My debut novel, Inconstant Moon is complete. The entire story is told, and it has all been posted here, serialization style, one day at a time.

That’s why it says ‘The End‘ at the bottom of Chapter 140 which was published yesterday.

I’m very proud of the fact that I was able to accomplish this, and I’m learning a lot about self publishing. The idea is that I’ll share what I have learned/am learning about self publishing in the new Libreleft Books blog.

[Since I’ve no intention of stopping self publishing any time soon, it seemed clever to spring for the Libreleft.com domain name.) Right now the new Libreleft site is a place holder; I expect to have it up and running properly before November 1st.]

special features

Over the next while I’ll be building on the special features already begun here.

Still to come are special character pages for the whole cast, articles about the setting, the writing, the illustrations and so on. I will link or reprint any reviews on the BUZZ page, and answer any questions. If you’ve read Inconstant Moon and want to write a review I’ll be happy to publish it here as well.

There are also bits of a book trailer floating around in my head… we’ll see how it goes.

I plan to publish a new special feature page every Thursday until I’m finished.

If you wish to be notified when the new pages are posted, you can subscribe to this blog or watch for my announcements on Identica &tc.

At this point I don’t intend to write a sequel. This book is not part of a series, although I will not rule out the possibility of any of the characters appearing in future books.

I hope to get the first draft of my second novel, which is a lot more noir, ‘The Girl In The Blue Flame Cafe‘ out to beta readers, again, before November, because I plan on beginning to write my third novel as part of NaNoWriMo 2011. If you’re interested in Beta reading, drop me a line at laurel.l@russwurm.org.

reading the novel

Meanwhile, this blog isn’t going anywhere. Anyone can start at the beginning and read Inconstant Moon online here at any time.

While preparing the serialization segments, I’ve been doing final-final proof reading of Inconstant Moon. This absolutely final version will be uploaded anew to CreateSpace, as soon as the good eBook versions are available. I’m also considering releasing Inconstant Moon in other print formats as well; we’ll see how it goes.

Right now my priority is mastering eBook formats so I can make it available in as many formats possible.

If anyone wishes to attempt a translation into any other language, let me know, and I’ll furnish you with the text in whatever format you like. I’ve just done a redesign of the ebook cover, since I’ve managed to take a better photograph of the moon.

the cost of free

A lot of people think that the best way to get people reading your novels is to charge them a low price for the ebook.

Even discounting the fact that eBooks should be inexpensive because digital copies are cheap*, when I look at how I became a reader, it was through reading things for free. If not gifts, books were borrowed from friends or libraries; the books I read were free. That’s how I learned what books and what writers I liked. As i got older, the other way I discover new books, or come to like new writers, has been through buying cheap print books on spec.

Book store remainder tables, used book stores, and fund raising book sales, and private yard sales, are all wonderful places to get books by a writer I’d not heard of or never read. You can take a flyer on a book if you like the cover art, or an interesting blurb on the dust jacket. I’ve paid anywhere from a few pennies to a few dollars to try out a book. But even trying a book on spec cheaply takes an investment of time.

Back when I was working in the film business I was always thrilled when free tickets to theatrical movies came my way. Yet I remember one film so incredibly awful that I not only walked out in the middle, to this day I resent the time I wasted sitting in the theatre — hoping for it to get better — more than twenty years later. And reading a book requires a greater investment of time than watching a film.

So my thinking is this; even if I only pay a couple of bucks for a book I’m not thrilled with, I’m unlikely to do so again. Even if there are good things about the book, even if it’s well written, if the story doesn’t engage me, or if I don’t connect with a character in that book, that couple of bucks is the only chance that writer gets at me. I probably won’t risk even that next time.

On the other hand, I’ll give a writer more than one chance if the book is free. And sometimes it takes more than one book to decide if you like the author, particularly if the first book you read is atypical of that author.

