“Get some kind of reaction out of him.”
“Instead of him just sitting there.”
“Sitting there like a dope and dying.”
The girls leaned over Will and peered into his face. Their faces looked distorted, so close to his face and all. Their blue eyes looked as if they were popping out of their heads.
“Do something,” Jessica told him.
“Do something, asshole,” Susan said.
They kept watching him.
“It’s not too late to stab him, I suppose,” Jessica said.
“You think?” Susan said.
Please don’t stab me, Will thought. I’m afraid of knives. Please don’t stab me.
“Let’s see what’s in the kitchen,” Jessica said.
He was suddenly alone.
The girls were suddenly gone.
Behind him…
If he could not turn his head to see them.
… behind him he could hear them rummaging through what he guessed was one of the kitchen drawers, could hear the rattle of utensils…
Please don’t stab me, he thought.
“How about this one?” Jessica asked.
“Looks awfully big for the job,” Susan said.
“Slit his fuckin’ throat good,” Jessica said, and laughed.
“See if he sits there like a dope then,” Susan said.
“Get some kind of reaction out of him.”
“Help us to feel something.”
“Now you’ve got it, Sue. That’s the whole point.”
Will’s chest was beginning to feel tight. He was beginning to have difficulty breathing.
In the kitchen, the girls laughed again.
Why were they laughing?
Had they just said something he couldn’t hear? Were they going to do something else with that knife, other than slit his throat? He wished he could take a deep breath. He knew he would feel so much better if he could just take a deep breath. But he… he… he didn’t seem to be… to be able to…
“Hey!” Jessica said. “You! Don’t poop out on us!”
Susan looked at her.
“I think he’s gone,” she said.
“Shit!” Jessica said.
“What are you doing?”
“Taking his pulse.”
Susan waited.
“Nothing,” Jessica said, and dropped his wrist.
The sisters kept looking at Will where he sat slumped in the easy chair, his mouth still hanging open, his eyes wide.
“He sure as hell looks dead,” Jessica said.
“We’d better get him out of here.”
“Be a good exercise,” Jessica said. “Getting rid of the body.”
“I’ll say. I’ll bet he weighs at least a hun’ ninety.”
“I didn’t say good exercise, Sue. I said a good exercise. A good acting exercise.”
“Oh. Right. What it feels like to get rid of a dead body. Right.”
“So let’s do it,” Jessica said.
They started lifting him out of the chair. He was, in fact, very heavy. They half-carried him, half-dragged him to the front door.
“Tell me something,” Susan said. “Do you… you know… feel anything yet?”
“Nothing,” Jessica said.