking about?” Megan asked to confusedly after he said something.
What had Marcus said? Why was he calling her? Had he confessed? Had he told someone what they’d done? To blinded by anger and fear to consider the consequences, Brett marched into the next room to find out.

“No,” Megan answered him; clearly confused. “I…What are you talking about?”
Marcus couldn’t answer her. He could only shut his eyes and hold the phone so tight it hurt his hand. No. He’d asked Megan if Trevor was dead and she’d replied no. It didn’t seem possible that she was telling the truth, but Marcus knew she was. She had to be.
He bit his lip so hard he tasted blood. Then Marcus said, “I’m talking about a mistake. I can’t really explain in right now, but when you see Trevor tell him I’m so very sorry.”
He waited for the cold angry reply he knew was coming, but there was only silence. Had Megan hung up? Marcus what about to say her name when he heard it…heavy panicked breathing.
Gripping the phone even tighter, he asked, “What’s wrong Megan?”
She whispered so quietly he almost didn’t hear, “Help me Marcus.”
Then the line went dead and he screamed, “Officer Wyler!”

When Megan realized Brett was behind her, he was only a few feet away. She noticed a flicker of movement in her T.V. screen and then she saw it was him. And unless she was very much mistaken he was holding a knife in one hand.
She found herself whispering, “Help me Marcus.”
Then Megan jumped to her feet and ran.