Alicia patted Chase on the back. “I'm sure she'll forget all about us once her party gets going,” she reasoned. “Now, let's focus on getting our own put together!”

They grabbed a few more things, then brought their basket up to the front to check out. As the cashier scanned their items, they noticed a news bulletin on the TV behind the counter. The screen was almost completely taken up with the mugshot of a redheaded young woman.

“...first woman to be executed in state history. Notoriously ruthless gangster Betty “Babyface” O'Connell has never shown any signs of remorse for the murders linked to her, an exact tally of which has never been verified.”

“Hey, Alicia. She looks kind of like you,” joked Lindsey, jerking a thumb at the TV.

Alicia looked up from the money she was retrieving from her purse. She saw the mugshot and laughed. “Ew, no she doesn't.”

The report continued. “O'Connell's execution will take place later tonight. No press or spectators will be admitted.”

“Rats, I was just about to suggest we move the party there,” said Caitlin.

As Alicia paid the cashier, Chase looked at the TV thoughtfully, even after the anchor moved on to the next story. “That girl hunt too?” she inquired.

Her friends exchanged uncertain glances. “Well, in a sense, I guess.” said Caitlin, grabbing the cups. “But she didn't kill anybody to eat them. She just did it for money.”

The group pushed the door open and left the store. The sun was setting in the cloudless sky, casting a low-angled, harsh light across the glinting parking lot blacktop. Chase frowned and shielded her eyes. “That not good. Kill bad when not need. Back in woods, learn to use all parts of corpse. Waste none!”

“Well, she'll be on the receiving end soon,” said Lindsey morbidly.

This surprised Chase. “Her get kill?”

“Yeah, that's what they were talking about on the news,” said Alicia. “That's what 'executed' means. She got caught so now they're going to give her the death penalty.”

Chase considered this, then realized, “Them do that to me if caught me?”

“Well, based on what that Agent Stevens guy told us, they would rather study you,” said Alicia. “But ordinarily, yeah, I guess so. Usually they'd be less inclined to give a woman the death penalty, but they're giving it to Babyface O'Connell and I'm sure you've killed way more people than her.”

“Oh yes, way more,” answered Chase, feeling competitive. She defended herself by saying: “But kill for eat. Kill for want food. Them not mind so much for that.”

“Actually, that would probably make it worse,” said Caitlin.

…........

A few miles away, in the Otsego County High Security Women's Correctional Facility, Babyface O'Connell was calm as she was led to a clean, white room sparsely furnished with clean, white medical equipment. The air was cool and processed, diffusing an ambient mechanical hum. If it wasn't for the straps on the bed, it might have been mistaken for a dentist's office.

On the wall was a mirror she was certain was of the one-way variety. Were the families of her victims on the other side of that glass? Were they hoping for some sort of closure from seeing her die?

If they were, they'd have to find it some other way.

There was no priest in the room. They had asked her the day before about her religion, and she said she didn't have one. So, the only person waiting for her was another guard and a doctor. In addition to the guard who brought her in, that made three guests total.

“This is the quietest you've been your entire stay here,” her escort commented. She didn't reply. Partly because she didn't want to humor him with a response, and also because she felt the pain in her hand might make her voice crack.

“Guess the reality of it is sinking in,” said the second guard. “Maybe she's accepted it.”

She'd broken her hand about an hour ago, while she was still alone in her cell. She could have slipped out of her cuffs then and there, but she didn't have a weapon yet, and she wouldn't get far without one. Her window of opportunity was closing, though. Weapon or not, she had to make a move soon.

“You know, even after all this time, I still can't believe such a sweet-looking girl could do something like that,” the second guard continued.

The first guard unlocked her handcuffs and roughly led her to the bed. “I can. The pretty ones are the craziest.”

They were being awfully glib. Babyface glanced at the mirror. That meant no audience. An audience would demand a performance, a posture of ceremony.

Good. They were alone. That would make things much simpler.