So. Read the novel here. If it’s not your kind of book, perhaps the next one will be. And you aren’t out a nickel, only as much time as you decided you were willing to invest. If you decide at some point that you like my work well enough to want me to continue, when you can afford it, you can purchase a copy of this or another of my books, for yourself or someone else. And if not, that’s okay too.

Please note: If you are considering purchasing Inconstant Moon as either a print book or eBook, I suggest waiting a few days until the final version is ready. I will announce it on Identica, Twitter, Facebook and here.

Inconstant Moon

I began thinking about this book in my head in the 1980’s. There were themes I very much wanted to explore, but they were like puzzle pieces; I had no idea how to put them together. The day after I decided — at the last minute — to participate in the 2009 NaNoWriMo, I woke up with the key to unlock the story. When I began outlining I decided it had to be comtemporary. Since the technological revolution which occurred since my own college days, setting it now added to the challenge.

Writing Inconstant Moon has been an adventure for me, as well as a valuable learning experience. I’ve learned an extraordinary amount, both about writing in novel form and self publishing. For me, the technical details of self publishing are by far the more difficult of the two. It doesn’t come at all naturally for me, but in today’s world, it is the only reasonable option. But I do know that the lessons I’ve learned on this one will make self publishing my next books easier.

I hope you’ve enjoyed reading this as much as I have enjoyed writing it; and I hope you’ll pass the link it on to someone else who may enjoy dropping in to visit the Christie Campus.

licensing

As I writer, my primary goal is to have people read my work. Although it would be fabulous if people were to buy the odd copy, that is a secondary consideration.

I’m afraid that copyright law harms creators rather than helping, particularly in Canada, which has some of the strongest copyright law in the world. I know will be blogging more about this in the days to come, particularly as the Canadian government is considering passing a so-called “modernization” of copyright law called Bill C11 (a revival of the unpassed Bill C-32) that could very easily be used to suppress independent self publishing. Naturally, I think this is a bad thing.

If anything, I think copyright terms should be shorter, and the public domain needs strengthening. Besides serializing Inconstant Moon here and for five years it will be licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 2.5 Canada License.

At that time, I intend to change the license, to release the novel into the public domain in 2016.

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* “digital copies are cheap” — making a digital copy doesn’t cost more than making a copy of an email, or any file on your computer. Producing the book (or movie, music, software, art, etc.) can cost money, but the real cost of both producing the copies and disseminating them online is very nearly free. Printing and distribution of books is what made print books so expensive.

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Adam pulls into the parking lot, shaking his head as the engine continues to run on even after he pulls the key out. He sighs, hoping that it’ll hold together until he can afford to do something about it. He pats the dashboard and murmurs his ritual, “Hear me baby, hold together” with the tiniest glimmer of a smile.

Adam picks up his laptop case and gets out, locking the door, idly wondering why, since if someone stole this piece of junk maybe he’d get a better one out of the insurance.

No. He would undoubtedly end up with something worse. As Adam starts across the lot toward the mouth of the path he catches movement out of the corner of his eye.

Glancing over, Adam sees some guy leaning over Barbie’s car. He stops, and turns back. It certainly is not Barbie, but it is her car. He heads over, getting closer to the guy as he moves between the parked cars. The guy looks a bit familiar but Adam can’t place him. And he’s definitely trying to get into Barbie’s car. It’s now or never.

“Hey!” Adam calls out. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m just borrowing my friend’s car. Do you mind?” Jose answers back, then he turns holding up a keyring dangling with keys. Adam steps closer, and yes, he recognizes Barbie’s key ring from the night they went to the concert.

“Alright.” Adam nods with a sigh, but he keeps approaching. Must be another one of Barbie’s hordes of admirers. But what’s wrong with his face?

Adam narrows his eyes to try and make sense of the vertical lines on the guy’s cheeks.

Is it paint? No, it’s too regular, it looks kind of like blood. No, that does not make sense. The guy goes back to the door and finally gets the correct key in the door lock as Adam comes within a few feet.

He swings the door open and Adam extends a hand, “I’m Barbie’s friend Adam from the computer club.”

