Prologue
Tick
Tick
Tick
I watch the hand of the clock tick away, a cruel reminder of just how limited our time is, waiting in anticipation for my sister to get back from work. Today is her 23rd birthday and I've planned a surprise party, but it's been over an hour. She usually gets back at five p.m. and it's already quarter past six in the evening.
An anxious feeling begins to stir within me, up until the point where I start to feel queasy and ill at ease. My instincts are trying to tell me something. Wendy's never late. She's never late, ever.
"What's the holdup?"
I turn to see Lee, my sister's childhood best friend, standing before me. She and all the other guests in the apartment are beginning to question the delay as well.
I shrug, glancing around, "I don't know."
I stand up from my seat, moving past the guests and taking Lee with me, "Wait with me. I'm just going to try her cell again."
"Already tried. She's not picking up," Byron, my sister's boyfriend, comments as he joins us. "It just goes straight to voicemail."
For Wendy to be late it has to be something serious. She's never been the late type. It's out of character for her.
I scowl at Byron, having never been a fan of him. He's big, bulky and covered in tattoos, but it's not just his scruffy appearance that bugs me, it's also his awful personality. He's rough, daft and cocky. He's a contrast compared to Wendy. She is a gentle, easygoing soul. It makes me wonder what she sees in Byron.
I, for one, have seen the way Byron treats my sister. He always thinks he's right, he doesn't listen to reason and seems to blame everything on my sister. I've even seen him go as far as dragging my sister by her wrist against her will.
I've noticed the bruises on her body on more than just one occasion. When I looked into it, Wendy wasn't willing to open up. She would tell me to leave Byron out of it.
I believe that she's too scared to break up with him. There have been a few times where I had to step in because Wendy had no backbone. She lets him walk all over her, yet claims to still love the 'meat head'.
To say Byron and I don't get along would be the understatement of the century. To be fair, I don't like most people, especially Wendy's friends. They're all shady characters with sketchy backgrounds.
I ignore Byron's words and call my sister anyway:
'Hi, it's Wendy. I'm not available at the moment, please leave a message after the beep.'
I hang up and try her a few more times only to end up with the same result.
"Told you," Byron says quietly, annoyed.
One of these days, I'm going to kill him.
"Do you think she's okay?" Lee asks me softly, her blue eyes lit with vulnerability.
She's transparent. She's starting to get antsy, as am I. She's slowly but surely going into panic mode.
I'm really not one to comfort people. As an ex-cop, I've been a little desensitized after the things I've seen. Nonetheless, out of the goodness of my heart, I muster up a smile for Lee's sake, "I'm sure she's fine," I reply, unconvinced myself.
Come to think of it, Wendy's been acting strangely for some time now. In fact, she's been out of character for so long that it seems almost normal.
Just as I'm about to question it further, the ringing of my own cell phone cuts me off from my thoughts. I glance down at the caller I.D. and grin to myself when I see that it's Wendy.
I was been stressing for nothing. She probably got stuck late at work or something.
"Yellow!" I greet into the phone, relieved to hear my sister's breathing from the other side of the line.
Why is she breathing so rapidly?
"You okay, Wends?"
There's a moment of silence and my stomach begins to turn, that is until she finally answers as if needing to catch her breath first, "Heya, Sis!" she exclaims happily, as always.
She's the overly joyful type, but I love her for it. She wouldn't be Wendy if she were not always so enthusiastic about life. She's a true optimist, whilst I'm the pessimistic sister - the kind that sees all as guilty until proven innocent.
Something strikes me. She didn't answer my question. She never leaves a question unanswered. She's the bubbly type that answers all questions in one breath. If that's not enough to scare me, it's the silence in her background that does.
My mind begins to wander to all kinds of possibilities - my cop, and overly protective sister, instincts kicking in. Something is definitely wrong here.
"Where are you, Wendy? I'm worried."
I decide to stop beating around the bush and come out with it. I want answers, and I want them now.
