Page 40 of Dirty Tricks

“Sorry if my aim wasn’t perfect,” he retorts. “You try getting your dick bitten off and see what your aim’s like, you fucking freak.”

“Watch your mouth.” I stand back, tilting my head as I stare down at him. “You’re not doing too well on the standing up front.”

He gives a strangled cry and launches himself upright, arms held out for balance. The colour drains from his face and he staggers sideways, catching himself on the pillory beam, then pushing away from it with a shriek when he realises he’s got his hand on the blood from his fellow sickos.

“Better,” I say, lifting the chainsaw to rest on my shoulder. “But it’s a long way downstairs. I think it’s probably easier if we just chop you into pieces here.”

“No. I’m doing it,” he shouts, taking a step towards the door. “See?”

“Cool.” I glance over to Xander. “Do you think you could drag Todd all the way outside?”

He nods and I move to stand beside him. It doesn’t matter to me that Finn’s mobile. It’s not like he poses a threat. “I could probably take his head to make him lighter.”

“Oh, yeah?” He shrugs. “You know we’ll be seen. There’s no way to clear all the people from the stairwell.”

“I don’t care about hiding,” I say, then start the chainsaw, cutting through the bone and gristle of Todd’s neck, having to roll him over midway when the blades would otherwise spark against the concrete floor.

Once the head’s separated, I bury the blade inside the cut Xander previously made, lodging it deep.

“We’re just going to walk out there, covered in blood, dragging a headless corpse?”

“And we’ll probably win first prize if there’s a costume contest.”

He slips his hand around me waist, hugging me closer. “What happens if Finn gets too mouthy?” he asks in a voice designed to carry. “You want me to shoot him?”

“Sounds like a good plan to me.”

I tilt my face up to his, then lose myself in his kiss, tingles spreading across my body like sparks of electricity.

It’s only time worming its way into my consciousness that draws me back to our task and I reluctantly pull away, hefting the chainsaw and head onto my shoulder, tucking Todd’s severed hands into my pockets. “You ready?”

“I’m ready.”

“You’re walking ahead of us,” I tell Finn. “If there’s a peep out of you at the wrong time, you’re getting kicked downstairs or you’re getting shot.”

He nods, face so drawn he’s aged twenty years.

It seems impossible that we can just walk out of the house, but the only remarks as we trek through the premises are the occasional wolf whistles of appreciation at the level of detail in our costumes. When one masked stranger lurches drunkenly close, I shake the head at them until they stagger away, laughing.

The chainsaw and head are heavy enough to make the trek tiring. It must be a hundred times worse for Xander dragging the full weight of a corpse behind him, but he doesn’t breathe a word of complaint.

A complete contrast to Finn who, even without speaking, makes enough whimpers, groans, and snorts, I’m kept up to date with his pain levels.

But we reach the entrance and from there it’s only metres to Xander’s car.

“The boot’s already full,” he says as he clicks the fob to unlock the doors. “Chuck everything in the back seat.”

The Finn component of ‘everything’ mutters dark curses and gives one loud shriek as he bends himself into the seat. Large drops of sweat bead his forehead but he manages a smile as I chuck the head into his footwell, keeping the chainsaw, and taking the gun when Xander passes it to me.

He starts the car and heads along the driveway, pausing at the end. “Where to?”

“Hospital,” Finn groans with a tone suggesting Xander’s an idiot.

Rude.

“Is this your car?”

Xander’s mouth twists into a scowl. “No, it belongs to my stepfather.” His eyes meet mine as he adds, “He’s in the boot.”

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