How to Slay a Beast (Book 1)

Chapter 12

"You cleaned the kitchen," I said, as we sit at the little table.

"Yeah," my mom said.

"It looks good."

"Thanks."

"How was work?" I asked.

"It was fine," she said, "How was school?"

"Fine," I said.

"You got a lot of books, from the library," she said.

"I'm doing a research project, sort of," I said.

"What is it about?"

"About things I like. Something Mr. Breeden said to me, the other week, he said I should do something I really like and I'm good at. I think I'm finding what that is," I said.

"That's good," she said, staring down at her plate.

"Yeah," I said.

**

"I want to buy that gun," I said, pointing at the gun behind the counter. I put the cash on the table.

"What—you too lady?" the attendant asked.

"Yes, you're going to give me that gun right now," I said, pushing the envelope across the table.

"We need like, background checks and stuff," he said.

"No, you don't. you need to walk over there, and take that gun off the shelf, and hand it to me," I said, "And then I walk out of here, and I don't scream rape, and don't say you touched my tits."

"They don't believe that shit---"

"Actually they do, you want to bet?" I asked, unbuttoning my shirt.

"Okay—fine," he went and picked up the gun.

"Thanks," I said, taking it from him, "Give me some ammo too—and a pack of camels."

"Lady I'm not even---"

"The ones in your pocket will do fine."

**

"It's getting dark, we should go in," I said, setting down the hammer. The frame of the fort stood tall in the darkening woods.

"I don't think it'll come and get us," Enoch said, with a sigh, "But I don't see why it had to come and get Del."

"Neither do I baby," I said, putting a hand on his shoulders, "But this will be better, huh?"

"Yeah," he said, smiling at the beginnings of the fort, "This'll be better."

**

"Here's your gun."

"What happened to waiting three days?" he asked, confused, as I handed him the gun.

"You got a light?" I asked, holding up a cigarette. He pulled a match from his pocket, and, with trembling hands, lit my cigarette. I took a long drag.

"Can I have one?" he asked. I handed him a cigarette, lighting it from mine. He put it in his mouth as he knelt, putting the gun in the case. The light reflected on his big glasses.

"Why'd you get sent to a mental hospital?" I asked.

"Because they said I was crazy," he said.

"How crazy?" I asked.

"Trying to kill people crazy," he said, standing up.

"Just trying?"

"Well, no---sort of succeeding," he explained, putting the bag over his shoulder.