Page 103 of Buried Beneath Sin

My unease shifts to outright concern. On light feet, I head to the office. When I poke my head in, I find it empty. Quickly, I close the door and make my way to the service room. If Beatrix isn’t in the preparation room and she wasn’t in the back or in the office, she must be here… right?

I stop within the threshold of the room where funeral services are held. It’s utterly silent. Silent… and empty. I don’t bother calling out for Beatrix. It’s clear she’s not here. My heart skips a beat. Without wasting any more time, I hurry to the front of the business, lock up, and take off in the direction Sagan and Knox had disappeared in. As I get to the top of the hill, I see the two of them. Both are in the middle of the old, overgrown cemetery. Knox is shoveling frantically while Sagan is on his knees using his hands to move dirt from a gravesite.

That can’t be good. Just seeing Knox doing any sort of manual labor would be alarming in and of itself. But to see him doing it with such panic in his movements only makes it more so. I take off, sprinting toward the two of them, an unusual urgency urging me on. What does this have to do with Beatrix?

“What the hell is going on?” I demand breathlessly as I approach.

“Shut up and dig!” Sagan snaps.

“What are we looking?—”

“I buried Starr Girl!” Knox cries out without looking up at me. “And then I kind of forgot about her while I re-cleaned the inside of the people cooking room.”

My heart skips a beat. Before it has time to reset, I'm on my hands and knee beside Sagan, shoving my hand into the dirt.

“What the fuck where you thinking, Knox?” I snarl.

“It was her punishment!”

Fury battles the panic constricting my chest. “How long has she been down here?”

“Ah, four, maybe four and a half hours?” Knox stammers as he shovels. “I didn’t account for the time it would take to bury her and fill in all the dirt.”

Fear claws up my throat. How long can someone survive being buried? Could she have suffocated already? No, I refuse to believe that. Beatrix Starr isnotfucking dead. I just sunk my claws into her. I'm not through basking in her reverence or ready to lose such a lovely little treat. Rage erupts, and for a second, I want to throttle Knox.

“Goddamn it, Knox!” I shout, unable to help the well of fury bubbling up.

Knox groans before he huffs out, “I didn't intend to forget about her. I got distracted and?—”

His shovel hits something. The thud causes us all to pause for half a second. When we launch into action once more, doubling our efforts. It takes another few minutes for the entire coffin to come into view, but when it does, I'm not relieved. For one thing, the coffin looks ancient. It looks nothing like the modern ones inside the funeral home. The wooden shell is moldy, rotten through in some places, and maggots wiggle through the creases. But if the appearance and stench radiating from the box is bad, the silence that greets us is even worse.

A strange ringing starts in my ears, making my brain itch and eyesight blurry. My heart is acting strange. Is this what panic feels like? I don’t think I've actually experienced it before myself, but I’m starting to think the rioting inside of me might be the start of it.

Knox crouches down and yanks the lid off the top. On the other side of it are claw marks, bloody and deep. A fingernail is lodged in the wood. My stomach clenches tight as my gaze jumps from it to the woman inside. There, laying utterly still inside the coffin, is my stepsister. She’s naked, covered in sweat, and has blood smeared all over her hands, torso, and face.

“Beatrix!” I call out as all three of us descend upon her at once.

I shove Knox away as he reaches down for her, only for Sagan to do the same to me. I tumble to the side as Sagan scoops her up and pulls her out of the coffin. I scramble to my feet with a snarl.

“Is she alive?!” Knox cries out. “Shit, shit, shit!”

Sagan lowers her into the cold grass, and as I kneel down beside her, he checks her pulse along her neck.

“There's a heartbeat,” he announces grimly. “It’s faint but there.”

Knox looks between us. “Do either of you know CPR?”

Sagan is already at it, pushing down on her chest for several beats before pressing his mouth against hers to inflate her lungs. I hold my breath and watch. Killing is one thing. Killing iseasy,but saving someone? I know nothing about that. Nothing about life-saving procedures or the right type of care. I didn't even know Sagan knew CPR. Maybe he's making it up? Could he be doing it wrong? Anxiously, I wait for something to happen. Foranythingto happen. Time ticks by. The longer Sagan works, the more I’m sure she's not going to make it. My chest constricts painfully, and for a second, I find myself struggling to breathe.

I may be a killer, but I have rules and boundaries. Promises and decisions are not made lightly, due in part to the fact that there is no breaking them without severe consequences. Our lives, and freedom, depend upon being able to trust one another, to stick to plans, to the rules set in place. We took a vote, and it was decided Beatrix Starr would be one of us if she asked us forhelp. And when she did finally reach out, she instantly became part of the family. Knox lost that vote, but he had to abide by the decision. Hepromisedto behave.

But I should've seen this coming. Knox is more spontaneous than either Sagan or me. He doesn't always think his actions through. It’s his youth. While he just hit twenty-five, my brother and I are closing in on forty. We've done the spontaneous lifestyle and became less so as we got better at what we did. Knox didn’t have to learn to think things through, he’s had us to guide him. Look what this has led to. If we haven’t killed our stepsister, we certainly broke whatever trust we’ve gained with her. My hands curl slowly into tight fists as denial and anger war with one another.

Knox steps up, as if to take over for Sagan, but one look from me and he freezes.

“I didn’t mean for this to happen,” he says quickly.

The rage that boils the blood in my veins makes it hard to think. A heavy tremor rushes through me as I glare at him.

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