The Killing Spring, Part 2

The Killing Spring, Part 2

“Come on, Gene,” Dad bellowed impatiently. “Plane leaves in three hours and if traffic’s bad, it could take at least an hour to get to the airport.”

“Comin’,” Gene chuckled while he stepped into his favorite pair of Nikes. Dad was probably checking his watch every thirty seconds, agonizing over each tick of the second hand. Even on vacation, the man just couldn’t relax.

Don’t worry, Dad, I’ll get you guys there. I want you out of the house as much as you do. I’ve got plans of my own.

Still, Gene decided to take a few precious seconds to make his bed. Even though Dad was in a hurry, there was nothing worse than an unmade bed, nothing worse than wadded sheets and...

He frowned, fists gripping his comforter as he stared at the yellow patch on his mattress cover.

Not again!

Throwing the comforter to the floor, he gritted his teeth, silently cursing his bladder while he yanked the stained cover off the mattress corners.

“Gene,” Dad yelled. “Let’s go!”

“In a second, Dad!” He tried his best not to sound impatient, which was difficult considering the crisis at-hand. A wet mattress cover would not do. It was a sign of weakness, that he wasn’t in control.

A true killer is always in control, no matter what.

Fighting the panic welling in his gut, Gene rolled up the soiled sheet and stuffed it underneath the bed, promising himself to throw it in the wash - with extra bleach - once he got back. Then he grabbed his school letterman’s jacket, clicked off the bedroom light and bolted downstairs, where Mom and Dad stood by the door next to their luggage.

Dad checked his watch and scowled before handing Gene the car keys.