“Okay, once more?” Dawson sighed heavily. “And could you put a little more emotion into it, Pacey?”

“Emotion?” His best friend pulled off the rubber mask he was wearing and wiped the copious sweat from his forehead. “How am I supposed to portray gut wrenching emotion while I’m wearing this and sweating like a pig? Have you ever lugged a lawnmower around, Dawson? Have you ever sent it spinning through the air like some kind of Frisbee? No. You’re just standing there behind the camera, and I’m doing all the work.”

“You don’t think this is work, Pacey?” Dawson smirked humorously. “Have you ever tried directing a bunch of no-talent hacks?”

“You know,” Joey picked up the pieces of her foam body double and gave Dawson a scathing look. “For a man who isn’t paying us anything for this torture, you’ve actually got very little room to insult us.”

“You do this because you love it.”

“No, Dawson, we do it because we get sick of you whining.” Jack pushed the small rowboat off of him and got off the ground. He looked around until he found his leg and arm and gathered them up, stowing them in the rowboat for safe keeping. “And I’m going to have to lend my voice to Pacey’s and ask that we call it a night.”

“But we’ve still got the light!”

“And the heat.” Pacey plopped the mask down next to Dawson. “And if I’m going to invest any kind of emotion into this picture, other than outright disgust at the working conditions, you’re going to have to give me a night off to replenish my body fluids. Otherwise, I’m going to be the size of a toothpick before filming is done.”

“Well, at least the film is good for your physique.” Andie handed Dawson his lens cap. “And after the huge portion of Grams’ picnic lunch you put away, you can use it.”

“Great. First, she cheats on me, then she insults me.” Pacey smiled to take the sting from his words, throwing his arm over her shoulder. “You’re great for a man’s ego, McPhee.”

“Well, let me continue to stroke it,” she shoved him away and wrinkled her nose. “You’re not just sweating like a pig. You’re starting to smell like one.”

“And once again, ladies and gentlemen, the ever-flattering Miss Andrea McPhee.” He bowed in her direction and gladly accepted the towel Jen handed him. “Thank you.” Looking back over his shoulder at Andie, he nodded toward Jen. “You see? That’s how the star should be treated.” Turning back, he gasped as he was hit in the chest with a blast of water from the hose.

Jen laughed as he sputtered. “Trust me, Pacey. That’s how you should be treated. Andie wasn’t lying.”

“Thanks.” He glared at her, tempted to wrestle the hose away from her and give her a dose of her own medicine. Only Dawson’s worried look toward the videotapes on the porch kept him from doing it. “You couldn’t have done that before you offered me the towel?”

“What can I say? I like you all wet.” She turned off the hose and looped it back over the hooks on the side of the house. “So, we’re done for the day?”

“Apparently,” Dawson grumbled. “Although there are still two hours of perfectly good daylight left.”

“Drop it, Dawson.” Joey walked up beside him and linked her arm through his. “Since I prefer to see it not as losing daylight, so much as gaining time together without these other hooligans hanging around.”

“Dropped.” He leaned in and kissed her on the nose. “Let me pack up my stuff and we’ll be off.”

Joey released him and dropped her random body parts in the rowboat. “Does anyone have the eyeballs?”

“Right here.” Andie dropped them into a box at the front of the boat. “And the fingers, toes and other scattered little bits.”

“What a job, huh? How do you think that will go over on your Harvard resume?” Joey gave Andie a grin. “Summer job: keeper of assorted body parts. Now, I could understand if you were thinking of attending medical school…”

“No.” Andie’s look was serious. “It’s actually a lawyer’s job to know where all the bodies are buried. I’m right on schedule.”

Both girls started laughing as Jack settled the tarp over the boat. “Enough of this. You comin’, Andie? Dad’s expecting us for dinner. If we get home early, we can make it and save ourselves from another night of the Salisbury steak with congealed gravy that he picked up at the TV dinner sale.”

“Good point.” She nodded and took his hand, heading for the car. “Night everyone!”

“Tomorrow morning,” Dawson called after them. “Eight sharp!”

“Yes, Herr Director!”

Dawson ran a hand through his hair as he set the camera in its case. “How can I be a dictator when everyone just defected?”

