At first, Babyface O'Connell ran.

She stole a car and put pedal to metal, attempting to put as much distance between the prison and herself as possible. She tried to put together a game plan, figure out the best place to drive to and hide out, but the only thing she could keep her mind on was the rush of her escape. Her mind was flooded with excitement. To see trees again, to see rivers and lakes and rocks and the highway, to hear the practically alien roar of a car engine, intoxicated her. After years in prison, seeing nothing but concrete and bars, she got drunk on sight and sensation.

Shortly after she crossed the Sunnycrest county line, she sobered up, and pulled off to the side of the road. Calmly, she considered her next move.

She was still wearing her orange prison boiler suit. She needed normal clothes. She needed to steal those, and she needed to steal a phone, and a weapon. Granted, she still had some of the lethal injection chemical left, and some needles, but she'd feel a lot more at home with a pistol in her hand. She also needed to change rides. The police would already have the number of this one, and it was almost out of gas. Gas stations had parking lot cameras. Her freedom wouldn't last very long if she tried to fill it up.

Upon thinking about it, she decided it might be best to avoid urban areas altogether. They probably had a camera on every street corner by now. She'd been locked up a long time.

It was best to stay in the country. This was a state big and empty enough for anybody to disappear in. She still had a lot of connections on the outside. If she could get a phone, she could find somebody out here to hide her. She'd get what she needed from some hick town where nothing ever happened, and then vanish.

So, she stopped outside the town of Sunnycrest, filled a couple syringes, replaced them in the briefcase, then ditched the car in a dry, overgrown streambed. She covered it with brush and fallen branches, then crept into town, keeping carefully to the shadows.

It looked as though she was in the residential part of Sunnycrest—a good thing and a bad thing. On the one hand, this was where she'd find all her supplies, but on the other, at this time of night, this is where everyone would be. There were a lot of eyes that could see her, even if most of them were closed. She skulked around a few backyards, briefcase in hand, wondering where to begin.

She loitered in front of a two-story house, considering it. Whatever house she selected, she needed to do it quick. Although it was dark, in her bright orange she felt like she was screaming out to be caught. The other stuff could wait; first thing she needed was definitely clothes.

Then, she heard quick footsteps on the sidewalk. She ducked behind a low hedge. Once the footsteps passed, she cautiously peered out.

It was a girl. Maybe a teenager. Alone.

Everyone O'Connell had ever killed was for the sake of profit. She had earned something off every body she piled up. Whether she was killing a witness, bumping off a competitor, whatever, it was always accompanied by personal gain. That said, she had never killed someone for a change of clothing before. It almost seemed like a waste of life. But, well, the kid did look like her size.

She took a syringe out of the case and leapt over the hedge. “Don't move,” she spoke.

Alicia stopped and turned around. She saw the orange jumpsuit first, then saw the face of the woman inside it. Her green eyes widened, then she turned and ran with a scream.

The killer was on her in an instant. Before she could get two steps, she was tackled to the cement. A surprisingly soft hand was clapped over her mouth. “Alright, shhh, shhh. Take it easy, kid. Take it easy. It'll be over in a second,” the woman said.

But as she rolled the girl over, O'Connell was struck dumb. The girl on the ground beneath her was...herself!

She was losing it. Keeping a hand over the girl's mouth, she lifted the hand that clutched the needle, rubbed her eyes on her sleeve, then looked again.

No, it wasn't her...but the resemblance was remarkable. This kid looked exactly like her.

This unexpected similarity gave her pause. Once she had a second to think things over, she realized this girl had more potential value to her alive than dead.

She lifted the teen's head, then slammed it on the sidewalk to knock her out. Then, looking around to make sure no one saw, she dragged the girl off the sidewalk and quickly traded clothes with her.

She shouldered the girl's purse, then took out a cell phone out of it. She affected a terrified tremor in her voice, and called the police. “Y-yes? Hello?! I-I just saw that loose killer who was on TV! She came right at this guy, but he fought her off and I think he knocked her out!” She looked up at a street sign. “She's right on the corner of Cedar and G! Please hurry, I don't want to be around when she wakes up!”

Before she could be questioned or told to remain where she was, she hung up. She dragged the girl's unconscious body back out onto the sidewalk, then looked around to make sure she didn't leave any evidence behind.

Her eyes fell on a grocery bag the girl had dropped in the scuffle. She bent down to scoop it up, and stuffed it into the purse, mind buzzing with excitement. What good fortune. She'd just stumbled upon her ticket to freedom. Once the police hauled this brat in, it'd keep them off her trail for a long time. Maybe even forever.

Grinning to herself, she slunk back into the shadows of Sunnycrest's sleeping backyards.

....

“Whoa, shots?!” shouted some guy who came into the kitchen looking for snacks. He looked at the island of delights as though a feast had been prepared for him. “Kickass! SHOTS! SHOTS! SHOTS!”

“Shhh! Shhh!” hissed Lindsey.

“Dude, shut up!” Tiffers panicked. He was giving the chant. Any minute a fleet of his bros would come barging in, roused by this call to arms.

“SHOTS! SHOTS!”

“They're not shots!” blurted Brittany desperately.

The guy looked at the spread of filled and waiting shot glasses. “They're not?” He seemed rightly skeptical.

“No! They're...” Brittany trailed off. “Um...”

“Sweat!” finished Lindsey.

He raised an eyebrow. “Sweat,” he said slowly.

“Er, yeah. Sweat,” confirmed Lindsey. She grabbed a napkin out of Alicia's napkin holder, wiped it on her forehead, then twisted it like she was wringing it out into one of the glasses. “Phewwww, long day.”

