Spilled Blood

St. Croix girls.

The taller girl swaggered toward Ashlynn until she was practically in her face. She carried a beer bottle in her hand, and when she spoke, a hoppy aroma wafted from her mouth. ‘Ashlynn Steele. I don’t believe it.’

‘Hello, Olivia,’ Ashlynn said calmly.

Olivia Hawk was a year younger than Ashlynn. The girl was five-feet-ten, bony and pretty. Her legs were long matchsticks squeezed inside ratty jeans, and she wore an untucked flannel shirt over a white T-shirt that let an inch of her flat stomach peek through. She had long chestnut hair and intense brown eyes. She was smart and fiery, and Ashlynn could see naked emotion in the girl’s face.

‘What are you doing here?’ Olivia demanded. Her voice cracked, more with misery than anger. She was drunk.

Other girls resented Ashlynn because of who she was: the daughter of Florian Steele; rich in a town where everyone else scraped by; blond, small, beautiful. That was enough, but with Olivia, there was more. Even if there had been no feud between the towns, no ugly secrets, the two of them would never have been friends.

‘I got a flat tire,’ Ashlynn said.

‘So where were you tonight?’

‘Nowhere,’ Ashlynn replied.

She heard the unspoken accusation from Olivia: You were in St. Croix, weren’t you? It wasn’t true, but she had no intention of sharing what had really happened. That was her own secret.

‘What about you two?’ Ashlynn asked. ‘Why are you here?’

‘You wouldn’t understand,’ Olivia said.

‘Try me.’

‘We’re here for Kimberly, okay? The three of us used to hang out here.’

Ashlynn closed her eyes and felt Olivia’s grief and anger wash over her. She understood. She’d intruded on something sacred.

‘Kimberly died two years ago tonight, Ashlynn,’ Olivia went on. ‘You probably don’t remember.’

‘Yes, I do. Of course, I do.’

‘She was my best friend.’

‘I know that.’

‘She was bald, and she weighed seventy-nine pounds when she died.’

Ashlynn winced at the image. She hadn’t known Kimberly well, but she remembered the girl’s death. Kimberly. Vince. Lynn. Gail. Drew. She remembered each of the St. Croix teenagers who had died of leukemia in the last five years. Every ghost cast a guilty shadow on her.

‘It was a terrible thing, Olivia,’ Ashlynn said. ‘Awful.’

Olivia jabbed a finger in her face. ‘Don’t pretend you understand. You have no idea what it’s like to lose someone close to you.’

Ashlynn couldn’t stop herself. She laughed, which was the worst thing she could do. It was a strangled, tragic laugh that made her face twitch and made Olivia red with anger. She tried to compose herself and defuse the situation before it got out of control. ‘I’m sorry. Please, Olivia, let’s not do this now.’

‘Fuck you,’ Olivia told her in a slurred voice. ‘I hate you.’

Ashlynn simply wanted the confrontation to be over. She wanted to be alone to cry. She turned her attention to the other teenager, who stood off to the side of the swing, staring at the ground. If anyone would help her, it was Tanya Swenson.

‘How are you, Tanya?’ she asked.

Tanya was a moon-faced, curly-haired redhead. She was shy and withdrawn, a girl who trailed in the wake of a smart, outgoing friend like Olivia. She was a Barron girl, but she’d wound up in the St. Croix clique because of her friendship with Olivia and Kimberly – and because of her father. Tanya’s father was the attorney who had led the charge to take down Mondamin Research in court.

That was how it all started. That was how the blood feud between the towns began.

Tanya squeezed her hands in her pockets. ‘I’m okay.’

Ashlynn wanted to see the girl’s eyes. She wanted Tanya to acknowledge the silent bond between them. You know I’m not the enemy.

‘Do you have your car here, Tanya?’ she asked.

The heavy, short girl shuffled on her feet. ‘Um, yeah.’

‘I could use a ride home.’

‘She’s not taking you anywhere,’ Olivia interrupted them. ‘No way.’

‘Is that true, Tanya?’ Ashlynn asked. ‘Really?’

‘I – I don’t know. I guess I can’t.’

Ashlynn sighed in frustration. She had no strength to fight. ‘Fine. Whatever. I’ll sleep in my car, Olivia. Will that make you happy?’

‘Happy? You think we’re here for laughs?’

‘I know why you’re here, but this has nothing to do with me. I’ve been driving for hours. I’m tired. I’m leaving.’

Ashlynn got off the swing, but Olivia shoved her back hard. She spilled off her feet, grabbing the rope for balance. The swing jerked in a crazy circle, and her knee slipped into the mud. Cramps knifed through her abdomen, so sharp that they took her breath away. She tried to get up, but she couldn’t, so she bent over with both hands in the dirt.

‘Please don’t,’ Ashlynn murmured, breathing raggedly.

Olivia was crying. She shouted through her tears. ‘Do you have any idea how scared Kimberly was? She was fourteen, and she was dying. Do you think that’s right? Do you think that’s fair?’

‘No. It’s not.’

‘People like you don’t have a clue how horrible it is. You sit there with your perfect life while the rest of us go through hell. You know what I want? I want you to suffer like Kimberly did. I want you to be as scared as she was.’

Ashlynn thought about screaming back at her – You don’t know anything! – but none of this was Olivia’s fault. She looked away to hide her own grief, but she only made it worse. Olivia misinterpreted her reaction. She thought Ashlynn didn’t care, which wasn’t true. Not at all.

Olivia dug inside a satchel purse slung over her shoulder and came out with something in her hand. Ashlynn’s heart turned over with a thump in her chest. Her stomach seared with pain. Olivia held a revolver, grimy and old, with a three-inch barrel.

Tanya’s eyes widened into full moons as she saw the gun. ‘Livvy! What are you doing? Where did you get that?’

‘Quiet,’ Olivia snapped.

The gun squirmed in her young fingers. She used her thumb to drag the hammer back, cocking the weapon. She aimed the barrel at Ashlynn’s face and held it so close that the metal almost touched her forehead. Her finger slid over the trigger.

‘Scared?’ she asked Ashlynn.

‘Yes.’

‘Terrified?’

‘Yes.’

‘Good.’

Tanya’s voice squeaked. ‘Livvy, cut it out. Quit it!’

Olivia stared at Ashlynn. Inches separated their faces. The two girls were both unsure where the line in the sand was drawn between them. How far it would go. How bad it would be. Ashlynn felt something wet in her jeans; it was either urine or blood.

‘Please, Olivia, put it down,’ she whispered.

‘Do you think I don’t have the guts? Do you think I won’t do it?’

‘Killing me won’t change anything.’

Olivia swung the gun at the squat tree trunk, took hold of the butt with both hands, and jerked on the trigger. The gun exploded with a roar that made all of them jump. Bark burst from the trunk in a dust cloud as a bullet