“Poor Dawson.” Joey shook her head and caressed his back soothingly. “Come on. Leave that stuff. Pacey and Jen’ll get it.”

“But…”

“Dawson,” Joey gave him a sly smile. “Trust me, you want to let Jen and Pacey do the clean-up.”

He smiled lecherously at her and shouldered the half-zipped camera bag. “Night you guys.”

“Night!” Jen waved at them from the porch as they headed toward Dawson’s ladder. “Hmm. You’d think his parents would realize what they’re doing right under their noses.”

Pacey’s voice was a little strained. “Mitch and Gale are so wrapped up in each other still, Joey and Dawson could be having sex right in front of them and they wouldn’t even notice.”

Watching him with sad eyes, Jen climbed down the few steps. “I’m sorry. I know it’s still hard on you.”

“Why would it be hard on me?” Pacey started picking up various props, noting that, once again, he was left cleaning up the Ryan front lawn. “I mean, just because Joey threw me over and went straight back to Dawson…doesn’t mean it was difficult.”

“Right. How long ago was it, Pacey?”

“Two months, one week, four days and,” he looked down at his watch. “Fifteen hours.”

“No minutes?”

“That included the minutes. It was this time of night.” He stacked the bags of grass and weeds beside the house then wheeled over the real lawnmower that they were using for the close-ups. Pacey looked at Jen out of the corner of his eye. “You’re dressed up.”

“I am.”

“Date?”

“Yeah.”

“Young Henry?”

“He just goes by Henry now.”

“Right.” A car horn beeped and Pacey sighed as Jen gave him a questioning look. He shook his head. “Go on. I’m fine.”

“I could cancel…”

“No. Go. Have fun. That way you can remind me what it is.”

“Night, Pacey.”

“Night.” He watched her go, a little sadly. Yet another night of cleaning up the daily filming mess and getting everything ready for the early morning call. It wasn’t so much the work he minded, as the bitter reminder it was that he didn’t have anything else to do, anywhere else to be. The sultry sound of Joey’s giggle echoed back to him on the wind, followed by the sound of Dawson’s name.

Anyone else who wanted him.

“Laaawwwnnnnnmmmmoooowwweeeerrrr.”

The soft whisper came from nowhere and Pacey whirled around. “What?” When there was no answer, he shook his head and headed toward the creek, searching out the last prop he had to put away. The plastic lawnmower was still heavy, but not so much that he couldn’t lift it and wield it as the primary killing machine in Dawson’s new film. “So, Pacey,” he asked himself. “You’ve cleaned up the front lawn, you’ve heard your ex-girlfriend moan her new boyfriend’s name. What are you going to do now?”

“Llllllllaaaaaaaaawwwwwwwnnnnnnmmmmmmoooooooowwwwwweeeeeerrrrrrrrrrr.”

“All right, that’s enough.” He slammed the plastic prop down and glared into the rapidly fading light. “Joey? Dawson?” Only the quiet calls of insects answered him and he cursed under his breath. “Great. I’m hearing things. Not only that, I’m talking to myself. And yet does this worry me? No. Because I’ve got bigger problems.” He picked up the shattered pieces of the lawnmower. “Dawson’s going to kill me.”

He walked over to the house and dumped the clumps of plastic into a heap beside the real mower. He’d conceivably set filming back at least one day and he couldn’t wait until the next morning to hear his best friend’s reaction. The smart thing to do was just be a man, go over there, knock on the door and tell Dawson what he’d done.

Of course, the smart thing was liable to get him treated to the sight of Joey and Dawson in various stages of undress, and he was pretty sure that would be worse torture than anything Dawson’s creative mind could devise. Still, he’d sworn to himself that he wouldn’t let Joey’s return to Dawson change their hard won friendship, so he needed to go.

“Dawson, stop!” Joey’s laughter, gasped and breathless, reached the bottom of the ladder and Pacey froze.

Then again, throwing Dawson out of his own bedroom window would probably change things much more drastically. He’d tell him in the morning.

As he headed off toward his car, the wind behind him snickered and laughed, dancing through the foam body parts and shattered pieces of plastic.

His chest was bare, save for the layer of sweat that clung to his golden skin. His hand ran through his damp hair, mussing it, then down his face. Fingers like ice swiped across his brow and down his cheeks, offering cold relief through his fever.

