B. Johnson - Deadgirl

“Okay, it works,” I said.

Daphne sighed and tossed her purple-streaked black hair out her face. I flipped it open to answer it.

The number. I knew it right away. The text messages… the ones telling me to run, telling me to get the hell away from Abraham.

I dropped my phone. It made a loud cracking noise, bounced once, and landed on its face.

“Oh, crap,” Daphne said, looking forlornly down at my fallen phone. “Butterfingers.”

I shook my head at her, feeling panic rising.

“What? It was you? How… do you know?”

Daphne smiled an unknowable, mysterious smile.

“We’ve all got secrets, honey,” Daphne said. She raised an eyebrow, walked forward, and plucked her phone out of my hand. I goggled at her as she folded her hands behind her back and gave me an impish grin.

I closed my mouth. I thought it might be scraping the floor soon.

“Are you… like me?”

Daphne shook her head.

“Are you… like Abraham?”

She made a yuck face. A hell-no face.

“Takes all kinds, Lucy,” she said. “You think you’re the only freak out there? I’ll tell you what I am. I’m your friend. Now let’s go upstairs and see if we can’t get a pillow fight started.”

She gave me another grin and bounced out of the kitchen with her hands behind her back. I stood, rooted to the spot, trying to regain control of my motor functions. My mind spun like a top, stuffed with more questions than I had time to think about. Daphne. I couldn’t believe it. Worse. I didn’t even understand it.

I looked down and touched my cross. I felt a little spark there, still left, and I took a deep breath and drained it away. My face split into a smile.

I can do this.

I can live.

B.C. Johnson was born in 1985 in Southern California, and hasn’t relocated since. He discovered a love for telling stories at seven-years-old, though those consisted of either fabricating expansive lies, or writing mostly plagiarized stories. Between then and now, he’s worked a number of odd jobs, including machinist, lighting designer, demolitionist, sound mixer, receptionist, custodian, and museum events manager. He currently works live theater, as the guy calling cues or making the lights flash. He lives in Anaheim with his awesome fiancée, Gina, who may or may not be some kind of angel, and his half-Corgi, half-Jindo dog, Luna, (or Luna-Tuna, to her friends.) When he’s not playing video games, drumming on every surface imaginable, or spending way too much time reading tvtropes.org, you may find him writing completely not-stolen (he promises) stories.

Deadgirl is his first novel.

This eBook is licensed to the original purchaser only. It cannot be sold, shared, transferred, or given away.

Published by Cool Well Press, Inc.

270 Bellevue Avenue, 334

Newport, RI 02840

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations for reviews. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet, without the publisher’s permission and is a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines and/or imprisonment.

Deadgirl

Copyright © 2012 by B.C. Johnson

ISBN: 978-1-61877-114-8

Editor — Craig Dunn

Cover Artist — DarkAshe Graphics

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party Web sites or their content.

Published in the United States of America

First electronic publication: April 2012 by Cool Well Press, Inc.

www.coolwellpress.com