Jane woke up late. It was nearly noon, and her digital alarm clock had been buzzing obnoxiously for hours by that point. There was no point in trying to make it to work. That old prick Strangways had probably found someone else to come in and run the cash register. Besides, when she was late, he always deducted half a day’s salary if she showed up before noon and a full day if she showed up after. There was no way in hell it was legal, but he somehow got away with it. She was not so eager to ring up random snack foods and drive away teenagers trying to buy cigarettes that she was going to subject herself to the indignity of having to listen to one of his lectures on work ethic just to go without pay.
No, instead she decided she would bother Henry. It was probably his fault that she slept in late, and she knew he wasn’t working that day. They lived on the same block, so no one living near the gas station was going to see her and ruin whatever excuse she came up with to explain her absence.
After pulling herself out of bed, Jane threw on her old, frayed Opah Opossums t-shirt, a pair of sweatpants, and some well-worn tennis shoes. Like always, she grabbed her purse, then opened up the drawer of her bedside table to get one last item.
She paused as she stared at the little handgun that sat in the middle of the drawer, accompanied by a box of ammunition on one side and a cleaning kit on the other. It was not her first gun. That distinction belonged to the .38 revolver her mother had left behind when she passed. She couldn’t say it was her favorite either. She kept a set of hunting rifles—some inherited, some gifted, and some purchased—in a cabinet in the living room. Pressed, she would definitely say that she favored one of them, possibly the antique duck gun that hardly fit in the thing at all. Even so, the .22 semi-automatic pistol was important to her for a specific reason: it was small enough to fit inconspicuously into her purse whenever she went to visit Henry.
Obviously, she had no fears that Henry himself would hurt her, even putting aside the fact that he was not strong enough to do so. They had known each other a very long time, and she wouldn’t have kept up a friendship with a man she suspected would ever try to cause her harm. Instead, she had purchased it a few days after they found the Princeling. In a way, it tied her to the town. Part of her had wanted to leave like Hugh. The decision to purchase it was a commitment to remain with her friends, even if it meant going to their houses armed.
Now, though, they were making new plans. The disgusting monster Henry dug out of the muck looked quite different from the oddly alluring creature that currently lived with him. It turned out to be playful and easily amused. It was amazing to think they were actually planning to go out to sea with the thing!
Jane left the pistol in the drawer when she closed it. Instead, she made her way to the kitchen to get a pair of gifts for the men (or man—she still wasn’t sure what to consider the Princeling) she was going to visit. A few minutes later, she was knocking on Henry’s door.
“Who’s there?” a nervous voice asked, sounding far away.
“It’s me!”
“Jane? Let yourself in! I’m a little… uh… well, I’m a little tied up.”
Raising a brow, Jane reached into her purse and retrieved her keyring. After being hospitalized with a pretty bad fever, Henry had copies made for his tiny group of co-conspirators, lest the Princeling ever go hungry and end up wandering town looking for food. Craig down at the hardware store was hardly a skilled locksmith, however, and the keys didn’t turn out quite as perfect as the original. Jane was forced to jiggle it in the lock a bit to get the damned door to open.
Once inside, Jane let out a cough at the thick smoke coming from the kitchen. She rushed inside, immediately finding the source and pulling the charred remains of the eggs off the stove before turning it off.
“Shit, Henry! Are you trying to bur—” She didn’t finish the sentence, instead staring at the unmoving, unblinking monster currently holding her friend by the chin.