The sheet was twisted with his legs, entwined in some erotic pattern that he couldn’t have deciphered had he been awake. He was tangled in the cotton fabric, unable to move as behind his eyes, visions taunted him.

Dawson and Joey, joined together, entangled as he was with the sheet. Touching in ways only he should be allowed to touch her, loving in ways he’d only dreamed of. “You can never come between us, Pacey. You were so stupid to even try.”

“I did. I love you, Joey. You loved me.”

Andie smiling at him as she draped her naked body over some other man, loving him with a passion she’d always held back with him. Her eyes trained on Pacey as she whispered words of love and loyalty to anyone who wasn’t him, offering her body up as a prize to whomever wished for it “Whatever made you think you could be the man I would want, Pacey? You were nothing when I found you, and nothing when I left you.”

“I loved you, Andie. You were everything to me for so long.”

Jen standing over him, taunting him for his inability to excite her, for their complete lack of chemistry. Abusing and berating him as she undressed slowly, showing off her body and laughing as he failed to be aroused. “Can’t even turn a girl on, can you Pacey? Do they have to be old or crazy for you to screw them?”

“We wanted companionship…friendship with something more. You wanted it as badly as I did, you couldn’t do it either…”

Jack, hanging from a cross, glaring down at him. A crowd gathered at his feet, taunting him with sexual epithets, slicing his skin with paper, the cuts running deeper as if made by some sort of scythe. “This is your fault, Pacey. If you hadn’t forced my hand, I would be safe…I wouldn’t be suffering through everything. You did this to me.”

“No. No, Jack. I apologized. I tried to make it right. I did. I…”

“Pacey!”

Pacey snapped awake, his eyes wild. His body was covered with a sheen of sweat and his heart pounded in his chest. “Where…where am I?”

“My house,” Doug informed him. “For reasons I don’t even want to begin to contemplate. You do realize that you have a home to go to, correct?”

“It was late. And Mom and Dad were hosting some sort of party for someone’s retirement. I couldn’t…sleep.” He fought with the sheet, finally untangling it. “I had the weirdest dream. You didn’t play any Celine Dion while I was asleep, did you?”

“Even I don’t own Celine Dion, Pacey.” Doug surveyed his little brother. “You look awful.”

“I feel worse. I think I might have swallowed one of your doilies or something. My mouth feels like it’s full of cotton.”

“They’re made of fine Chinese lace. Not cotton.”

“Whatever.” Pacey stood and headed for the bathroom. “What time is it?”

“Eight.”

“Shit!” Pacey stopped in his tracks and turned quickly, grabbing his clothes. “Dawson is going to kill me. More than once if he can figure out a way. I’m a dead man.”

“Actually, Mom called with a message from Dawson. That’s why I woke you. It’s raining this morning, so filming has been postponed until whenever the storm lets up. You’re in luck.”

“Thank God.”

“Which gives you plenty of time to take a shower.” Doug handed Pacey a bottle of fabric cleaner. “And clean my sofa so that I don’t have to smell you for the rest of the month.”

“It might impress some of your boyfriends to have a masculine smell around here.”

Doug’s eyes narrowed. “You’re about to get that fabric cleaner inserted to an orifice you’re liable to find unpleasant, Pacey.”

“Wouldn’t that sort of prove my argument?” Pacey started to laugh until an image of Jack dangling from a cross slipped through his mind, floating like gossamer. He swallowed hard and took a step away from his brother. “Right. No more gay jokes. Shower.”

Doug watched Pacey walk from the room, confusion plainly written across his face.

Pacey sat huddled on the Ryan porch, staring out at the falling rain. Jen was sitting next to him, her feet tucked under a light blanket. “Well, another day of torture…er, filming,” she gave Dawson a grin. “Called to a halt.”

“The sky cleared up,” Dawson insisted.

“Just long enough for all of us to get here and spend the afternoon waiting.” Jack leaned back against the wall of the house. “What does it say about us that we have nothing better to do with our free time?”

“We do,” Joey insisted, leaning a little closer to Dawson as a cold wind whipped through the air. “We just don’t want to have to put up with the consequences, should we decide to do it.” She kissed Dawson’s shoulder and smiled up at him.

He grinned down at her, the slightest promise of repercussion on his lips. “Well, we can work out the rest of the script at least.”

