David’s thoughts were filled with more sorrow and insanity and love and hatred than he’d ever known. It was a struggle to find any single thought to hold onto, but standing there, so close to Shade, he managed to pick out the most pressing one.
“She killed Ricky,” he said.
Anne’s heart skipped a beat or twelve. Her heart had been racing so fast before he said that, but the fact that he knew? That was fucked up. Given the way he was acting, Anne figured he was totally ready to kill her.
“Shade killed Ricky,” David said.
At that moment, Anne’s heart didn’t skip a beat. It forgot there was a beat. It started dancing the robot, because it was so incredibly confused as to how the fuck David could have gotten things so wrong.
David lunged for Shade. His body cast a shadow, which engulfed Shade. She teleported just a foot away, in the shadow of the couch. She wasn’t going to leave Anne to deal with this psychopath by herself.
Anne dashed towards her bedroom door.
David didn’t notice her. He looked at Shade.
“Why’d you do it?” David asked. “What made you kill my friend?”
Anne struggled to breathe, as she reached her bedroom. Looked at the workbench, as well as the various tools lying around it: the laser saw, the gauntlet, the harpoon, the boots.
The situation was so horrifying, she realized she couldn’t be afraid anymore. That was the thing about being anxious all the time; when the big stuff hit, you were used to being worried. It didn’t hit you in the same way.
She picked up the gauntlet, for if she could reason with him — the harpoon, for if she couldn’t.