Ignoring his outstretched hand, the guy frowns, then says, “You’re the one put Linux on her laptop?”

Adam feels a momentary burst of pleasure – Barbie must have been talking about him. But then it dissolves as he realizes Barbie must like this man a lot to lend him her car. Adam says, “Yes.”

But then he looks at the man. He is a real mess. Adam squints a little, trying to figure out what’s wrong with his face without actually staring or anything.

“I gotta go pick some stuff up.” Jose stops and realizes that Adam is scrutinizing his face. He’s gotta get out of here before Dilbert gets the picture. He resists the urge to self consciously reach up and touch his face. Shit. “Look, pal, I don’t have a beef with you, so just back off, Okay?”

“What’s wrong with your face?”

“I got a rash. Barbie’s just lending me her car so I can, so I can go home and get cleaned up.”

Realizing he has just been lied to, Adam stops pretending nonchalance and just stares at the guy. “Is that blood?”

“Look, pal, just take off, and you won’t get hurt.”

“You stole Barbie’s keys?”

“I’m not a fucking thief. She gave me her keys so I could use her car.” Jose glowers. “Barbie’s lending me her car. She gave me her keys. She’s my girlfriend.”

But Adam remembers the guy with the fancy red car. That would be Barbie’s real boyfriend. Not this man. Another lie.

“I’ll ask Barbie, then.” Adam unclips the brand new cellphone on his belt and starts to punch in Barbie’s number.

“Just leave it alone. Go away.”

Jose steps forward and knocks Adam’s cellphone out of his hand. The phone flies through the air and then bounces twice on the asphalt before shattering. Adam stares at his new phone in horror. He just got it programmed. And only used it once.

Jose turns back toward Barbie’s car and Adam swings his computer bag at him. It hits Jose in the back, making him stagger into the car door. Only grabbing onto the handle keeps him from falling down but it makes the door slam shut again. Jose doesn’t care, he is just too angry at this stupid nerd.

Turning back to Adam he says. “What the hell did you do that for?”

“First you broke my cellphone and now you are attempting to steal Barbie’s car.”

“Piss off, I’m just borrowing her car. Besides, why should you care, she was only ever nice to you so you’d fix her computer for free. She was just using you, you loser. So just bug the hell off.”

“Why should I believe you? Why would I believe anything a car thief says, Mister Loser?”

Jose just flips him the bird and reaches for the door handle again.

Adam steps in even closer, crowding him. “No. This is not your car.”

Jose tries to elbow Adam, but somehow finds himself sitting in the dirt. His bloody balance must be off after the ruckus with Barbie. He scrambles to his feet and takes a swing at the guy and misses again.

This is getting annoying. especially since he can hear sirens. Goddamn, are they coming for him already? He can’t even get off the bloody campus because of this crazy geek. He looks over at the scrawny little guy in a tie. A fuckin’ tie for god’s sake. “What is your problem?”

“You can’t just go around breaking people’s phones and pushing them around. I am just so sick of bullies.”

Jose launches himself at Adam who easily sidesteps. Jose ends up skidding and sliding onto his knees on the asphalt.

“Who the fuck do you think you are, Batman?”

“No, just a geek who thought martial arts training might help me deal with neanderthals like you. Have you had enough?”

Jose starts picking himself up. This is so ridiculous. This 98 pound weakling – wearing a tie for gods sake – is stopping him from getting away.

That’s it, no more mister nice guy.

With a mighty roar Jose lunges at Adam with all the force he can muster. This time Adam does not step away but rather steps in, grasping Jose’s wrist and somehow transforming the attack into a kind of ballet, altering the direction of movement and somehow sending Jose face first into the side door of the hummer parked in the adjacent parking spot.

Blinding pain.

God that hurt. For a second it’s like a hot needle in his nose, then Jose realizes his nose is broken, as blood spurts out his left nostril and the swelling starts. Shit. It fucking hurts.