“Why are we sitting outside?” Andie shivered and pulled her sweater tighter around her. “When there’s a perfectly good house behind us.”

“Two reasons,” Jen informed her. “Grams is having a serious, down and dirty, Bible-thumping meeting of her Ladies Auxiliary. Which is a site you so do not want to behold.”

“What’s the second reason?”

“Well…after Grams caught me and Henry…” Jen blushed and shook her head. “I’m not allowed to have anyone in the house.”

“She does know that inventive little girls don’t have to have a bed and a comfy house all around them. Right?” Pacey grabbed the blanket at Jen’s feet and pulled it up over their heads, grabbing her and pulling her back on top of them, making over the top kissing noises all the while. Jen pushed him away, giggling the whole time.

“Yeah, Grams is perfectly aware that there’s whole wide world out there, but she’s also aware that Henry’s kind of an old fashioned kind of guy. Which means bed. And since Henry’s mom works from her house, we don’t have a lot of options.”

“Woe is Jen,” Pacey released her and stood up, walking toward the screen. He didn’t look back at the gathered crowd, somehow knowing he couldn’t face whatever look Joey was giving him. “So, we know why we’re shivering on the Ryan front porch. What I want to know is why we don’t just brave the rain and head over to the Leery abode where it’s nice and warm.” He winced as the wind whipped the rain toward him. “And dry.”

“Great idea.” Jen got up and tossed the blanket to Andie. “I’ll get some clothes for me, Andie and Joey. Dawson probably has something that can fit you and Jack. We’ll be warm and dry.”

“I don’t need anything,” Joey said softly.

“Hmm?” Jen stopped and turned back.

“I don’t need any clothes,” Joey cast a furtive glance at Pacey, wincing slightly as she noticed the stiff line of his back. “I have some at Dawson’s.”

“Oh. Right.” Jen nodded and disappeared into the house, mentally kicking herself for rubbing salt into Pacey’s wounds, however inadvertently.

The remaining five sat in silence, no one willing to break the uneasy quiet between them. Finally, Andie spoke up. “So, Jack. Did you tell them?”

“Tell us what?” Joey looked around Dawson to where Jack was sitting. “You’ve got a secret?”

He shrugged, embarrassed. “I…I have a date.”

“Who?” Joey’s eyes lit up with happiness. “Who? Anyone we know? Anyone who’s ass we should kick for the way he treated you last year?”

“No, it’s not Ethan.” Jack smiled. “Which isn’t to say you shouldn’t kick his ass if you do see him. His name is Joseph and he works for the shop Dad and I have been going to for the car parts.” Shrugging, he glared at Andie for a short moment. “And he asked me out last night.”

“And?” Andie prodded.

“And we’re going out this weekend.”

Joey moved over and gave Jack a huge hug. “That’s so cool.”

“Well, if by cool you mean nerve-wracking and gut-wrenching, then yeah. Very cool.” Jack hugged her back then released her. “So, on Friday I’m going to need a little time off, Dawson. If that’s okay?”

Dawson shrugged; knowing it would be a losing battle. “Not a problem. Especially if this rain doesn’t stop soon.” As Jen walked out of the house, Dawson stood. “Okay. Let’s go over to my place and iron out these last few pages of script.” He gave Pacey a speaking glance. “And I can put in an order for the new lawnmower.”

They filed off of Jen’s porch, Pacey following them at a distance. Jen and Andie were walking with Jack, their arms looped through his and Joey was huddled against Dawson as they all hurried through the rain. Joey had clothes at Dawson’s house. Jack finally found himself a nice guy. Jen was getting busy with young Henry.

Everyone was happy, save him and Andie. Maybe that was how it was meant to be. She fucked up his life; he fucked up everyone else’s. “You coming, Pacey?” She stood in the doorway of Dawson’s house, holding the screen door open for him. He jogged toward her, slipping onto the porch, wiping the rainwater from his face.

“Thanks, McPhee.”

“I was…can I talk to you for a minute?”

Something strangely unsettled danced through his stomach as he nodded, moving over toward the small wicker couch. He sank down on it and looked up at her, trying to read her eyes. “What’s up?”

“I…” She sighed and sat down next to him. “I wanted to run something by you. Kind of get your reaction.”

