Grim Reaper 01 - Embrace the Grim Reaper

breathing hard, Holly’s gun in his hand. “Don’t. Move.” With his free hand he pulled a phone out of his pocket.
    Casey eased upward, onto her knees, and Thomas placed his gun a foot from Eric’s head, his eyes not leaving Casey’s face.
    “Yes, hello,” he said into his phone. “The people you’re looking for? They’re at the theater. I have to go.” He closed the phone and shoved it back into his pocket. “Now let’s all just play nice until they get here.”
    Holly reared upward, the back of her head connecting with Eric’s face, blood splattering across her shirt and Eric’s chin. Holly twisted around to face him, her teeth bared, and Eric launched himself out of Casey’s grasp, grabbing Holly’s hair and pounding her head against the floor.
    “Stop!” Thomas screamed. He raised the gun toward Eric.
    Casey leaned on her left hand and swung her right foot, sweeping Thomas off his feet. His arm slammed against the floor and the gun discharged, the sound echoing in the room. Blood flew everywhere and Eric jerked to a stop, falling back hard onto the floor. Casey leapt to her feet and grabbed the gun from Thomas, throwing it out into the hallway.
    She dropped beside Eric, her hands exploring his body, searching for the wound. “Eric. Eric, oh, God, I’m sorry. Where is it?”
    He grasped her hands. “It’s not me.”
    “What?”
    Thomas whimpered, and Eric sat up, clutching Casey. Holly’s eyes were wide open, as if in surprise. Her face looked perfect. But most of her neck was gone.
    Eric leaned away from Casey, breathing fast and hard. Casey placed a hand on his shoulder, waiting for him to vomit.
    He didn’t.
    “Coffee,” he said.
    “What?”
    “The autopsy showed Ellen had been drinking coffee. She thought…she thought she was having one of her talks with Holly. Instead, Holly was putting drugs in her cup. Ellen was trying to be a good friend…and she was being murdered .”
    Casey squeezed his shoulder, and he took several shaky breaths.
    “You have to go,” he finally said.
    Casey shook her head.
    “You need to leave, Casey. Get out before the cops come.”
    “But, Eric—”
    “Please. I don’t want you to have to— Just go.”
    She looked at Thomas, slumped on the floor, his face empty, but avoided another look at Holly.
    “Eric…” She smoothed his hair away from his forehead, her hands cradling his face.
    He put his own hands up, pressing hers against his cheeks. “Good-bye, Casey Smith.”
    Tears stung her eyes. “Good-bye, Eric Jones.”
    She leaned forward and touched his lips briefly with hers.
    Looking into his eyes one more time she pushed herself up, and ran.

Chapter Forty-six
    Casey could hear the sirens coming from every direction.
    Ducking out the back of the theater, she raced to the cover of the neighbor’s yard, wishing the darkness weren’t already disappearing into dawn. Avoiding main streets, she listened carefully for the placement of the sirens, staying clear of them as she ran. Almost more dangerous were the houses, with their windows. The residents of Clymer had to be hearing the morning’s activities, and the sight of a woman sprinting through their back alleys wouldn’t be something they’d ignore. With a stab of grief she knew she didn’t dare try to get back to Eric’s block, where her bag waited in his neighbor’s garage.
    Sticking to the tree lines, Casey made her way toward the only place she could think of. The only chance she had. She prayed the cops had abandoned their post there, thinking they had her at the theater.
    She approached the outer part of town more slowly. Just a person walking along the sidewalk. No hurry. No worries.
    The Burger Palace parking lot was devoid of cop cars. She could see it even as she approached. The diner had its usual empty lot. She was in the clear.
    Slipping in the side of The Burger Palace, she was able to avoid the eye of the girl at the counter and make her way to the bathroom. She locked the door behind her and kept her eyes away from the mirror. Stripping off her shirt, she scrubbed her face and neck, the water in the basin turning pink. Again, blood that was not her own.
    After rinsing off her head and rubbing it with paper towels, she ran her fingers through her hair before daring a glance in the mirror. There she was, a clean-faced woman who’d just taken a shower and had come to grab a quick cup of coffee before work. The lip wasn’t attractive, certainly, but at least it