Jose slides to the ground. His whole face is throbbing. This is not good. He rolls over and lays on his back, looking up at the clouds. He can taste blood in the back of his throat. His head is ringing. He’s so tired. It’s just not his day.

Hearing the sirens getting closer he thinks, WTF.

Reaching inside his jacket he pulls out a joint and puts it in his mouth. Fumbling in his other pocket for the lighter he fires it up, and the first drag is heaven.

As the sweet smoke slides in, he sucks it deep into his lungs, where he holds it a moment to let the calm envelop him. Letting it out in a rush, he watches stray wisps of smoke float away, up into the sky.

 

 

The End

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Boris slides the phone back in his pocket. “That’s weird, he’s not answering. Wonder what Eric wanted.”

“It’s probably just a phantom call.” says Natasha.

“A what?”

“You know, one of those calls your cell makes on its own. It happens when you stuff your phone in your bag or pocket and all it takes is a little bitty bump and then it starts auto-dialing.”

Boris nods, noting with satisfaction Natasha’s face is almost back to normal size and hue. She’s sitting cross legged on her bed, hunched over a fistful of UNO cards, while Boris balances on a purple exercise ball at the foot, and Ethan and Liz flank on either side. Boris wishes Sarah could be here too, but she had a shift at the hospital. He wants Natasha and Sarah to be friends.

Liz tosses down a plus four card and Boris groans dramatically before waving his extra thick handful of cards at her. “Gee Liz, how many of those can one person have. I can barely hold the damned cards I have already.” He picks up the four cards and tosses down a green change direction card.

Liz laughs and throws down a blue change direction card. Boris wails “Argghhh” and counters with a yellow change direction card.

“No, no, not yellow!” squeals Liz.

“Mwah hahaha” chortles Boris. “Oh yeah… yelloooow rocks!”

Natasha asks Ethan, “Think we’ll ever get a chance to play again?”

“Eventually, when those two get tired of out-evilling each other.” Ethan frowns and gets up and goes to the window, leaning on the sill.

“What is it?” asks Natasha, suddenly pale.

“Sirens.”

The others crowd around, cards forgotten on the bed. Ethan steps back to cede Natasha the best view of the police cars coming up the road.

“What’s happening?” asks Natasha. Boris reaches over and squeezes her hand.

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Jake climbs out from under the rough lean-to of branches he’s assembled to create the ‘hide’ he set up so he could photograph wildlife. The problem is that all the wild things took off when that girl screamed. He’s been dead still for probably ten minutes and there hasn’t been any sign of anything since.

But it’s just occurred to Jake that it might be another attack happening out there.

Right Now.

After all they never did catch the real rapist.

Jake starts back along the deer trail he followed to get to this spot. He’s pretty sure the scream came from this direction. The more he thinks about it, the more sure he is that that prick is actually attacking someone out there.

And the creep didn’t just rape Natasha, he beat the shit out of her too. Jake knows very well that he himself is not a big powerful guy. If he goes over there and tries to confront the rapist he could just as easily get beaten to a pulp.

Wouldn’t it be smarter, not to mention a better use of resources, simply to call the police? It would be a heck of a lot safer to get out of the woods and back to the Res where he can find help.

Somebody tough like Boris.

Until it hits him that might be Krystal getting attacked. Jake starts moving faster.

Then he starts to run.

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Jose looks down at Barbie’s form sprawled loosely on the muddy ground. She doesn’t look like much. He drops her stuff in the dirt and takes a seat on the stump. Feeling the stirrings of excitement. He lights a joint and watches her. He wants to take his time this time. Savor it.

He watches her breast rise and fall. Her breathing is regular. Bit of bruising on her neck, but nothing too bad. Mud in her hair. She’d hate that the most. Hell, she got off a lot easier than that red headed girl, and it was really Barbie he should have pounded that day.

He watches the smoke twist and writhe as it drifts upward, thinking that he can still walk away. Maybe she’d go to the cops. Maybe not though.