“Sure.”

“I…this guy…you…you remember Marc?”

A cold fist closed over Pacey’s heart as he nodded. Right. Marc. “Yeah. The name rings a bell.”

“He’s moving here. Not to Capeside, but nearby. And…well, I just wanted to let you know that he and I have been keeping in touch with one another and we’ve…well, we’re…”

“You intend to pick up the relationship where it left off when I so rudely came and swept you away from your idyllic hideaway in the cuckoo’s nest?” Pacey stood and nodded abruptly. “Gotcha. Thanks for that.”

“Pacey, I…”

“It’s fine, Andie. You and I have been finished for a long time. Obviously this guy helped you heal while you were at Mayfield, and if that’s what you need in your life, I’m happy that you have it. But Dawson’s already pissed off that I shattered his prop and I’d rather not have to listen to a bombastic diatribe on being late to the casting meetings as well.” He shook off the hand she’d rested on his arm and stood up. “Excuse me.”

Andie nodded, standing up as well. “I’m sorry, Pacey.” She walked into the house, leaving him alone with his thoughts and emotions, all swirling around him like the wind beating against the house.

“Me too, Andie.” He ran a hand through his hair and followed her inside, ignoring the wind as it gathered in his wake, whispering so softly that only he could hear.

Pacey awoke again, the sweat that bathed him every night clinging to his skin. His head pounded, the blood pulsing through him until he thought he might scream. His friends taunted him in his sleep, their new lives and loves hanging over him, reminding him of everything he’d never have.

Everything he thought he’d had once upon a time.

Slipping off the bed, he made his way down the hall to the bathroom, turning the shower on. He slipped into the cool water, enjoying the feel of the spray as it cascaded over his body, cleansing the sticky perspiration away.

“Lllllaaaaaaaaaaaaawwwwwwwwwwwnnnnnnnnnnmmmmmmmmmmoooooooooowwwwwwwweeeeeeeerrrrrrrrr.”

He was getting used to the word, having heard it incessantly for the past week. It was like a haze in the back of his mind, the word hovering in his subconscious, spurring him to action. He wanted to start filming again, but everything had been put on hold during the week. Dawson was irritated by the delay, but no more so than Pacey, aching to take the newly acquired plastic prop into his hands.

“Llllllllaaaaaaawwwwwwwnnnnnnnmmmmmmmoooooowwwwwweeeeeeerrrrrrr.”

He nodded, repeating the word in a whisper under his breath. Turning off the faucet, Pacey stepped out of the shower and stared at himself in the mirror. Water ran in rivulets down his bare skin, shimmering in the pale light. He tilted his head as he watched his reflection, mesmerized by the shifting shadows that seemed to dance behind his eyes.

Grabbing a towel off the rack, he wrapped it around his waist and walked back to his room, ignoring the soft sounds that followed. He’d made sure, before he’d gone to bed that night, that the house was locked tight, the windows closed against any breeze, and yet a faint wind trailed behind him, its seductive call taunting his ears.

He closed the door to his bedroom and looked over at his bed. The sheet was tangled and twisted, as it seemed to be every night now. In a pile beside his bed was a note from Dawson, informing everyone that, since they had a free day off of school the next day, filming would resume at eight sharp. It sat precariously atop the mask he was to wear the next morning.

They were filming the big scene tomorrow and he needed his sleep. Tomorrow, he’d heft that piece of plastic and chase his friends around the Ryan lawn, sending foam pieces of flesh scattering on the breeze, getting covered in the sticky syrup that Dawson had concocted to use as blood.

Tomorrow, he’d kill all his friends in the name of art.

Pacey lay down on the bed, sliding his feet under the sheet to keep them warm. The towel hung loosely around his waist, providing him enough cover in the sweltering heat of his room as he drifted off to sleep.

Tomorrow, he’d kill all his friends.

With the lawnmower.

“Jesus, Pacey.” Jack pushed the small rowboat off his legs and glared at his friend. “It’s a movie, remember? You don’t actually have to try and dismember me.”

“Sorry,” Pacey mumbled from beneath his mask. He was sweating again; he could feel it running down his bare chest and back like little fingers as he backed away from the boat. “It’s kind of hard to judge in…here.” The heat was getting to him, overwhelming him. “I…”

Moving back toward the house, Pacey stumbled slightly as the rest of his friends listened to Dawson bark out direction. They headed back to their places, ready to run the scene again, for real this time.

