Page 79 of Death and Do-Overs

“Yeah, but—” She started.

“So you deserve a discount,” I said.

“Oh.” Imogen beamed. “I always appreciate a good deal.”

“Sure, right,” Caspian said, clearly flustered.

For someone of such an immense stature, he was clearly nervous about the two of us, who happened to be tiny by comparison. It seemed Caspian wasn’t dumb.

Caspian bagged up Imogen’s purchases and accepted her money, all the while watching me.

With that distraction over with, I jumped back into my interrogation.

“Why didn’t you tell me you’d seen me in Nevermore before, Caspian?” I asked.

“Shouldn’t you know where you’ve been, Marnie?” He took a step backward.

“I know my clone was here. And I know you’re hiding the truth from me,” I said.

“I don’t…people don’t ask questions in Nevermore. No one likes the answers they find here.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Imogen asked. “Sounds ominous.”

Yes, it did.

“What happened to the other me?” I asked. “You know something.”

“I don’t.” Caspian lifted his hands in defense and took another step back. “I swear.”

“Hey, Cas, I need help opening this peanut butter. The jar is stuck like you left your tentacle juice in the grooves again.”

A bubble of laughter burst from Imogen’s lips. With the wordstentacle juicelingering in the air, I couldn’t blame her.

“Cas?” A man approached Caspian from behind.

The man had buzzed salt-and-pepper hair, round bare cheeks, and dice-sized and shaped eyebrows. Recognition smacked the air right out of my chest.

This man was Guy Jones.

“Run,”Caspian said.

Guy’s lips curled into an O. He squeezed the plastic peanut butter jar so hard the lid popped off. Then he twisted on his heel, abandoning the jar all together. The jar clattered to the floor and cracked.

Guy lunged downward, putting his hands on the floor.

He raced back up the stairson all fours.

It reminded me of those night vision cryptid videos where one idiot records their other idiot friend loping around like an animal in the dark to pretend they’ve captured evidence of a rare monster. Why anyone would choose to behave this way while fleeing, I had no idea.

Caspian reached for the shotgun stashed along the back wall. I shoved him the other direction and climbed over the counter.

“Ahh,” Imogen squealed, as she climbed after me.

“Guard him,” I told her and gestured toward Caspian as I raced toward the stairs.

Imogen said, “Look, octopus guy, you have to be good or you won’t like what I have to do to you.”

Her words faded as I tore up the stairs, adrenaline surging through my veins. I reached the top of the stairs, my eyes locking onto the back of the fleeing suspect. Guy weaved through piles of junk. He knocked over a cardboard box and sent a cascade of papers under my feet.

---