Chapter 3

The sliding glass door was easy for Dana to shim open; the simple slide lock was a polite suggestion of “do not enter” rather than any kind of real security. The empty wine glass perched halfway off the edge of a side table took her by surprise, however. She was nervous and less graceful than she knew she could be, and it was the slightest bump against the table that left her frozen in terror as the glass smashed to bits on the apartment’s polished concrete floor. She held her breath, expecting to see the bedroom light flick on- to see her cue to turn and run.

–

Valerie awoke with a start at the sound of the breaking glass. She’d been deeply asleep, and she slowly swam up towards consciousness through layers of sleep, lingering dreams, and heavy emotions. She was annoyed, first- the damn cat had broken something again, and woken her up to add insult to injury. She could clean it up in the morning. Annoyance gave way to a kind of guilty gratification at how quiet it was in her room. Heather, her ex-girlfriend, had been a snorer. She missed her lover desperately, and the breakup had shaken her and left her wondering if she had any value to offer a partner.

Even then, she didn’t miss the poor sleep she got sharing a bed with Heather- or the way the woman took her bad moods out on Valerie through manipulation and belittling. When she was sober enough to carry on a conversation, anyway. Valerie figured she would have to work through these conflicting feelings, eventually, if she could ever able to afford therapy.

Thinking about her financial situation woke her up more fully, and a new thought filtered through her chaotic mind, on heavily weighted with guilt. Her cat, Sammy – Samus Aran – had been put to sleep barely a week ago. She hadn’t had the money to pay the vet to try and treat her, and her eyes pricked with tears that threatened to become outright sobs as she re-lived the sadness of that day.

Valerie’s muffled sob was audible across the small apartment. Dana knew from her surveillance that this was a regular occurrence, but hearing it in person for the first time pulled at her heart in a way she didn’t expect. But no footsteps were audible, no flicking on of light switches. She shook off her nerves and set aside whatever it was she was feeling, and moved quickly. This part of the plan could easily unravel, and she knew that speed meant safety and success.

–

Dana grabbed a throw pillow from the couch and then darted through the bedroom door, uncapping an auto-injector of tranquilizer. She knew the layout of the girl’s bedroom by heart, and was up and over the foot-board in a small bit of well practiced parkour.

–

Valerie half-awake mind was practically unable to regulate the feelings she spent much of her waking time trying to avoid; and it was a solid minute or two before she connected the fact of Sammy’s absence to the sound of the breaking glass. She wasn’t even sure if the sound had been real or part of some dream. By then, the shadowy figure was through the bedroom doorway and halfway to the bed, and then vaulting over the end cheap IKEA bed-frame.

She was shocked more than hurt by the throw pillow flying into her face- a dark form that threw her off guard, her reflexes primed to expect something more solid, more painful.

Valerie would wonder later why she didn’t have a more helpful response- why she didn’t fight, or scream, or try to run. Why her limbic system thought the best thing to do in that moment was to freeze. Her nervous system only languidly processed that the pillow was just a pillow; that it didn’t hurt. She was barely lifting her arm to brush it away, barely drawing breath to shout, when she felt the stab in her thigh.

The last thought that went through Valerie’s mind as unconsciousness overtook her was that the figure hadn’t wiped down the injection spot with alcohol first.

–

The girl’s feeble struggles faded and Dana climbed off the bed, her heart pounding. She willed her breathing to slow and the adrenaline to work it’s way out of her system. That would take time, but she had expected that; she had memorized and drilled the next stage of her plan. The next few hours would be easy, if anxiety-inducing.

She strapped a heart monitor to Valerie’s wrist, synced to Dana’s phone. Dosing for tranquilizers like this is a tricky thing, and she wasn’t here to kill anyone through overdose; she’d brought a vial of adrenaline, just in case. If Valerie’s heart rate dropped too low she could use the adrenaline, and if it rose too high she could inject a little more tranquilizer.

She’d drive the girl to the hospital, if she needed to- it’d be turning herself in, but she’d rather that than have blood on her hands.

Dana retraced her steps and cleaned any signs she’d been there- even the shards of broken wine glass carefully packed away into a pocket for later disposal.

Finally, she lifted the smaller woman carefully and made her way to the attached garage. Dana had spent days thinking about how to transport Valerie back to her home, running over the different options. In her own car, or the young engineer’s Subaru? In the front seat, arranged to look like she’s asleep? Or, in the trunk, out of sight.

Ultimately, she loads Valerie into the front passenger seat of her Subaru, leaning against the door, with a blanket thrown over her. Cozy, and nothing suspicious should someone notice them. The drive back to Dana’s home in the city would take an hour, and she wanted to be able to monitor Valerie’s vitals and respond to any changes.

While she didn’t regret for a moment the time spent planning, the drive was so uneventful that in retrospect it seemed an almost comical level of over-preparation. The only hiccup had been the flashing of police lights in her rear-view mirror along an otherwise deserted highway- the cop had sped straight past her after she nudged the Subaru toward the side of the road in a cold sweat.

She eased the car into the detached garage and cut the engine, then simply sat for a few moments to let her heart rate settle while she listened the the ticking of the cooling engine.