“Okay, Pace. Go ahead and turn on the lawnmower. We’ll loop the screams in later.”

Pacey nodded and revved the engine of the real lawnmower before picking up the plastic one. He hefted its considerable weight and waited for Dawson’s cue, his heart pounding as his blood pulsed through his body like wildfire. His mind was spinning, his vision blurred, his ears ringing. He could hear the voices singing to him, fueling the anger and hate and jealousy that was building in him, stoking the fires until they raged just beneath his skin.

“And…ACTION!”

Dawson’s voice rang out and Pacey charged forward through the small stand of lawn and leaf bags that had hidden him. Joey and Jen’s characters screamed, barely heard over the noise of the mower, as he ran at them. From her hiding spot, Andie tossed small body parts into the air, sending up a shower of blood at the same time.

Dropping the squirt bottle at Dawson’s cue, she jogged down to the edge of the creek to help Jack with the rowboat. Pacey stood still as Joey and Jen arranged their mangled corpses at his feet before sneaking out under the frame just in time for Dawson’s long shot.

Slowly, the camera angled upwards as Andie and Jack came into view, carrying the rowboat over their heads. Henry wheeled the real mower further away from the camera, dropping the sound level down so that the dialogue could be heard.

“That was great, sis!” Jack smiled back over his shoulder at Andie. “It was great of Mrs. Harrington to let us use her boat for our science project.”

“It sure was.” Andie nodded emphatically before a puzzled look crossed her face. “But didn’t you promise her you’d mow her lawn as payment?”

“I sure did.”

“Then who’s that?” Andie tried to see around Jack but couldn’t as Pacey rushed forward, swiping the lawnmower against the front of the boat and knocking it and them to the ground. Andie screamed as the instrument of death angled down, headed straight for her face.

“And…CUT!”

Henry killed the lawnmower and Pacey set the plastic one down on the ground. He held out a hand to Andie, who took it. He pulled her up then walked away, pulling the fake mower behind him. Dawson was talking to everyone over by the camera as they huddled around for the playback.

Pacey barely listened to the critique, sure that Dawson would be more than happy to go over his shortcomings with him in minute detail.

“Lllllllllllllaaaaaaaaawwwwwwwwnnnnnnnmmmmmoooooooooowwwwwwwweeeeeeeeerrrrrrr!”

Pacey nodded as the whispering grew louder, seething in his skull, screaming wildly, calling out for blood.

Blood.

His vision darkened, glowing crimson as he ripped off the mask and tossed it aside, grabbing the lawnmower from where Henry had left it. He whirled around to face his friends, barely able to see them through the haze of fury. Pulling the cord, he revved the engine to life and wheeled around, slowly advancing toward his unsuspecting victims.

Andie turned at the noise, wondering where Pacey was. She didn’t have time to scream before the sharp blades of the mower connected with her warm flesh, mangling her face in an instant. Her blonde hair was streaked with red as it flew toward the others, smacking noisily on the ground at their feet.

“Andie?” Jen turned, thinking Andie was tapping her on her shoulder. She reached up and brushed her away, screaming when her hand came away red. Turning, she screamed again, seeing Andie’s body falling to pieces beneath the lawnmower Pacey was wielding. There were pieces of Andie scattered over the ground, littering the green lawn, mixing in with the foam pieces they’d been using.

Everyone turned as Jen screamed, their eyes wide as they watched Pacey drop what remained of Andie’s body to the ground, hooking the mower over his shoulder as if it weighed nothing. His smile was maniacal, verging on the edge of insanity, as he stalked toward them. His grin widened as they stood frozen in fear.

“Who’s next?”

The voice was unrecognizable as he grabbed the mower with both hands and swung it in a wide arch in front of him. He grazed Henry’s arm, sending blood spattering over Jen and Joey. They both shrieked and broke through their shock, willing to run, but unsure of where to go.

“Henry it is,” Pacey drawled, advancing on the petrified boy. “You know what’s always bothered me about you, young Henry?”

He shook his head, eyes bulging with fear.

