She had heard them singing—she had stood inside the darkened cabin, watching the children sleeping peacefully, tears running down their cheeks. She went through their cabins every night to look at them while they slept, to bless them, to pray for their safety and it broke her heart to see them laying there, so sweet and innocent—so quiet. Jason had always been so quiet, and she had heard them singing. She thought of Jason—alone and filled with fear as he sank into the murky water.

And as they sang, the words came drifting to her on the warm summer breeze.

"River Jordan is deep and wiiiiide, Halluuuuuulejiah…."

She couldn't stop the tears. The pain was more than she could bear. She stared down at the tiny sleeping forms. So quiet. So still.

"Milk and honey on the other siiiiiiiide, Halluuuuuuulejiah…"

Poor Jason… sleeping on the bottom of the lake, alone. No one had heard him calling out for help. No one came in to answer his cries. No one had saved him and she heard them singing. She had stood in the shadows, watching them, watching the way they looked at one another—seeing the lust in their eyes. The way that boy and girl kept looking at each other while they sang. It was dirty. Filthy.

She saw them get up and walk off, hand in hand, heading toward the barn. Saw them pause at the door to kiss, to run their hands over one another's bodies.

Jason was drowning and no one could hear. They couldn't hear because he was crying out for help and she heard them singing and she didn't remember going back into the kitchen. She didn't remember taking the carving knife out of the drawer. She had only the vaguest memories of entering the barn, the knife in her hand as she quietly climbed the stairs to the loft where they were lying on top of one another, moaning and groaning like animals. But she remembered their screams.

Yes! Screams, she had thought, as she had hacked away at them. Scream, no one will hear you—just as you never heard Jason!

She heard the once again as Alice screamed in terror at the sight of Steve Christie's butchered body and she smiled as she moved swiftly in the direction of the screams. The eight-inch hunting knife grasped firmly in her hand. Her lips moved as a small voice, a child's voice issued from her throat.

"Kill her, Mommy! Kill her!"

She quickened her pace.

"Don't let her get away, Mommy! Don't let her live!"

"I won't, Jason. I won't."

Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Steve was dead.