As the doctor strapped Babyface in, the first guard nodded and turned to leave. “We'll be right outside the door.”

The second guard followed him out, and doctor and killer were left alone. He plugged an IV into her arm, then began to fill a hypodermic needle from a brown bottle. “Please remain still while the dose is administered. You'll feel no pain,” he offered, with a lack of emotion bred from years of routine. She wondered if he did this a lot.

Once the needle was filled, he pulled up a rolling office chair to a small desk by the head of O'Connell's bed. He set the needle down on it next to a yellow notepad and picked up a pen. “If you have any last words, I'll take them now.”

“Actually...” said the woman, trying to sound resigned. “Could I just have something to drink? They haven't given me anything all day. You wouldn't happen to have anything on you, would you?” She'd seen him tuck a Snapple into his bag as she entered. Hopefully he had a little left.

This doctor had never worked with Babyface O'Connell before, but he'd heard rumors of her resourcefulness. “How would you drink it? You don't expect me to unstrap you, surely.”

“I'll lift my head a little and you can just tip it into my mouth,” she begged. “Please?”

The man hesitated, then took pity on her. “Alright, fine,” he said. He bent over to unzip his bag and retrieve the bottle. By the time he sat back up, the needle was gone. Before he could cry out to the guards, it was in his neck.

Babyface freed her other hand, and then her legs, and quietly moved the doctor's body onto the bed. She couldn't make any suspicious noises. She couldn't have the guards rushing in, not before she prepared.

She quickly and quietly searched the room. In one of the cabinets, she found a hard silver briefcase. She opened it and smiled. Rows of empty, sterile syringes.

This would do just fine. The murderer returned to the desk and picked up the brown bottle. It sloshed heavily with liquid death.

….......

“Woohoo! Come on in, come on in!” Alicia shouted, holding the door open and welcoming a small group of her classmates into her rapidly filling home. “Who's ready to PARTY?”

“We are!” her guests replied.

“Alcohol's in the living room!” she informed them. “If you have to puke, all windows are open!” The group cheered and made a beeline for the keg.

Every person Alicia added to the house only made her more excited. She'd expected turnout to be good, but not THIS good! Every room seemed to be wall-to-wall people. And they were all having fun! There was laughing, flirting, weird roughhousing, and even some drunken dancing. It was a good thing she had the foresight to hide the lampshades ahead of time, because they would surely have all been on people's heads by now.

Lindsey's voice rang out. “Hey, there she is!” Alicia looked in the direction it came from. She hadn't had time to drink anything yet, but Lindsey already looked plastered. Her arm was around Caitlin's and Melissa C.'s shoulders, out of both camaraderie and a need to be assisted in standing. “What are you doing standing around by the door? Come join the party!”

“I'm greeting guests!” answered Alicia buoyantly. It was clearly work she found fulfilling.

“You don't need to do that! People can let themselves in!” said Lindsey. “C'mon, Tiffers brought rum! We're doing shots in the kitchen!”

“Tell the whole party, why don't you,” said Melissa C., looking around to see if anyone heard.

Sorely tempted, Alicia replied, “Well, that sounds awesome...but what if somebody tries to party crash?”

“Oh, they will,” said Lindsey confidently. “So, so many people are going to party crash. And you know why?”

“Why's that?” asked Alicia, a bit scared.

The blonde smiled and put a hand on Alicia's shoulder. “Because YOU are an amazing hostess, and your party's awesome!” she flattered.

Alicia never loved Lindsey more than she did in that moment. “Well, okay! Count me in!”

“Wow,” said Caitlin, disgusted but impressed.

The girls went into the kitchen, where some of their squadmates had gathered with excitement around the central island. On it was a fleet of shot glasses, into which Nicole was pouring from a tall bottle with a slutty mermaid on the label. “Alright, nobody let this get out! No boyfriends or anything! This bottle is cheerleaders only!” It was a big bottle, but it definitely wouldn't go far if everyone knew about it.