“Your lips.” Pacey sliced at Henry’s face with the lawnmower, destroying his youthful looks with on simple swipe. Swinging the mower around, he cut across his chest, the silvery blades flashing in the light. Blood and flesh flew everywhere, bathing the others as they huddled together. “Your voice.” This time the mower imbedded itself against Henry’s groin and Pacey grinned madly. “Your complete lack of balls.”

As Henry gurgled his death knell, Pacey started toward his remaining friends.

“Speaking of a lack of balls, you hiding behind the girls, Dawson?”

Jack tugged at Jen and Joey’s arms, pulling them toward the driveway. “Come on, you guys. We have to…”

“That’s just typical, isn’t it?” He advanced, his eyes burning feverishly bright. “But soon, they won’t be around for you to hide behind.” He reached out and grabbed Jen’s hand, easily pulling her from Jack’s grasp. “Hey. Jen.”

“P…Pacey.”

She was shaking in his grip, her eyes full of shock and fear. “You’re lookin’ a little scared.”

“I…I am a little scared, Pacey.”

He grinned and leaned in, his lips almost brushing hers. His body was slick with blood and sweat as he pressed her to him, smearing her with the product of his labors. “Good.” He released her, almost laughing when she didn’t move, simply stared down at her body, covered in the blood of her friend and her lover, covered in the sweat of their murderer. “You promised me sex once, no strings attached.”

“Yea…yes.”

“Like a puppet,” He nodded. “Without strings, you probably need,” he shoved her further away and swung the mower around, slicing through her kneecaps. “Legs to stand on.”

Jen crumpled to the ground, her frightened gaze locked on Pacey.

“And arms.” He cut through one like butter, grabbing the dismembered piece and throwing it at Jack who was still trying to pull Joey away. “Hey Jack! Need a hand with that?”

Out of instinct born of the gridiron, Jack caught the hand, dropping it as soon as he realized what it was. “Oh God!” He released Joey finally and backed away from the horror that Pacey was perpetrating, running before he even reached the edge of the driveway.

Pacey laughed and turned his attention back to Jen who was using his distraction with Jack to try and move away, dragging her injured body with her good arm. Taking a few steps to close the distance between them, he stood over her. “Running away?”

“No…no.”

“Now you’re lying to me, Jen.” He brought the blades down to her other arm, debating where to make the cut. Suddenly, he stopped, pulling back.

“Pacey? Pacey are you okay?” Relief flooded through Jen’s voice as she stared up at him.

“You know what it was that Dawson first noticed about you, Jen?” When she didn’t answer, his wild eyes focused on her and he brought the mower down flat on her impressive chest. “Let me give you a hint.”

Material, blood, flesh and bone ground together between the blades. The noise grew deafening as they cut their way through her, finally splitting her in two. Tears of fright and pain leaked down Jen’s face as he severed her. The mower pulled free with a sucking sound and Pacey held it above her face.

“Should I put you out of your misery?” When she didn’t answer, he tilted his head, obviously concerned. “No? No more secrets of mine you’d like to pass along to Dawson before you die?”

“I didn’t…”

The blades slammed down onto her face, destroying the pale beauty in seconds. “Oops! Too late.”

He turned slowly now, not wanting to frighten his last victims unnecessarily. Joey stood in front of Dawson, shivering in fear. Her eyes were concerned and he wanted to laugh. Concern was never an emotion he wanted from her, never anything he desired of her.

“Aren’t you going to run, Joey?”

“No. Because you’re not going to hurt me, Pacey.”

He laughed at her surety. “I’m not. I’m willing to kill Andie, Henry and Jen without blinking an eye, but I’m going to spare the woman that caused me more pain than any other person in my life? Anyone other than the poor excuse for a man lurking behind her.”

“You love me, Pacey.”

His laugh was rich and full, almost human. “That’s more than enough reason to want to see your body in pieces, Potter. Trust me.” He swung the mower hard, catching her in the midsection. Blood began seeping through the tear in her T-shirt, darkening the white material immediately. “Still think I’m not going to hurt you?”

“You can’t…”

“Why not? You ripped my heart out through my balls, Potter.” He jabbed at her with the blades, smiling as he made contact again. He noticed the look of horror on Joey’s face as she looked down at her mangled breast. He made a show of glancing around. “You always liked it when I sucked your nipples, Jo. Should I find that one and do it for you again?”

