Murder Hornet: Chapter Two
💡 This story is part of my ongoing series, Murder Hornet, a novel-in-progress unfolding one imperfect chapter at a time.
Chapter II
“Hey, what’s up, Roddy?” I said nonchalantly, trying to hide the fact that he scared the crap out of me.
“Sup, rookie?”
Even though I had known Rodrigo for less than two weeks, it was impossible not to recognize the voice of the captain from the soccer team. He swaggered his way to where I was from the front of my house, followed by Travis and Clayton. We quickly exchanged first bumps and I walked inside my house gesturing for them to follow me.
“Your momma—the person who opened the door? —told us we could wait for you inside,” Roddy said, throwing himself down onto one of the chairs.
“And she’s making iced tea,” continued Travis, rubbing his hands with anticipation.
“Got anything to eat by the way,” Clayton asked from the corner.
“Let me check.”
I dropped my backpack on the floor by the foot of the stairs and crossed the room to the kitchen where I found my mom emerging from inside a pristine subzero fridge.
“Tommy,” she exclained and came over to give me a hug as she closed the fridge with a bump from her hip. “How was your day at school, honey?” She kissed the top of my head.
“Mom, my friends are here,” I protested.
“Oh, are you embarrassed now of your family?” She joked. “Should I take back your baby pictures then?”
“You didn’t dare,” I played along as she poured iced tea into four glasses neatly lined on a fancy looking silver tray on top of the kitchen island.
“I still can’t get used to this new luxurious lifestyle. I don’t know why your dad had to get such an expensive house.”
“He said that compared to New Jersey this house was dirt cheap,” I chimed in, picking up the tray.
“Still,” she tried to take the tray from me, giving up after I held onto it, “I think we should have rented first, for at least six or nine months, just to give us enough time to learn about the different neighborhoods and to let your dad settle in his new job.”
“You know Dad never goes halfway into anything. Remember when he decided he wanted to race drones?”
“How could I? We still have all those fancy tools ‘he just had to have’”, she said sarcastically, making air quotes with her fingers. “He insisted he couldn’t part with something he spent so much time and effort to research and collect.”
“If there is one thing he does really well, is giving his whole self to everything he does,” I added.
“True, but did he have to buy new expensive appliances and furniture too, though? I think this time he overdid it,” she complained to no one in particular. “Do you want me to get you chips and guac for your friends?”
“Yes, thanks mom,” I said over my shoulder and went back to the living room.
“Thanks, Tommy,” mocked Roddy as he grabbed a glass from the tray. He downed his drink and quickly grabbed another glass, belching loudly in appreciation while rubbing his hand over his stomach. “I was parched,” he proclaimed.
Clayton and Travis pounced on the remaining drinks, leaving me holding a tray with Roddy’s empty glass.
“So, you finally met Murder Hornet, huh?”
“Why do you call her that?” I put the tray down on the coffee table and turned to Roddy.
“Didn’t you see how she dresses,” Clayton jumped in. “She only wears yellow and black all the flipping time. She even looks like a hornet with those damn goggles on.”
“Is it true that she wears then at school too?” Travis asked.
“All the time, everywhere she goes.”
“Are they prescription goggles,” I ventured.
“I don’t know,” Clinton shrugged. “She’s always been weird like that.”
“Sheesh,” Travis exclaimed. “I’ve heard of weird people, but she’s definitely on a new category all by herself.”
I shuddered. “I wonder what makes some people go nuts? It must be hard to lead a life like that.”
“It must be all those books she reads. I mean, no normal kid would continue to be normal after reading those ginormous books she carries around. I heard her mum whacks her on the head with those books.”
I looked at Travis to see if he was serious, but he started laughing.
“OK, you got me. I made that one up.” He slapped his knee, apparently happy with his own cleverness.
“You’re all way off,” interjected Roddy who had been quiet up until now.
We all looked at him. He slowly placed his empty glass on the tray before continuing.
“She killed her father,” his stated.
Our shock must have been obvious, as Roddy just laid back and gave us a knowingly smile, basking in the sudden attention from his captivated audience. Travis was the first person to snap out of our collective stupefaction.
“What do you mean, ‘she killed her father’?”
“Yeah,” Clifford and I joined in simultaneously.
Roddy took another look around as if he wanted to preserve this moment for posterity.
“I meant exactly what I said, doofus” he replied to Travis.
“What happened?” I blurted out, my curiosity getting the best of me.
“You were riding with a known killer, rookie” he laughed.
I shuddered at the thought, unable to control myself which sent all three roaring in laughter. I turned a couple of different shades of red, embarrassed at being such an easy target for their joking.
“She did almost run me over today, so I can see how we might be dealing with a serial killer here,” I said quickly, trying to shift their focus to something else. I told them what had happened earlier, making sure to omit the part where I voluntarily stepped in front of her path.
“How did you go from almost roadkill to getting her to drop you off at your door then,” Travis asked.
What can I say,” I shrugged with a smirk. “I have a way with the ladies,” I added with mock flare, getting pelted by a storm of pillows from everyone in response.
“Not a bad start for your initiation,” Roddy winked.
“Wait, Travis interjected. “Are you getting Thomas to do something with Murder Hornet as part of his initiation?” He looked in disbelief and mirth.
“Wait, what???” added Clayton.
“Oh. Rookie over there,” Roddy pointed in my direction, “is going to sweep her off her feet before the end of the year, aren’t you rookie?”
“Oh shit,” Clayton laughed. “That’s just brilliant! Was that your idea, Travis?”