He looks at her face pressed in the mud. Clothes disheveled. Little bit of drool pooling in the corner of her mouth. This is the girl that’s had him tied up in knots for so long. So messed up he hasn’t been able to see straight for most of the semester.

He takes a deep drag and really looks at her. She was always happy to smoke his drugs but he always knew that she’d never really accept him. She’d never think he could be good enough for her. Golden girl. Princess. Cock tease. No account bitch is what she is. Doesn’t look so hot now.

He’s thinking he should maybe tie her up first. Immobilize her. He looks in her purse. All kinds of crap.

Not even dental floss. Gloves. Who knew the girl was such an idiot. Day as cold as this and her gloves are in her purse, not on her hands? Chocolate. Gum wrappers. Pantyhose? She’s wearing pantyhose why does she have more in her bag?

And the make up. Holy shit. The girl has a beauty parlor’s worth of crap in here. Perfume, paints, who knows what all these tubes and bottles are. Maybe when all the crap comes off she’s really a dog?

Thick wallet. Let the wallet go. Don’t touch it. He’s no fucking thief, no way. He upends the purse and watches with satisfaction as the wallet bounces and everything else spills out all over the ground. Tubes scattering, bottles bouncing, keys, a metal disk rolls away into a clump of dead wildflowers. Who gives a shit. He’s wearing his gloves. He’s no fool.

In fact, it’s a good thing he found out what an airhead this one was. Just think, he might have married the bitch and been stuck with her his whole life. She’s probably not even a real blonde like that Krystal. No way Jose. He grins to himself as he picks up her laptop bag, rifling though it. He drops the notebook computer into the dirt and pulls out the cables.

These ought to work.

Kneeling by her head, he grabs her under her armpits and drags her over to a sturdy young sapling at the edge of the little clearing. He wraps the power cord around one of Barbie’s wrists and then pulls her cold hand above her head. He looks at her face. Yeah, she’s still breathing. Just cold.

Stupid girl not to wear her gloves. He wraps the middle of the cord around a sapling and then pulls up her other wrist so he can bind it to the end. He gets up and goes back to the pile of girl crap laying beside the stump. He picks up the gloves, admiring the softness of the leather. Too small for him, for sure, but he thinks they might make a great gag. Keep her from making noise.

He looks over at her, with her arms stretched over her head like that, she’s certainly appealing. The coat is open, and the fabric of her dress is some kind of slippery shit. Doesn’t look warm. And look at those nipples poking up against the fabric. He reaches for the pantyhose, and carries it back to his dream girl. He runs his gloved finger along her lower lip and she shudders a little.

Tucking his finger into her mouth he pulls her jaw down and starts to push a glove into her open mouth when she spasms and her teeth clamp shut like a trap. Jesus, she almost bit his finger. He tries to open her mouth again but her eyes open.

Barbie’s icy blue eyes look at him.

“Jose, what…” she tries to sit up and she realizes that her wrists are bound. “Come on Jose, this isn’t a very good game. How about you untie me and we pretend none of this ever happened.”

“This isn’t a game Barbie.”

“Look, I didn’t mean to … give you the wrong idea, Lead you on, whatever. Jose. I really like you, I’ve always really liked you, it’s just, just, I’m just not ready to settle down. That’s all. I don’t want to end up married too young, that’s all.”

Jose crouches beside her. “You’ve played me all along. And then you just dump me like garbage. Is that what you think I am? Garbage?”

“No, of course not. I think you’re a great guy. Don’t you realize how much I like you? It’s not you that’s the problem, it’s me. Come on Jose, just help me up and we can start again, okay. Go get a cup of coffee. Sit down together and really talk about stuff, you know?”

“I think it’s too late for that.”

“Jose, come on, let’s give it a rest. Just untie me and….”

“And what?” asks Jose. “You’ll be my friend? No, Barbie, you were never my friend.”

“I promise I….”

