He glanced again at the open file on his desk and sighed, realizing that just wasn’t an option. Myra had been causing trouble in lots of little ways almost from the day she’d arrived on campus at the beginning of the year. Her attendance had been spotty from the start, but today was the first time she’d deigned to show up in nearly a full week. Even so, her poor attendance alone would not have been sufficient to bring him to the brink of the decision he was about to make-to recommend her expulsion from Rockville High to the school board.

He shook his head and sighed. “I hate to have to do this, but I have no choice. I could overlook everything else. This close to graduation, nobody cares about attendance if your grades have held up, as yours have. But you crossed a point of no return when you punched Cindy Wells in the face.”

Myra laughed.

Slater’s expression sharpened. “It’s not funny, Ms. Lewis.”

Reverting to a student’s surname after conversing with them more familiarly was a patented Slaterism, his way of signaling a serious shift in temper. Most students heeded the warning, recognizing at last the serious trouble they were in.

Myra just laughed some more. “I thought it was hilarious. Cheerleader fall down, go boom.”

And now she giggled.

Slater gaped. His iron glare had never failed to instill fear in the hearts of students. “You broke her nose. You disfigured one of Rockville High’s most popular students. She lost teeth, for Christ’s sake! You knocked her unconscious!”

Myra shrugged.

She seemed uninterested, almost disinterested, as if the matter under discussion was of no concern to her at all and could have no impact on her life. “You may not graduate, Ms. Lewis! Don’t you care about that? Why did you do it?”

There was something disturbing in Myra’s oddly knowing smile. “There are times when I want to hurt people for no particular reason. This time there was a little bit of a reason. Cindy’s life was a little too perfect, you have to admit. Perfect body, perfect football-player boyfriend, scholarships spilling out of her tight little ass. I thought I should introduce her to some possibilities she may not have previously considered.”

Slater’s brow furrowed, a topography of valleys and canyons forming across his forehead. “What!?” It was like the girl was speaking in a foreign language. “Are you insane? What the hell do you mean?”

A detached part of himself was appalled. He never lost his cool with students. Never. Oh, they knew when he was pissed, you bet your ass, but he never flew off the handle. He was always calm, cool, and when necessary, menacing. But now this infuriating girl, this strange, exotic creature so unlike any other girl at Rockville High, had him on the verge of a meltdown. She made him furious. Christ, she made him so horny! And the hell of it was there were dozens of female students more classically beautiful. Tall, busty, blonde girls with tawny skin and sleek bodies. Myra was small, barely taller than five feet, and she was so pale, her flesh just a few subtle shades removed from albino white.

Her smile broadened. “I decided I wanted Cindy to know bad things can happen to her, too. That being loved and adored won’t protect her. That there’s ugliness in the world and she’s just as vulnerable as anybody.”

Slater shuddered. “My God. You’re absolutely psychotic.”

Myra laughed again.

Slater shook his head. “Why was this important to you? Did her friends pick on you? Did she slight you in some way? Please help me to understand this.”

“Cindy treated me as well as anyone else in this school, maybe even a little better.”

“And this is how you repay her kindness?”

“Oh, I’ll make it up to her.”

Slater frowned. “How do you mean?”

“I’m going to visit her soon.” Myra unfolded her legs and leaned forward in the chair. “We’ll kiss and make up. Then I’ll make her boyfriend watch while she eats my pussy.”

Slater could not conceal his shock. “Wh-wh-wha…”

Temporarily unable to utter complete words-much less coherent sentences-he gave up.

Myra leered at him. “Her missing teeth should make things interesting.”

Slater’s next words emerged in a strangled squeak: “Get out of my office…you…you…”

Myra stood up and circled the desk. She was straddling Slater’s lap before he could even think to fend her off.

Myra’s eyes widened in mock shock. “Why, Principal Slater, what’s this creature in your pants?”

Slater gulped and managed to recover a mea sure of dignity. He imagined someone bursting into the office unannounced and felt horror. He seized Myra about the shoulders and tried to push her away, but she clamped a surprisingly strong hand around his throat.

She leaned closer and whispered in his ear. “You’ll do whatever I want you to do from now on, little man. You won’t suspend me. You’ll trump up a reason to suspend Cindy instead. Just because. Oh, I know it seems mean, but that’s the fun of it. Being mean is a good time.”

Her warm breath felt good on his ear. He had to force himself to concentrate. “But-”

Her hand closed tighter around his throat. “And the reason you’ll do this, other than my ability to make you do whatever I want anyway, is your reputation. I can destroy you, Raymond Slater.”

Slater blinked. Swallowed. “What…do you mean?”

Myra drew his earlobe into her mouth, bit down.

Slater shuddered-with both pleasure and fear.

Then she told him all about what the crow had seen through his window one night.

Slater’s heart paused a moment.

Myra clamped a hand over his mouth to stifle his scream.

And she laughed. “Don’t be too afraid, Raymond, baby. I have such wonderful plans for you and your wench. Your future is glorious.”

Then she revealed her true self to him.

This time Slater was too terrified to muster a scream.

After her son left, Jolene McAllister swept the remains of the broken pickle jar into a dustpan, dropped the glass fragments into a garbage can that was already stuffed to capacity, and went to her room. She shed her clothes and went into the bathroom to take a shower. Steam filled the room and she began to feel very mellow, some of the nervous tension generated by her oldest boy’s return dissipating as she closed her eyes and leaned her forehead against the tile-covered wall. She fell asleep standing up, waking up when her knees began to buckle.

She squelched the flow of water, stepped out of the tub, and toweled off. Then she dressed herself, went back to the kitchen, and yanked open the sliding glass door that overlooked a backyard overgrown and strewn with debris. One day soon she’d have to break down and blow one or more of the Crawford boys down the street, get them to come out here with their riding mower and weed trimmer. The Crawford boys liked to talk about her behind her back, run her down like all the other Zone assholes, but they sure didn’t talk shit when the prospect of putting their rock-hard dicks in her oh-so-experienced mouth was raised.

Jolene slipped on sandals and ventured into the backyard. The yard was bordered by rust-encrusted chain-link fencing, which was so old it sagged in places. A stand of trees loomed beyond the far end of the yard, the edge of a stretch of forest that extended to the man-made lake a mile north. Trey was always disappearing out there for hours at a time, and it bothered her, but she had other concerns at the moment.

She crossed the yard, the sandals protecting her against an array of sharp objects obscured by the tall grass as she made her way to the dilapidated old shed in a corner of the yard. She fished a key from a pocket of her denim shorts, opened the new lock she’d purchased last week, and stepped inside. A powerful lantern sat on a dusty worktable. She turned it on and studied the sleeping figure in a rear corner of the room.