“Woo woooo!” concurred Lindsey.

Chase was looking at the tiny glasses with curiosity. “This is koo koo drink?” she deduced.

“Yeah,” said Alicia. “You don't have to have any if you don't want.”

“No, it fine,” said Chase. “No threats now. No foes, just friends. Want to have fun with. I try drink!”

Melissa C. slapped her on the back. “Atta girl!”

The fridge door was open, and Brittany was poking around inside. “What do you have for a chaser, Alicia?”

Alicia thought about it. “I think there's some, uh, grape juice in the freezer? But it's still concentrate. We could make it though, I don't think my parents would care.”

“Oh, honey, no,” said Tiffers, “Pirate Pete's Spiced Mangoconut Exotica is super, super sweet. You're gonna want a sour chaser, trust me.”

The teen hostess couldn't believe she'd neglected to prepare for a party amusement as rudimentary as shots, but she was determined to fix things. “Well, I guess I could run back to the convenience store and get some lime juice!”

Her squad was shocked. “Nooo! C'mon Alicia, this is your party! You don't have to go!” said Caitlin.

“I go get lime,” Chase volunteered.

Shaking her head, Alicia insisted, “No, no, no. Thanks, Chase, but you're my guest. This kind of thing is my job.” She looked at the group and smiled. “You guys just stay here and have fun.”

“Are you sure?” asked Caitlin, as Alicia headed for the door.

Alicia gave them a reassuring look. “I'll be right back; it's just a couple blocks.”

…...........

Alicia dropped the two little plastic lime-shaped bottles on the counter. As the cashier began to ring them up, she started digging in her purse for some cash. The TV was still playing the news, but she paid no attention to it, completely preoccupied with thoughts of her party.

“Ah yes, the eleven-thirty P.M. lime juice run. I bet you're going to make a tasty green smoothie with this,” said the guy behind the counter, dully amused. “Eight seventy-five.”

Wondering if there was anything else she needed, she thumbed through her bills for some ones. “-O'Connell,” the TV said. The name sounded familiar, so Alicia looked up, and was once again face to face with the mugshot of the woman Lindsey considered Alicia's criminal doppelganger.

“Though our cameras were not allowed inside,” said a female reporter, standing in front of a barbed wire fence, “...it is reportedly a grisly scene here at the Otsego County High Security Women's Correctional Facility.” The way the floodlight was cast directly at her to fight the night away from her features, only she and the fence were illuminated, and everything beyond it was shrouded in black.

“A trail of dead guards lies inside, but it is a bloodless crime scene, with none of the dead showing any apparent signs of physical trauma. “Babyface” O'Connell, scheduled to be executed tonight, is nowhere to be found. A vehicle in the facility parking lot has been stolen. Police say O'Connell is at large, and should be considered armed and extremely dangerous. They have no leads as to where she might have gone but have initiated a manhunt throughout the surrounding area. All citizens of the following counties: Otsego, Clark, Flatwater, Wahatehwe, Harlowe, and Sunnycrest, are urged to remain indoors tonight, with the doors and windows locked.”

“Holy shit,” commented the cashier. “For once I'm glad my shift doesn't end until morning.”

Alicia was unnerved, watching this report. Should she call off the party? Should she warn her guests? She wasn't concerned about getting home from the convenience store; like she told her friends, it was only a couple blocks. But the thought of fifty or more drunken kids heading home alone at the end of the night with a killer on the loose seemed like reason to worry.

It would ruin the party, but she sadly felt she had to do it. She paid the man and left the store.

The temperature had dropped at least ten degrees since she left her house. It felt like the first serious cold front of the season might be rolling in. Alicia had tossed on a thin turtleneck sweater before she headed out, but this chill was sturdy enough to cut right through it. And on her legs, she just wore a skirt and leggings. She would have loved at least one pocket, so she could put the hand that wasn't holding the grocery bag in it. As cold as it was, though, it wasn't quite cold enough yet to make her forget her mission. She walked briskly.