And here it is, the last chapter. I hope you've enjoyed the story. And now it is available to you, all of it, right in time for the start of NaNoWriMo.
I'm very excited for my "nano" project this year. A story that just popped into my head about a month ago, superseding every other story idea I'd been working on. And this one promises to be something special.
For my NanoPrep, I've actually been, um... *cough* writing ahead. And I'm glad I did. The first thing that happened was I ran into all sorts of issues surrounding what voice I wanted to use (first person? Third person? Omniscient or limited?) and present-vs.-future tense. Changing these details changed the story from a cutesy first-person adventure tail into something a little deeper. But you lose a very personal, emotional layer when you go Third. But you can't have it all.
Or can you!
Suddenly, my story has been jumping around. Diary entries. Newspaper clippings. Switching from present day to the past to visions to lessons... it's a beautiful mess. But, if I can do it correctly, it should all boil together perfectly into something better than I ever thought I could write. I'm being open-minded with this one. I am writing with abandon.
And, yes, I started early, because pretty much the whole last week of November is shot to hell by Thanksgiving and family obligations. So, yeah. Meh. I decided it's not "cheating" to start your Nano early... it's writing.
Cheers and good luck to you!
LLH
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
"The Demented Non-Life of Jefferson Davis"
By L.L. Heberlein
(copyright 2015, all rights reserved)
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN:
“George, I need a drink!” I said, sitting down at my favorite bar. George poured me a big mug of coffee, and then set the carafe down next to me.
“It’s on the house, Davis.”
John pushed the carafe toward me. “No no no!” he said. “We shall pay! For we have money to spend in this fine establishment!” He put a couple bills on the counter, paying for my coffee and his and Lucy’s drinks. The two of them didn’t hang out at Babbitt’s much – it is an underworld bar, and until lately they were both humans. But it was open all night, and we were in need of celebration. And drinks. And maybe even some therapy.
“So, John,” I said, staring at the bills in front of us. “What will you do with your share of the money?”
“Now that Barry is paid and the power’s back on?”
“Yeah,” I said, finishing off my cup and pouring another. “What’s up next.”
“Oh, I dunno,” John said. “I was thinking about maybe expanding the business. You know, maybe hiring on an employee or two. Maybe taking on a partner.” He winked at me. “You interested?”
“Me?” I took a swig and set my cup back down. “I don’t think I’m the guy you need. I’m not really much of a detective.”
“But you’re so good at finding trouble!” John laughed.
“And I nearly got you killed,” I said.
Lucy scowled. “You DID get him killed! It’s only because I ran into that animator…”
“How did you find that woman?” I asked. Lucy flicked my ear. “Yeah, I know. Her name is Thea.”
“You know, she just appeared, almost out of nowhere,” she said, taking another dainty sip of some pink cocktail. “I still don’t understand what she did.”
“You think I’ll decay like this?” John looked down at his hands. “Or you think the embalming fluid will keep me fresh forever?”
Lucy almost threw up her cocktail. “Let’s not think about it, shall we?”
“But I have to think about it, Luce! Look at me! I mean, what the hell am I? Zombie? Ghoul? How long do I have to live like this?”
I shrugged. “Maybe a long time,” I said. “Maybe not long at all. How long do any of us have? I can tell you one thing, though. Take good care of yourself. You never know what’ll happen to you if you get a body part ripped off.”
John went wide-eyed. “What do you mean?”
I just shook my head and sipped at my coffee.
We had a nice, rather quiet rest of the evening at Babbitt’s. Lucy ordered some late-night dinner. John played pool with the vampire league, very impressed at how much better he played. For some reason, he said, his eyesight was now better than 20/20 and his muscles never fatigued. Could be he’s possessed by a demon, like me. I kept my mouth shut, though. It’s just not the sort of thing you talk about.
Me, I just watched them play pool and drank coffee. I wasn’t feeling like going home, for some reason. Maybe it was the mess I knew that waited there, or just the idea John had died, and now he was alive, and I still felt like I had to somehow explain myself to him. Whatever happened to him from here on out, I felt responsible, whether I was or not.
I thought about my chunk of the money. I thought about moving. Maybe Chicago.
Someone tapped my shoulder.
Schwartz… Eric. Dammit, I’ll never remember to get that straight. “Hello, Davis.” He was dressed down now, in a black T-shirt and tight-fitting jeans. Must be off work, I figured.
“Hello, Eric.”
“You mind if I sit for a minute,” he asked, sliding onto the stool next to me. “There’s something I want to talk to you about.”
“Sure,” I shrugged. “What’s on your mind.”
Eric looked straight ahead, toward the people playing pool, as he spoke. “I want you to come work for me.”
I swear, if I hadn’t just finished off the last of my cup, I would have spit coffee across the bar. “But you HATE me!” I said, before I could stop myself. “Sorry. Sorry. I mean, I’m sorry for being so honest, but… don’t you hate me?”
Eric smiled just a tiny crack of a smile. “I used to. You were really a pain in my ass for a while there. But the way you handled yourself tonight… holding your own against those big players… I’m not easily impressed, Davis, but I’ll say it. I was impressed.”
I tried to look stoic. It took everything I had not to smile at him. I stared, like him, straight ahead.
“What do you want me to do?”
“Stuff like tonight,” he said. “Tracking down criminals, dealing with big players. You’ll have your own suite at Purgatory, and all the new suits you could want.”
I shrugged. “I’m not sure I’m staying in town,” I said. “I feel like I need to get out of here for a while. Shit around here just got really weird.”
He stood up. “Suit yourself,” Eric said. He reached into his pocket and brought out a business card. White with angel wings on one side, black with devil horns on the other. And a phone number. “Call if you change your mind.”
I watched him walk out of the bar without so much as a glance back at me. I turned the card over a few times. Purgatory. Me, working for Schwartz. Me, one of those black-suited cronies picking up after underworld messes.
Me, working with India. Again.
I could think of worse jobs. –
THE END
No comments:
Post a Comment