Chapter17

#Chapter17

Los Angeles, one year before the Chosen Killings

It had seemed like Piggy just wanted Kacey to see the tableau he had created; the bonfire and the painted boys on the walls, the heads on sharpened sticks. /"You don't understand,/" he had said. /"Not yet. But you will. It'll all make sense I promise./" And then he had left, turning off the light and leaving her once again in darkness.

Before he had flipped the switch Kacey had seen something else across from the scene; something tall draped in a black fabric. It had been square at the top, with a long piece that stuck out from the lower part, almost like a chair with a really high, thin back.