Along the River of Flesh by Kristopher Triana

Author:Kristopher Triana [Triana, Kristopher]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Horror
Publisher: Bad Dream Books
Published: 2023-08-01T05:00:00+00:00

TWENTY

Her name was June. That was the only information she was willing to give Keith regarding her identity. She looked fresh out of high school and yet weathered somehow, like she’d graduated in handcuffs. Keith knew a runaway when he saw one. Worn backpack, messy hair, black clothes, a hint of body odor. June may as well have had “halfway house” stamped on her forehead. He’d seen countless other girls just like her. They were never in short supply.

“So, what’re you doing out here anyway?” he asked, though he had an idea what her answer might be.

June looked him in the eyes, which Keith respected. She had a face like Billie Eilish—attractive yet somehow bitchy, like those magazine models that never smiled. It was the kind of face Keith would like to slap, though not out of anger. Not yet.

“That’s my business,” she said.

They were walking along the trail again. Gary Chatmon’s whining about turning back was on a temporary hold now that June had arrived. The private dick seemed to have delusions about what it meant to be a good man. He could leave Keith out here alone, but not the girl.

“I think I know exactly why you’re out here,” Keith explained to her.

The river grew louder as they descended toward the shoreline, a natural static that echoed like the remnants of a bad dream.

“You keep thinkin’ that,” June said.

She had the same snooty air about her that all halfway decent-looking females of her generation did. It was as if they fed off rejecting men even when they weren’t being hit on. Was it sheer arrogance or an elaborate cock tease? Either way, it boiled Keith’s blood, making him want to smack her pretty, little face even more.

“You’re a groupie, ain’t ya?” he asked, more statement than question.

She huffed.

Typical young cunt, Keith thought.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” he asked.

June just kept walking. “Whatever.”

“No. Not ‘whatever’. You’re one of these serial killer groupies. Obsessed with true crime cases, am I right? Listen to all your podcasts. Tally up your favorite murderers like you’re collecting baseball cards.”

Gary tried to interject. “Keith…”

“What?” Keith shrugged. “She’s not denying it.”

June smirked, refusing to look at him, but she rubbed her neck, a sure sign of irritation. A twitchy feeling overcame Keith’s extremities.

“Would you like to know what Edmund Cox does with his groupies?” he asked her.

June spun to face Keith. “He fucks them and dismembers them. Is that what you’re gonna say? I told you I know who he is—what he is.”

“I’ll bet you do. Let’s see what’s in that backpack.”

“Go fuck yourself.”

Keith snickered. Again, Gary tried to make peace, but Keith ignored him. So did June.

“You’ve no cause to search me,” she said.

“Your lawyer ain’t out here, honey,” Keith told her. “I’m looking for a killer and I need to know you’re not working with him. Now open that bag.”

“I said, go fuck yourself!”

She hurried on but Keith stepped in front of her. “Listen up, little girl. Whatever rules and regulations you think you know so well—they don’t apply out here.

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