“Dude, sick!” replied the guy. He made a quick exit.

Alone again, the cheerleaders sighed with relief. “That was close,” said Melissa C.

“Quick thinking, Lindsey,” Caitlin praised. “You made us look really disgusting to that guy, but quick thinking.”

“Worth it,” said Tiffers, cradling the rum bottle protectively.

Lindsey crumpled up the napkin and tossed it in the trash. “What the heck is keeping Alicia? I don't know how much longer we can keep this up.”

“Hey, wait a second.” Samantha pointed toward a sliding glass door in it that led to the backyard. “Isn't that her out there?”

Through the door they could see what appeared to be Alicia, creeping through the yard, trying not to be noticed.

Everybody was happy to see her. Lindsey opened the door, then called out gratefully: “Alicia! Finally!”

Babyface O'Connell froze. Panic seized her. She was spotted! Her first instinct was to flee, but Lindsey quickly grabbed her wrist and pulled her inside. “C'mon, what were you doing out there? Everybody's waiting!”

Babyface O'Connell looked around at the kitchen full of young faces and realized what was happening. These girls personally knew her doppelganger. She considered running away. If they got to talking with her, it would probably take them no time at all to figure out she wasn't really who they thought she was. But turning and running would only arouse even more suspicion. And killing them all would be an even worse idea if keeping a low profile was her goal. O'Connell had no choice but to try and fit in until the opportunity came to slip away.

“Hey, I had stuff to do,” said Babyface O'Connell brusquely.

“Did you get the juice, did you get the juice?” asked Lindsey excitedly, opening up Alicia's purse and looking inside. “Aw yeah!” Lindsey grinned took the bottles out, holding them over her head triumphantly. The other girls cheered.

“Alicia, Alicia, Alicia!” chanted Danielle. The others joined in.

“Nice going, Alicia,” concluded Melissa C. “Now c'mon, it's time for shots!”

The murderer looked at the glasses, and suddenly felt thirsty. She hadn't had a drink since she went to prison. “Fuck yeah, now you're talking.”

The other girls stared at her for a second, then burst out laughing. “Since when do you say, 'fuck yeah?'” asked Caitlin, amused, picking up her glass. Everyone else did the same.

“Since right now! What's it to ya, ponytail?” confronted O'Connell.

Caitlin was taken aback. “Wow, okay. Sorry, Alicia.”

From the awkward looks she got, Babyface O'Connell deduced she'd said something out of character. Apparently, this Alicia girl was not the aggressive type.

Lindsey drunkenly ruffled her red hair. “Awww, lighten up, Caitlin! Alicia's just finally loosening up! She's feeling feisty and she's here to party!” She raised her drink to toast. “As are we all!”

Everybody drank to that, and then, with some scattered disgusted coughing, started passing around the lime bottles.

“Oh! It gross,” flinched Chase, setting down the empty glass with distaste.

“Here, here,” said Caitlin, taking a squirt of lime, and pushing the bottle into Chase's hands. “Have as much as you want.”

When one came to O'Connell, she boldly passed it on to the next girl. “What am I, a fuckin' kid? I don't need any chaser.”

“Whoa, really?” asked Lindsey.

The gangster replied by pouring herself another shot and downing it as well. Lindsey looked amazed. “Wow, Alicia. I didn't know you were such a badass!” All the others were impressed as well, except for Chase. She eyed her captain with suspicion but said nothing.

….....

“So, I told him,” garbled Lindsey. She was slumped over the island, rum bottle in hand. She took a drink of it straight from the bottle, then had a squirt of lime, and passed both containers along to Caitlin. “I told him, I told him...”

“Yeah?” asked Caitlin, annoyed, setting them aside.

Lindsey tried to remember, then shrugged and put her head down. “Eh, it probably wasn't anything important.” She'd been telling this story for twenty minutes.

During that time, most of the other cheerleaders had gone their separate ways, but Chase, Caitlin, Lindsey and an impatient intruder remained.

Babyface O'Connell yawned. This was excruciating. She kept trying to find a chance to slip off, but these kids were glued to her. Didn't they have anything better to do at a party than hang out with her?

“So, are there any men at this party, or...?” she asked, bored. While she was stuck here, Babyface O'Connell figured she might as well have a little fun. She'd been without men for just as long as she'd been without alcohol.

“Party?” asked Lindsey, looking around. “Oh yeah, we're at a party.” On the third try, she stood up, and put an arm around O'Connell and grinned. “And HELLLLL yeah we got guys here! I know what you're thinkin'! You're wantin' ta get BUSY with Kirk tonight! I knew it! I KNEW it! You can't get anything past me!”

Who was Kirk? “Maybe I do and maybe I don't,” said O'Connell casually. “What's he look like?”

Lindsey considered this as well. She scratched her addled head. “Ya know, I can't remember, either. Let's go find him!” Caitlin shook her head and sighed.

The four of them emerged from the kitchen, some more drunk than others.

“Head feel fuzz,” said Chase, putting her hands on it. “Feel koo koo!”

“Do you like it?” asked Caitlin.

Chase considered it. “New feel! Feel, um, wild! Want fight!” she said eagerly.

She may have started drinking to celebrate peace, but now that she had worked up a buzz, she was feeling rowdy. With the burdens of having to fight FOR something (such as the safety of her friends or herself) forgotten, she realized it had been a very long time since last experiencing the joy of tussling with somebody simply for pleasure.

“Uh oh, looks like Chase is a violent drunk,” joked Lindsey.

“Yes! Am vy lent!” confirmed Chase.