She backed up into Dawson, which seemed to spur him into action. He pulled away from her as if she were poison, taking off at a run toward his house. Joey stared after him before turning back to Pacey. Her dark eyes were full of tears and she kept shaking her head. “No, Pacey. No.”

“Yeah, Jo.” He nodded, his smile plastered across his face. “Any last words?”

“I love you.”

“Yeah? Too bad about that.” He went for her neck, standing in the spray from her jugular as he severed it. The hot blood pumped out of her, bathing his skin in her heat. He could feel his erection growing as the red liquid soaked his shorts, running down his legs. He watched the life ebb out of her, looking down at her with a strange mixture of emotion.

Bending down, he stared into her lifeless eyes. Dead, she seemed so small and helpless, so incapable of crushing a man’s heart in her hand. As the thought crossed his mind, he grabbed her hand and lifted it, grabbing the mower he’d set aside as he bent to look at her. With a quick slice, he severed her arm at the elbow and hefted it in his hand.

Enough time for memories later. He had an old friend to catch up with.

Dawson was breathing hard as he ran, unsure of where to go. For the first time in his memory, his house was locked, the doors refusing to open at his touch. He scrambled around the building, rushing toward his room and the ladder that led up to it. He grasped the rungs and started up, turning back for just a moment to see if Pacey was behind him.

He froze as he saw his best friend, leaning against a nearby tree, the lawnmower at his feet. “Where ya going, Dawson?”

“Pace…”

“Shut up.” He snarled the words. “I’ve listened to your incessant whining for my whole life and I’m not going to do it anymore.” He started forward, grinning all the while. “I’m going to shut your mouth permanently.” He lifted his right hand and displayed the trophy he’d taken from Joey’s body. “Look familiar?”

“Joey…” Dawson breathed.

“Well, what’s left of her.” He ran the fingers over his chest, smearing the blood, using Joey’s hand to massage the thick liquid into his flesh. Dawson’s gaze was locked on its movements as Pacey lowered it so that it stilled over his raging hard-on. “Seems she likes me again.”

Dawson quivered with indignation. “You…”

Pacey dropped the hand and wielded the lawnmower like a sword, slicing Dawson’s legs in two. He ignored the tears that leaked from Dawson’s eyes as he fell to the ground, advancing on him with determination. “How does it feel to know you’re going to die, Dawson?”

Shock kept Dawson silent, as pain coursed through him, blood spilling from his legs at a rapid rate. Pacey advanced over him, the lawnmower silent at his side. Standing over Dawson’s prone form, Pacey straddled his legs and slowly unfastened the fly of his blood-soaked shorts. Easing the material away from his body, he reached in and freed his erection, pulling it clear of his boxers using Joey’s hand.

“You want to see what Joey used to do for me, Dawson?” He began stroking his cock with her dismembered hand, pumping his engorged flesh quickly as he felt his orgasm straining beneath his burning skin. He watched Dawson’s horrified eyes as he came, drenching his best friend with his come, letting it mix with the blood that poured from his wounds.

Easing Joey’s hand from around his cock, Pacey stepped forward, leaning down toward Dawson. “I’m going to shut you up for once and for all, Dawson. No one would ever believe it could happen, but I’m going to make it so.” He grabbed Dawson’s chin and yanked the slack skin down, opening his mouth.

Smiling evilly, Pacey shoved Joey’s come-covered hand into Dawson’s mouth, forcing it down his throat. Straightening, he grabbed the mower beside them and pulled the cord once again, bringing the machine to life. “Vaya con dios, Dawson.”

With one quick stroke, Pacey severed Dawson’s neck and spinal cord. Dropping the lawnmower, Pacey grabbed Dawson’s head and lifted it up to eye level. It was a grotesque mockery of his two best friends, joined together in death as they always swore they were in life.

He swung the head by its hair, slamming it into the metal rungs. The metal rang out on contact as Pacey dropped the shattered remains of his best friend at the base of the ladder. He fastened his shorts before grabbing the mower. Shouldering it, he carried it with an ease he’d never thought possible before today.

Giving Dawson’s body one last kick, he headed back toward the Ryan’s. He needed to find Jack.

But first, he thought, maybe he’d pay a visit to Grams.

07/02/00