“No way, dude. That was all Roddy.”
“Oh shit!” Clayton stood up and came over to me, taking my hand into his and shaking it up and down. “Congratulations, man. This initiation is going to be epic,” he said looking at Roddy.
Once again I found myself in the spotlight targeted by everyone’s laughter. Was that going to be a constant thing this year from for me, I wondered. I certainly hope not.
“Yeah, I don’t know about that,” I waved dismissively after freeing my hand still being pumped by Clayton. “She’s not my type anyway,” I joked.
“That’s the whole point, rookie,” Roddy said, a strange grin on his face. “If it was easy, then anyone could join the team and we wouldn’t want that to happen, right guys?”
He looked around the room, readily receiving confirmation from both Travis and Clayton as they nodded to him.
“Last time we made it easy for someone to join the team, we let that fucktard Matthew in and he cost us a chance to beat the Tigers two years ago.
“Haha,” Travis laughed. “That kid couldn’t tell a soccer ball from his ass.”
“He was the worst,” Clayton added.
“What happened to him,” I asked.
“Let’s just say that he found himself very disenchanted with the level of support from his teammates. But as in real life most stories have happy endings, our friend Matthew discovered that where he really belongs is with the chess club.”
“Dorks,” Travis shouted, making everyone laugh.
“Hold up, though. Tell us about Murder Hornet killing her dad,” Clayton prompted, sitting down next to me.
“Okay, gather around kids, while uncle Roddy tells you all about East High most notorious criminal.”
For the next ten minutes, Roddy gave us a detailed story about how a 9-year-old Allison Engelhardt decided one day that she was bold and brave enough to go swimming all by herself to a wooden platform in the middle of Jordan Lake, despite her father’s repetitive admonishment for not going alone.
Apparently, she took advantage of a moment of distraction and quietly slipped into the lake while he was prepping the grill for some burgers and hot dogs. It was Memorial Day and while the sun was shining bright, the water’s temperature had been a few degrees lower than the previous weekend, which some people would later claim on may have played a role in what happened next.
Allison got in the water and started for the wooden platform, first slowly so not to attract too much attention with her splashing, progressively taking bigger steps with her arms, just how she learned during her swimming classes at the YMCA.
It was Alison’s mother who first noticed she was missing, raising the alarm after her attempts to find her around their camping site came to nothing. Next thing that happened, her father darted to the lake, swimming like a fiend to the wooden platform where he assumed, correctly, she had gone.
Multiple witnesses later corroborated when providing their testimony to the police that they clearly saw the young girl repeatedly pushing the form of a person under the water, their view not affected by the 50-yard distance separating them from the platform.
After the initial commotion was over, someone was able to use their paddle boat to reach and rescue the shocked Allison, who repeatedly kept saying ‘I killed him, I killed him,’ as she was brought to her frantic mother. Her father’s body was recovered later when a team of divers from Orange County Dive Rescue were able to drag the area around the platform.
We were all stunned into silence.
“But wait a second,” I managed to say. “How could a 9-year-old hold a grown man underwater until he drowned?”
“Yeah,” Clayton jumped in. “She doesn’t look very strong now, and a 9-year-old can’t drown a man!”
“Great observation, Sherlock,” Roddy said sarcastically. “Anyone with half a brain—he looked at Clayton who flipped him off—would agree with your statement. Where the other half of the brain would have come handy is to remember that supposedly the water was colder than usual, so if it was as cold as it was suggested, it is completely possible that the father who jumped in the lake in a heartbeat could have had cramps as he tried to get to the platform and no matter how old or strong the person might be, it would be rather easy to keep someone underwater when they’re partially sinking already.”
“Oh shit,” Clayton exclaimed again.
“Why wasn’t she convicted, then,” this time Travis asked.
“I don’t know,” Roddy shrugged. “She pretty much confessed it—I killed my dad; she said it a bunch of times. If you ask me, she only got off juvie because she’s weird. Her mom must have claimed that she was a basket case and the police bought it.”
We all spent a few seconds, each lost in their own thoughts until Roddy stood up.
“Well, rookie. It’s been great hanging out with you—thanks Mrs. Conrad for the iced tea, he yelled toward the kitchen—but I got places to see and people to do.”
Travis and Clayton also got up, clapped me on the back and made their way out the front door, Rodney lingering behind.
“By the way, rookie,” he said in a lower voice as he clasped my hand. “I take initiation very seriously. Unless you enjoy playing chess, I highly encourage you to continue with your mission to seduce Murder Hornet before Christmas break.”
He looked long into my eyes, then pulled me into a half hug and left.
“Peace out,” he closed the door behind him.
Mom walked into the living room carrying a tray of chips, guacamole and salsa. “Sorry it took me so long, but I refuse to serve canned sausa. It has to be fresh or... where’s everyone?” She looked around placing the tray down near the empty glasses on the coffee table.
“They just left,” I replied with a sigh, not managing to hide it from my mom.
“Is everything okay, honey?”
“Yeah, I perked up, reaching to grab a large corn chip and dunking into the salsa. “Hmm, your best yet” I said closing my eyes and smiling. “Your husband is a lucky man,” I joked.
“No doubt about it,” we heard a voice behind us.
Disclaimer: Murder Hornet is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or real events is purely coincidental. All content presented here is the intellectual property of the author, Og Maciel, and may not be reproduced, distributed, or shared in any form or by any means without the author’s prior written consent.
It's a little info-dumpy initially, but I like where the story seems to be going. Looking forward to some more!