Read Online What Blood Leaves Behind (The Poison Rose) by Delany Beaumont - Free Book Online Page A

always keep it loaded at night. I slip outside, pulling the door shut behind me. Leaning against the door, breathing heavily, I look down but can’t make out anything beyond the glare of light from the motorcycles.
    I’m sure they can see me. There are a few shouts, some laughter but I can’t understand what they’re saying.
    There’s no point in hiding. I step to the railing and try to call out above the noise. “What do you want?” My words are chopped into pieces by the stuttering chunka-chunka of the bikes as they idle below me.
    “We want you.” It’s the voice of a young man, high and confident. There’s more laughter.
    “Get out of here. We’re not hurting you. Just leave us alone.”
    “Come on now. You’re here looking for help, right? Well, help has arrived.” More laughter. The voice reminds me of William’s, so self-assured and theatrical, like the man behind it is performing on stage. But it’s the voice of someone older, someone more mature.
    Another voice says, “Just cut the crap and get down here.”
    I hear a woman’s laugh. “Or we’ll come up and get you.”
    I’ve been cradling the rifle, holding it to my chest, one hand on the stock, one hand on the barrel. I bring it into position, lock the stock against my shoulder. I can’t see anything through the site, just a blur of light, so I look past it. “Did your friends tell you I have a gun? Try me and I’ll take out as many of you as I can.”
    There’s still more laughter and words I can’t make out above the noise. I fire into the open air directly in front of me, above their heads. There’s not much of a reaction. “We don’t scare so easily, little girl,” the first voice I heard says.
    I jerk the bolt back, jam it into place. This time I aim for a spot right above the headlight of one of the motorcycles. I can’t see what I’m shooting at. I’m not sure if I deliberately want to hit one of them or just come close enough to scare them off.
    The sound of the bikes as they idle drops for a few seconds, just long enough that I think I can hear the clatter of footsteps somewhere to the left of me, in the direction of the staircase. Then one of the riders guns his engine and the sound makes me flinch, lose my focus. I try to pick out a target again, searching the space somewhere above the bright glare of the headlights.
    I pull the trigger.
    My shot cuts through the noise. I hear a scream and one of the bikes tumbles to its side. A mirror smashes. There’s shouting, confusion. “God damn, she shot him!” I hear. I feel the hot breath of one of the children against the back of my neck. I look over my shoulder and it’s Emily. I snap at her, “Get back in the room!”
    There’s a swirl of movement directly below me. Most of the bikes have fallen silent and the headlights have been extinguished. Although I still can’t see them, I imagine the riders have dismounted to fan out across the area.
    I take a deep breath and holler out over the relative silence. “I’ll give you one more chance.” My voice is high-pitched and screechy. I take another breath and try hard to fill my words with authority. “Clear out or I’ll kill you all.” I’m sure I sound like a child, not frightening in the least.
    I can’t see them. I don’t know where they are. Although I hold a weapon I’m almost helpless.
    “Look out!”
    It’s Emily, not as close now but still behind me. I turn and see the shadowy outline of her body framed by the motel room’s door. I take a few steps toward her, intending to push her back into the room and take a position in the doorway myself, when I see her put her hand to her mouth and her whole body tense as if she’s about to be struck.
    But I’m the one who feels the explosion of blinding pain, senses something blunt and heavy cracking down on the roof of my skull. There is another burst of bright light but this time inside my head. I sink to my knees, the rifle clattering on the cement of the