Jose cuts her short with a short sharp blow to her midriff. As she gasps for air he stuffs the gloves into her mouth. She squirms as her breath comes back, trying to spit the gloves out while he in turn struggles to get the pantyhose tied around her head to hold the gloves in.

Barbie is wriggling sideways and pulling her knees up.

Jose realizes she’s trying to get her feet under her so she can stand. No way he’s letting her off that easy.

No way.

In a smooth motion he lets go the pantyhose ends and slams his palms squarely on her breasts. Shocked at the suddenness of the change in attack Barbie even stops trying to spit out the gloves for a moment, and Jose swings his leg over to straddle her.

Jose has been worried that he might not be able to get it up since his failure with Mouse, but his erection is enormous. Breathless again from his weight on her stomach, Barbie looks up at him in supplication. Now she knows his power.

With her pinned down he’s finally free to tie the god damn pantyhose. He can feel her subside as she realizes how helpless she actually is. Good. Oh, he thinks, this is so much better than the red head. The blonde goddess yields to him. What a rush.

He’s on fire, so he pulls his jacket off and casts it aside, then reaches down to unbutton her shiny blouse.

But the blouse is slippery, especially with gloves on, there is no way. Fuck it. Jose grabs the fabric and gives it a mighty yank.

Buttons pop off and roll away in the dirt. The blouse fabric slithers down her sides and out of his way, revealing a lacy little bra barely covering those amazing breasts that makes his heart race.

He bends down and rests his chest on hers in a parody of a hug as he forces his hands underneath her to unfasten the bra. He can feel her panting under him as her breast rises and falls, throbbing against his chest.

The snap gives and he’s about to sit back up when he feels an enormous searing pain in his shoulder, as if it’s on fire. He sits up and releases an agonized groan when the full load of pain hits. Glancing down he sees one of the gloves in the dirt, but the other one, now bloody, is still in her mouth.

She bit him.

Well, no more mister nice guy.

He rears back and punches her in the face.

He can feel the cheek bone give way and he smiles as her eyes flutter and roll back in her head. Jesus God he is dripping blood from his shoulder. First things first.

He needs to stop the blood. He looks at the pantyhose and decides they’ll have to do.

Jose pulls the damned pantyhose out from under her head again. After all the work to get it there in the first place.

Jose presses the big part against the ragged bite she’s ripped out of his shoulder then struggles to wind the legs around his arm. Although awkward to do with one hand he manages a rough knot and pulls it together by pulling one panty hose leg taut with his hand, the other with his teeth. Difficult but possible. This is starting to be more trouble than it’s worth.

He hits her in the face again.

That feels good.

Jose looks at the pathetic bra and grabs it but the damn thing doesn’t rip open, It stretches, He lets it go and it makes a satisfying sling shot thwapping sound as it snaps back against her skin. Jose can feel her body heat warming him where he straddles her. His excitement is rising as he punches her in the breast.

Again.

And again.

Suddenly he is hitting, beating, pummeling, bashing, striking, punching, slapping, rapping, pounding…

Blood is mixing with mud in the golden hair and he begins to sob quietly in counterpoint to the punches he’s delivering.
Why did she make him do this, he wonders.

She should have loved him and not been so selfish, he thinks, not for the first time.

Suddenly Jose feels strong hands grabbing his shoulders and pulling him backward off of Barbie.

As Jose is yanked to his feet the fingers connect with the bitten shoulder and Jose howls in agony. He whirls on his attacker with raised fists until he sees it’s Eric.

He relaxes and shakes his head. “Gee man, I almost took your head off. Don’t sneak up on me like that.”

Eric stares at Jose. “What are you doing?”

Jose shrugs, “You know Barbie has been giving me trouble. You can’t just let women stamp all over your heart, man. I mean after what Elsie did I think you can appreciate where I’m coming from here. We’ve just been working it out. You know how it is.”

Eric looks down at the twisted still form laying bound to the tree. The left side of her face is mush, and Eric can see that blood has been steadily oozing out of her ear for some time, forming a large puddle around her head.

