The Wilds (Reign and Ruin 1) Read Free Page A

expression as he scurried into the
apartment and down the hall. I hurried after him into the front
room, where he was already bending carefully over my uncle's
body.
    "He's dead."
Marty's voice was a whimper. "It's true." His knees buckled onto
the linoleum floor and his body followed in a hopeless slump over
the corpse. "He's as cold as ice."
    "No shit,
Sherlock," I said quietly. "He overdosed on your shitty drugs."
    "He wasn't with
me tonight. I . . . overslept." Marty smacked the side of his head.
" Shit . This wasn't my stash!"
    "If he wasn't
with you, where was he?"
    "I don't know.
This is bad. This is really, really bad," Marty said,
looking back at me furtively and shaking his head. "Like, you don't
know how bad."
    "I know how
bad, you moron!"
    "And he knows.
He's already waiting," Marty said softly. He stood up suddenly and
started to go through his pockets. I stared at him in disbelief.
"We need to leave."
    "And do what,
Marty? I am not going to help you hide a body, if that's what
you're suggesting. Jeez, go call the police!" I yelled. Marty shook
his head and shot me a glance that could only be classed as
condescending.
    "My dear, the
day I ask you to drop a body in the river is the day we follow that
with dinner and a movie." He continued to pull out paper receipts,
empty ounce bags, and pencil stubs. "I need a smoke."
    He finally
retrieved a cigarette from the depths of his back pocket and lit it
with a match. He inhaled like a man downing water in the desert and
sat slowly back down on the ground.
    "We're in deep
shit. Can you comprehend how deep?" he asked. "He didn't waste any
time. I've already been told to report. You need to fix this."
    I raised my
eyebrows.
    "Me? Dream on,
Marty. You sold him the drugs, you take the fall. I am not getting
involved in this."
    A laugh escaped
Marty's lip mid-exhale and his smoke came out like a cloud of dust.
"Little girl, you are in over your head whether you like it or not.
Your uncle is dead but it's a bit more complicated than signing
some papers and fighting over the family silver."
    "What do you
mean?" I asked. Marty took another drag and regarded the lifeless
body sprawled next to him. He looked about to speak, but made a
fizzing sound through his teeth and started to look around him at
the paintings. My jaw clenched shut in frustration.
    "I've never
been in your apartment sober. I don't think I've ever looked at the
walls." He shivered and glanced over at me with a grimace. "These
painting make him look like a fucking loon."
    "You're the
loon," I said.
    "These
paintings –" he continued, "I bet your uncle didn't tell you that
when he painted his dreams, he was painting a world entirely
different from yours." Marty gestured towards the walls and out the
corner of his eye watched me cross the room to the phone.
    "Look, I'm
giving you fair warning. I'm calling the police and you can just be
here when they show up to explain."
    "It wouldn't do
any good. In fact, you would be making it worse for your uncle,"
Marty cautioned.
    I groaned and
rolled my eyes. "Fuck you and your fucking cryptic threats." Quick
as a cobra, Marty jumped up and slammed his hand over the dial. I
recoiled with a gasp, dropping the receiver and backing a few feet
away.
    "You obviously
don't understand anything about who your uncle really is!" he
hissed. Marty drew his hand back to rub his palm quickly over his
buzzed head. "And here it comes. The doozy. The part where you
think I'm insane."
    A bit late for
that, I thought.
    "He's the
Painter."
    There was as
slight pause as we looked at each other in different shades of
disbelieving.
    "A Painter?" I
repeated sarcastically. 'I KNOW. Look around you."
    "No no, not a painter. The Painter. Creator of Palet and of all
existence," Marty replied reverently.
    "Palet?"
    "A world as
real and wonderful as the one you exist in so innocently now,"
Marty said with a flourish before taking a dramatic drag of a
cigarette. I stared at him in disbelief.
    "What the