She giggles into the line, taking me by surprise, "Sorry. Got called to stay longer at work. But I'm at the front door now, so chill out, Sis."
I blow out a breath of relief.
"See you in a bit then," I say and quickly hang up, motioning for everyone to get in their respected places.
Excitement churns as they all hide behind the furniture and what not.
I go to switch off the lights, knowing that when she steps into the house and turns on the lights, she's going to get the shock of her life.
Turns out, I was the one in for a shock...
We all wait patiently when hearing the door handle turn and click before someone steps in, the lights still off. I hear someone sigh loudly and I instantly match it to the sigh of Wendy. She's here. She's finally here.
I hear her reach for the light switch, but before she gets to it, a loud, earsplitting noise goes off, temporarily deafening us all.
For a split second, I freeze, as does everyone else, all of us holding our breaths in fright.
Then it registers in my head:
A gunshot was just fired!
Suddenly - like a volcano eruption - people start to let out high-pitched screams and run, shoving each other out of the way within the darkness in order to get out of the house. Distrust leads to chaos, which leads to more chaos. People among us begin to fight and panic as fear sets in.
I've seen this before. It's an all too familiar setting.
I force myself to remain calm and level-headed, having been put under a situation like this before, back when I was a cop. I get up off my haunches and push through the crowds to where I know the light is. However, I first lock the door so that no one can escape. The culprit is still among us.
I don't hesitate to switch the light on.
Paranoia tends to get the best of me. I always readily keep a weapon on me, but this is the one time I don't have one on me and it's almost as if the world knows it.
The light begins to flood the room, and I'm left looking down at the bloody mess that is now my sister.
I fall to my knees and search for a pulse, but there's nothing there. I retrieve my bloodied hand from her neck and check for a pulse in her wrist instead. Still, there's nothing. I look into her eyes and see that they're already empty, lifeless.
She's gone.
"Wendy!" Lee screams like the dead upon seeing the body.
I look up to see Byron shoving people out of the way as he makes his way to me, to Wendy, with a pained expression on his face.
In that moment, the very moment that I realize I've lost the last of my family, everything stills and time seems to stop.
People try to rush out the house only to find that I've locked the door. They're all afraid, but I barely notice, all my attention focused on my sister. All their screams dull out until all I can hear is my own faint breathing, and my own echoing heartbeat.
It's just me and her in the room.
I lift my hand to her warm face and gently close her eyes, letting her go in dignity. "I'm sorry," I whisper to the lifeless shell.
The sorrow leaves and becomes replaced with pure fury as I look at the bullet wound. The bullet exited through her back. That means that she was shot by someone inside the house.
She was shot right in the heart, it's why she died instantly. She was the target, the only target. This was no accident. This was a planned murder and it has gone down precisely as wanted.
Something within me instantly begins to change and I can already tell that I'm not going to like it. I lose myself, taking impulsive actions instead. I jump back to my feet, fiery determination burning in my veins. I slam the front door closed again seeing as the people had unlocked it manually.
With tears in my eyes, I clench my hands into angry fists as I search the faces of everyone in the house, memorizing all their features, everything that makes them unique, everything that makes them stand out.
Then I speak, and I speak in such fierce conviction that my own words are unrecognizable to me, "One of you here today did this. You're still among us even now. I have all your names, your numbers, your addresses..." I threaten. "I might not know who you are now, but know that I will hunt you down until I find you, and when I do...run...because I'm going to kill you."
Everyone falls quiet at my words except of course for the hushed wailing. I move my gaze to everyone in the room, my eyes meeting all theirs as I give them a piercing stare. I can't trust any of them anymore.
It's then that I hear police sirens nearby. It's not assuring because as an ex-cop, I know how useless we are. They won't be of any help to me.
I need to know who did this.
I'm going to have to resort to other measures.
"Whoever you are, I won't stop until I find you, until I watch you take your last breath," I warn one last time before the cops burst in through the doors.