Page 69 of False Idols

“Of course, I understand after what happened here,” I tell them and make a show of looking around the area like I’m worried The Reaper might come back. “Have you heard anything about him?” I ask.

The woman with the clipboard holds up one hand and shakes her head. “We cannot officially release any information on last night’s events or what might have happened here.”

The cop that talked to me snorts. “Official statements, fuck that. He’s got a right to know, with what he went through because of those psychos.”

Psychos. He means Nevaeh and The Reaper but I play stupid. For now, I’m fine letting them think I’ve got nothing to do with Nevaeh.

“What happened?” I ask him before the woman can stop me.

He jerks his chin at me and waves me over. “The fucking Reaper was here, Beau. In the flesh and that little bitch that did you wrong took him on.”

My stomach drops. Nevaeh can’t fucking fight. “What do you mean took him on? How is she?”

“She’s fine. Couple bumps and bruises. A cut here and there, but nothing she can’t walk off. Kinda surprised on that one. She’s not that big, you know?”

I nod and the other cop laughs. “Big enough to lay out Jason. Man, that door opened and BAM!” He hits his hand against the other with another laugh. “She knocked that fucker out stone cold.”

“Gotta hand it to her, she’s got a lot of power in that body of hers,” he says and gives the other cop a knowing look while the woman clutches the clipboard to her chest and looks uncomfortable. I hear what they’re not saying about Nevaeh’s body. These men could be her father, easily, but it doesn’t matter to them.

“Nevaeh knocked out a cop?” I interrupt. I don’t want these fuckfaces talking about Nevaeh. If they do, I'll end up doing what I did to Jordan to them. I really don’t have the time for that shit today.

The cop chuckles and nods. “Yeah with an axe. She was going to split him in two if we hadn’t been there to stop her. Isn’t that right?” he asks the other cop.

“Shoulda seen her. She was crazed. I thought she was completely out of it for a second till she dropped the axe. That bitch-”

The woman clears her throat. “She went through something very traumatic. It’s normal.”

They both fall silent at that. Whatever is going on here on campus isn’t entirely police run. I bet the woman is a campus advocate. Whoever she is, her words bring the cops back into line and they stand a little straighter when they say, “Of course. Anyone would have done the same.”

“I appreciate the info, but I won’t take up anymore of your time today,” I tell them and nod at the door. “I’ve just got to ask my friend about the homework. Won’t take but a minute.”

The woman nods at me and raises her pen to write. “We’re keeping track of that today too. Please know that any of the information we take today won’t be shared with anyone else.”

“Unless there’s a murder and you’re a suspect,” the first cop says with a laugh. I give him a tight smile while the woman glares at him.

“Hey, you won’t catch me a second time,” I deadpan, because I mean that. I was innocent the first time they brought me in and now that I’m an actual killer, I have zero plans to let the Bloom PD bring me in.

The cops burst into laughter while the woman stays silent. “Good one, man.” I get clapped on the back and shoved towards the door. “You’re a riot, Beau. Tell your old man, Glen said hey.”

“You got it, Officer.”

“Glen,” he corrects, like I know who he is.

“Glen,” I repeat back so he lets me the fuck go. I make it one step inside the door before the woman calls out to me.

“Wait! What friend are you seeing today?” she asks, pen ready to write my answer down. I could lie, but I don’t. There’s no need.

“Sunny. Her name is Sunny.”

26

NEVAEH

If anyone were to make a list of places you should probably avoid after a run in with a serial killing rapist it would probably have a graveyard on it. I look around and take in the bright sunshine and crisp morning air. A cardinal swoops by and lands on a headstone nearby with a flutter of wings. It’s idyllic here. Quiet. The graveyard is the oldest in Bloom. It was founded in 1803 with its first soul interred the day of Bloom’s founding when they died from being stabbed to death by another settler.

It’s fitting that Bloom’s first murder victim is buried here where so many of The Reapers victims have been put to rest. Five of them, to be exact, are in the newer parts of the cemetery. It’s not something I would want to tell anyone about, but it’s a factoid every conspiracy theorist in town likes to trot out for visitors. I shield my eyes and look off to my left. That grave doesn’t have a headstone, but it does have a plaque the town put there when I was in elementary school. It always felt like a morbid thing to memorialize, but it’s not like my town is known for shit other than murder and death. Makes sense that a soul as twisted as The Reaper would choose it as its hunting ground.

Murder and pain is ingrained into Bloom, right down to its founding. Blood soaked the ground from day one here. What else were we expecting to come to us with that in our DNA?

---