Barbie’s bright blonde hair appears scarlet at the ends.

Eric kneels down beside her, looking for a flicker in her eyes, or the rise and fall of her chest. He feels for a pulse, but there isn’t any.

“Hey now,” Jose tells him, “Get your own girl, Eric. This one’s mine.”

“Jose,” Eric stands up and stares at him. “She’s dead.”

Jose shakes his head. “No, she’s just a little pissed off at me. The bitch is just punishing me is all. That’s one of the things we have to work out.”

Jose looks up at the sound of twigs breaking and leaves crackling and smiles.

“Hey Eric, there’s your girlfriend. Why don’t the two of you just run along and leave Barbie and me to work things out.”

Eric turns to see Amelia and Mouse pushing their way through the brush. Amelia and Eric make eye contact and Eric tries to signal her away but Mouse sees Jose and calls out, “Hey, Jose.”

But Mouse stops in mid stride as she takes in the bloody scratches on Jose’s face and Barbie’s limp form tied to the tree at his feet. Mouse lets out a blood curdling scream that splits the afternoon and seems to snap Jose out of his daze.

Jose tries to go around Eric, and although stunned by what he’s found, Eric holds up his hands, shoving his friend’s chest.

“What have you done? Jesus, Jose, you can’t just…”

But Jose pushes back. Eric stumbles backward, tripping over a tree root then falling down to end up sitting in the mud.

Jose ignores Eric, who stares stupidly up at him, Mouse weeping like a baby and Amelia dialing her cellphone.

Jose realizes there is only one course of action, so he scoops Barbie’s car keys off the ground. Fuck it, she won’t mind.

Since the students are ranged between him and the walkway, Jose opts for the path of least resistance and plunges the other way, into the underbrush. The woods gotta be easier than fighting his way through the assholes. Gotta get the car and take off.

Amelia watches him go, and she tells the police dispatcher where they are and that there’s a dead student here in the woods. Eric pulls himself to his feet and stumbles toward the girls. Mouse isn’t screaming any more but she’s crying. He pulls her into a hug.

Eric asks Amelia, “You called the cops?”

Amelia nods, “Yeah, now I’m calling the campus cops.”

“Okay, I’ll gonna call Boris.” While still cradling Mouse with one arm, Eric pulls out his cell with the other and fumbles one handed with the buttons.

“No.” Amelia says, “Don’t do that Eric.”

“I know you like Jose, but he’s gotta be stopped.”

“Not anymore. You think I give a shit about that rat bastard murderer Jose? He’s gotta be stopped but not by Boris.” Amelia starts toward him. “What do you think Bo would do if he caught the guy?”

“Oh shit. You’re right.” Eric disconnects, putting the phone away.

“We’ve been living with a monster.” Amelia shudders.

Eric looks stricken. “I can’t believe… that I could even know somebody who’d do this…”

“Maybe she’s just hurt…” says Mouse, but Eric emphatically shakes his head. Mouse looks at Barbie’s unnaturally still form in disbelief. “Are you sure?

Eric nods miserably. “Yeah, Mouse. I’m sure.”

Mouse starts wailing again, and Eric puts his hands on Mouse’s shoulders. “Hey Mouse, come on. Let’s get back to the path and wait for help to come.”

Amelia takes her hand. “Yeah. We have to go wait for them, so she doesn’t have to … to stay here.”

Mouse nods and pulls a handkerchief out of her pocket and scrubs her face with it, then follows Amelia. Mouse says, “Barbie is, Barbie was… she was so full of life always, you know?”

Eric looks at Barbie again, still trying to believe it himself. He tears his eyes away and follows his friends. They are all careful not to look back. Mouse snuffles as they struggle over the uneven mushy ground. “How could Jose do that? He said he loved her.”

“I don’t know Mouse. I guess he’s the rapist too.”

Mouse blanches, thinking about the time she spent with Jose and their one night stand.

But then Mouse hands Eric her handkerchief because he is weeping too.

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