If I had been thinking at all I would have washed up and tried to find some other clothes to put on before I staggered out into the hallway. I wasn’t thinking though so I didn’t do that. I just went out into the hallway of Duke’s condo complex covered in blood, looking like I had just been involved in a murder. Which I had.
One neighbor was out in the hall with his phone to his ear. Why didn’t he have it on speaker? I guess he didn’t want to be rude while he talked to 911. Heavyset dude with a little goat-beard. He had really soft clear skin, I know a lot of women who would love to have that skin. I hope for his sake that he never goes to prison.
Another neighbor was peeping out a crack the doorway. She had a robe/kimono on with a flower pattern that she was doing just a terrible job of keeping closed because I could see that she was wearing a Fleur du Mal Violet Balconette Bra & Underwear set. I have the same one. Well not the SAME one, we’re not sharing underwear like some kind of traveling bra sisterhood, but you know what I mean.
Why was she wearing fancy underwear and a sexy robe at 7 PM? If she was with someone why wasn’t HE the one at the door? Could have been another lady I suppose, but she was ‘lil, surely her companion was the bruiser out of the two. Maybe she was putting on a webcam show and I interrupted her.
Softskin came forward a few steps with the phone still half on his face and asked me if I was okay. I said “no” and pushed past him.
He made a move like he was going to grab me maybe but shorty robe said to him with eyes wide not to touch me because I might have “viral hemorrhagic fever”. Which I have to admit is more a reasonable explanation than the truth.
Softskin then asked if I was hurt or if “something happened” to my back as I walked away. I was afraid he was going to follow me but he didn’t.
I didn’t see anyone else on the way out. When I rushed into the parking lot I felt like the sunlight was stabbing into my eyes accusingly. My best friend just died. By my hand. Why was the sun out? It should be raining and storming.
Xlade’s Corvair (is it still his after he’s dead?) wasn’t locked but I didn’t have the keys. If I had been thinking I would have grabbed them out of his pocket before I left. That would have made not checking to see if he was really dead even more of a dick move but it would have been smart. I wasn’t thinking though so I didn’t have the keys. I just stood there staring at the car like an unfrozen caveman. There was no way I was going back for those keys.
I thought about hotwiring it, but I have no idea how to hotwire a car. You know who did know who how to hotwire a car? Martialla. I didn’t notice the car roll up behind me, or the driver speaking to me, but I did notice when she threw a peanut shell at me.
The car was some kind of old station wagon from the 80s which technically made it newer than Xlade’s Corvair but it was in far worse shape. I have no idea what was even keeping the thing together. You know how when you’re making a snowman if you roll the bottom ball (is that legs or ass?) too big it will break apart, often almost exactly in half? It was like that in car form, only it was staying together somehow.
The driver had a bad scar across her nose and mouth that made her look like she had a harelip. She had a bunch of scars on her hands and arms too, like that kid in school for fell into a hay bailer. What was his name? Finn? Something weird like that.
I’m all for dressing down when the occasion calls for it, but this newcomer appeared to have acquired her entire wardrobe by climbing nude into one of those clothing donation bins and just wriggling around in there until some stuff worked its way onto her body, then climbing back out and saying “good enough”.
I certainly wouldn’t say anything to her about it though because she looked like a tough bitch. She looked like one of those UFC fighter women whose body appears to be a beef jerky stick of muscle with some hair and tits. The funny thing about her is that she had kind eyes. She had the eyes that belonged to the tiny robe girl a few floors up.
“You need a ride?” her voice was surprisingly lilting and feminine.
I can’t say why I got in her hunk of junk, maybe I was in shock, I mean for sure I was in shock, but it seemed like an okay idea. I was expecting the interior to be filled with fast food wrappers and other garbage but aside from being old and have a rust-hole on the floor it was perfectly tidy. Once I was in in the passenger seat she drove away in a way that I can only describe as casually.
“Put your seatbelt on please.”
I obeyed dully “Are you going to kill me?”
She glanced over at me “I don’t think so. I try to kill people as little as possible. Have you done anything that would get you on the kill list?”
I plucked at my bloody shirt “A vampire just tricked me into murdering my best friend.”
She nodded “Yeah, they do that. Fuckers.”
Rocket Cat 