Book: The First - Part: Two - Chapter: 3 - Installment: i

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        I could go back in the house. I’ve got clothes there. No. She could be there. She could be waiting for me. Playing with me.
        There are houses close. Well, not too close. But close. I can be there in ten minutes, maybe less.
        Christ, I’m naked. I can’t knock on a stranger’s door naked. What would they think?
I could… How far am I from the University? I could stick to the bushes. That’ll be easy once I get to the endowment lands, and I’m practically at Kerrisdale, even that won’t be too bad this late.
        Fuck, it’s cold. No clouds, all the heat of the day is escaping. It’d take me at least ninety minutes without trying to stay covered. Could I get hypothermia?
       What if I collapse from the shivers in Pacific Spirit Park? No-one would find me until at least mid-morning, if I was on a trail. Could I die of exposure in that time? Probably. It’s fucking cold.
        Even if I did get back to Rez, how would I get into the building? My keys are in my stuff and that’s back at the house – Christ, the police are going to find it. What am I going to tell them?
        You’re going to have to tell them something. What? The truth? Yeah, that’ll go over like a… I don’t know. A leaden dirigible. Something like that. Imagine the Hindenburg made completely of lead. Wouldn’t have had that blowing up problem, they’d still be trying to figure out how to get their damned lead zeppelin off the… oh. Led Zeppelin. Never put that together before. Stupid fucking name for a stupid fucking band. Can’t figure out why Dad still listens to that classic rock shit. Dad!
        Well, duh.
        Go to that house up there. Call Dad. That’ll give me time to figure out what to tell the police. Maybe get back to the house before someone finds Ruthven – Kevin, what do I call him now? That knife has my fingerprints on it. Shit. Everything has my god-damned fingerprints on it… well, not the snapped necks. That’s the vampire’s problem. Somehow I doubt she’s concerned.
        What if she’s following me? Just using me to lead her to someone else. No. That’s just dumb. There are people all over the place. She could find them easily enough on her own. Why on earth did she leave me go? Makes no sense.
        Okay, what do I tell Dad? He is going to spaz out. If I turn up naked on the edge of Marpole everything he ever thought about me needing protection is going to be totally validated  I’ll be lucky if I ever breathe unfiltered air ever again. Shit.
        For that matter, what do I tell whoever owns that house? God, I hope they’re good people.
        Ha! There’s one for ya. How bad could they be? I just saw my boyfriend and a bunch of his friends slaughtered like feed animals. No. They were feed animals. And I killed Kevin. Well… did I? She killed Ruthven, I killed Kevin? Something like that.
        Anyway, they could be psycho-rapists and still be a step up. Hey, if they’re rapists, at least I’d still lose my virginity tonight!
        Okay, that wasn’t funny.
        They’re probably decent peeps, from here the house looks nice… not that that makes a difference to what kinda folks they are. 
        So, what do I tell them? I don’t have to tell them what happened. I don’t have to tell them anything. I just have to get them to let Me call Dad. Doesn’t matter what else they think… but they can’t call the police. Period. I am not ready to explain. I can say anything to them. Dad, I can probably get by with an ‘I’m not ready to talk about it yet’ until tomorrow. The police… there is no way around it. Someone is going to have to explain that mess eventually. Soon. What do I tell the police? It has to be the same thing I tell Dad.
        Jennifer and her adjutants – whoever they were in real life (Fucking poser Goths too self-obsessed to accept the ease that a ‘normal’ life provides those who aren’t hung up on image. Ironic, that.) – would be reported missing soon. Perhaps a day at the outside before someone expects one of them to be somewhere that they aren’t. Less time before someone notices that they aren’t answering their cell-phones. Chances are someone knew the group were going somewhere together – possibly even knew where. Fuck. How the hell do I divorce myself from that? 
        Blame it all on Kevin? Say I alone managed to save myself from his insane rampage? Not far from the truth. You might be able to massage that into a perpetuable lie. ‘Perpetuable?’ Is that even a word? I know what I mean. Besides, it’s not like they’ll think the truth is the truth. And there’s no other witnesses. I could chalk up any forensic questions to the chaos of the moment.
        Okay, there we go. The beginnings of a story. Feign a bit of amnesiac shock to buy more time.
        Still, what do I tell the people in this house to keep the police out of the equation for a few more hours at least? Not a clue. Fuck it. I’m naked. If they aren’t more concerned about that at first, something is definitely wrong.
        I’m not staying out here any longer to figure it out. Too cold. I can hardly feel my toes.
        When in doubt, stick to amnesiac shock and demand they call Dad and not the police. Even be a bit crazy about it. Look what happened back there. People fall in and do stupid things when faced with demanding psychos.
        Okay, here we go…
        Wow. Elaborate door chime. Christ, I’m probably waking someone up…
        Nothing. Ring again.
        Okay, footsteps. Oh. Not very pleased sounding footsteps. I woke someone up.
        I should I try and cover myself behind the plants.
        And here they are…


        “Who is there?”
        “Please. I need some help.”
        “I can’t see you. I’m not opening the door unless I can see you. Step out of the… Oh My God!”


        Must be more blood than I realized. 

     Chapter 4     CLICK HERE for an explanation of the non-linearity of chapter numbers.

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Necropolis by Kennedy Goodkey is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 2.5 Canada License.
Based on a work at necropolisnovels.blogspot.com.