Posted by PK on July 12, 2004 at 16:33:00:
"I don't suppose you have a garbage disposal chute here, do you?" Amanda inquired. "I've
always wanted to see one."
Sophie nodded. She mumbled directions and watched, almost beyond disbelief, as Amanda
took Armand and Eddie out and, presumably, tossed them down the chute like..well.. two
sacks of garbage. When the Destroyer reappeared, dusting her hands just a little theatrically,
she was still standing in the middle of the room. Still naked. It hardly seemed to matter.
"Where did I put that Chateau Thunderbird?" Amanda mused. "Gotta toist..."
Sophie remembered that Armand's gun was still on the floor. Maybe she should have picked
it up. Would it have made any difference? Of course, the maniac couldn't really be
bulletproof, could she?
Amanda offered the bottle, having taken a draught straight from the neck. "Sorry, manners..."
Sophie took the bottle. "Thanks," she said. Her throat did feel a little dry. She gulped, choked
slightly and handed it back. Her vision blurred for a second and then cleared. "Are you going
to kill me now?" she asked.
Amanda smiled, put the bottle down and stepped closer. She put her hands on Sophie's
shoulders. Strong hands, strong as a man's, but not gripping painfully hard. Sophie stared
straight into her face. She didn't flinch, and felt quite proud of herself for that. She would wait
to piss herself until she was actually being killed.
"Do you want me to?" Amanda asked seriously.
I get a choice? Sophie wondered. I'm a witness. I just saw her whack Armand and Eddie. And
the others...
"Never mind them," the Predator said as if she'd spoken. "I hardly think you're about to run
out and grass me up to the local Plod. By the time anyone finds them, if anyone cares, I'll be
long gone. Just us chickens in here."
Amanda was talking British again, Sophie guessed. Nonetheless, she got the gist of it. If she
understood correctly, it was still a bit....unsettling. "I thought..." she started to say. What?
What had she thought? That the huntress would say 'No, heavens to Betsy, of course not' or
'Yes, my little pretty, I'm going to butcher you,' accompanied by an evil laugh? Amanda's
slightly quirked eyebrows telegraphed 'You thought what?' And she realised that, just as
Amanda had offered to kill her pimp she would kill her too if she asked. Unless this was some
sort of trick...
"I didn't...."
"Expect a choice?" Amanda suggested helpfully. "Let's cut the comedy of errors. Just nod or
shake your head. You thought that because I'm a psycho killer lesbian cannibal - well,
bisexual...I'm Hannibal Lecter's evil sister? There are rules to the hunt, little grasshopper. I
play by the rules."
Not any rules Sophie recognised.
"Well, okay, my rules. The nutshell version. I play fair with honourable opponents.
Sometimes I eat them. Sometimes I kill people because they just piss me off. Are we getting
there yet?"
Sophie nodded. Amanda didn't hate her. She'd just assumed that she was fair game.
"You just assumed that you were fair game. Because you're a hooker and that's how it works
in Hollywood or New York? Because I saved your life and you're living on borrowed time?"
Or because my life is such a pile of shit I'm not sure if I care, Sophie thought.
"That too," Amanda said.
Sophie smiled. She was being psychoanalysed by a telepathic serial killer. She should be on
Oprah. Beat the crap out of being abducted by aliens or having your boyfriend fuck your
sister and molest her cat. She breathed in.
"To be or not to be," Amanda intoned. "I'm sure you've heard it before."
"No," Sophie said. "I mean, no, don't kill me. Please." As she said it, she wondered. How
easy would it have been to give up? It would have been quick and painless. She knew
somehow that Amanda wouldn't have made it hard. She'd have been beyond all pain. The
huntress would eat her...
And thoroughly enjoy it. She heard that, but Amanda hadn't spoken.
She seemed to awake from a trance. The hands of the Huntress had moved away from her
shoulders.
"You may need this," Amanda said, pulling a roll of bills from a pocket in her leather jacket.
"Call it your native guide's fee. Or a tax rebate. Whatever works for you." She tossed the roll
on the bed.
Sophie saw a lot of money. Really a lot.
"Take a bus back to Cincinnati or Dead Squaw. Set up a delicatessen. Whatever. Oh, it was
Armand's. He won't be needing it any more. Call me Robin Hood. Call me Ishmael. Just don't
call me Shirley."
The huntress turned to leave and then turned again. She kissed the top of Sophie's head.
She left.