A Fate Totally Worse Than Death Read Free Page B

room’s other television perched, likewise broken. Tortured with boredom, she began to read idly through Mrs. Witt’s mail, but found this cure worse than the cause. With a sigh, she opened her pack, pulled out
Hitchhiker from Hell
, and found her place.
    She had to flee
.
    Had to run
.
    Fast
.
    She scrambled through the trees and brambles. Whatever it was, it was coming closer. Its thick, gurgling growls shot pinpricks of fear into Stephanie
.
    Lisa was already dead
.
    And Scott
.
    The creature’s black beard was matted with their blood
.
    Why had she taken the “scenic route” to the cabin instead of the freeway? Why hadn’t she checked the gas tank first?
    â€œBecause she’s a dork,” Danielle answered aloud. She closed the book, leaned back in her chair, and found her eyes aimed at Mrs. Witt’s candy. Expecting to find the box empty by now, she reached to pull it off the shelf and was surprised by its weight. She lifted the lid—and exulted to find it was a new box, filled entirely with cherry truffles, her favorites. She popped one into her mouth, closed her eyes, then bit into its cherry heart, savoring the union of chocolate and cherry. In the midst of her ecstasy a knock sounded on the door, followed by a pause, then three more knocks.
    She licked her fingers. “I’ll get there,” she said. She placed another candy on her tongue, got up with a groan, shuffled to the door, and admitted Brooke and Tiffany.
    â€œYou remembered the special knock?” asked Brooke.
    â€œCall me Einstein,” answered Danielle. “Saves me the trouble of hiding things, like this box of
cherry truffles
.
”
Her guests’ eyes lit. “Not that Brooke wouldn’t have sniffed them out in five seconds.”
    â€œThanks a
lot,”
said Brooke.
    â€œSorry,”
Danielle replied, passing the box around. Tiffany sat in a chair. Brooke reclined on the room’s empty bed. Wordlessly, the three chewed, sucked, swallowed, and licked.
    â€œI love these,” Tiffany spoke at last, coming up for air. “Who answered our prayers?”
    â€œMust be a God after all,” said Brooke.
    â€œThen how do you explain
both
TVs in this room being broken?” posed Danielle.
    Her friends’ faces were transformed into grotesque masks of agony.
    â€œNo
TV? Talk about unfair working conditions.”
    â€œGod’s ways are beyond human understanding.”
    â€œMy little old lady’s is broken, too.”
    â€œThis Community Service is child labor.”
    â€œWe should be getting overtime for having to smell these old folks.”
    â€œAnd what about hearing their false teeth clicking?”
    â€œGet a load of the wrinkles on this one.”
    â€œI think her subscription to
Glamour
ran out.”
    â€œYeah. About sixty years ago.”
    â€œTen Avon ladies with pliers couldn’t stretch
that
skin smooth again.”
    â€œAnd what a pair of knockers.”
    â€œIf you can find ’em.”
    â€œIf mine ever get like that, shoot me.”
    â€œGladly.”
    â€œThanks a
lot.”
    â€œI’m
sorry.”
    â€œLet the meeting come to order!” boomed Danielle. “We’re supposed to be talking about Helga, not the living dead around here.” She declined the depopulated box of chocolates held out by Brooke. “Anything to report?”
    â€œGavin was definitely coming on to her?” stated Tiffany. “On Thursday? I saw him waiting outside her last class? Crunching approximately twenty breath mints?”
    â€œNot enough, in his case,” said Danielle.
    â€œI saw Jonathan hand her two pens and a ruler from his supply locker,” Brooke testified. She polished off the last of the chocolates. “I did
not
see
her
pay him a cent.”
    Tiffany, playing violently with a strand of her brown hair, strove to show no reaction to this.
    â€œI also saw her,” Brooke continued, “riding