22200-coverAn extract from ‘an Eye for an Eye’ by Sarah Lotz, featured in Something Wicked Issue Four

By lunchtime we still haven’t decided what to do. We’re sitting round the kitchen table, watching our coffee get colder.
“I still think we should phone the cops,” I say.
Kevin peers up at me blearily. He looks worse than usual. His face is sweaty and haggard; his eyes red-rimmed. The fag he’s trying to smoke jitters in his trembling fingers. Since we made our grisly discovery this morning, he’s puffed his way through at least half a pack of Camels.


“Did you hear me, Kev?”
“Sam, you can’t be fucking serious,” he groans. “You know we can’t call the cops.”
“Yeah, but Kev – ”
“I can just see you now,” he purses his lips, which he always does when he’s imitating me. “Hello officer,” he says in a falsetto voice, “Thanks for coming so soon, officer. Oh, and by the way, please ignore the six hundred dope plants in the spare room while you’re here.” He stubs his cigarette out on the top of a discarded can of Black Label.
“Okay, okay. Very funny.” I pause for a second. I lick my finger and smear one of his tubes of dropped ash into an ‘X’. “But where could it have come from, Kev? How could it have got here?”
“God knows.” He burps, and I’m hit with a sickening blast of last night’s alcohol.
“Nice, Kev,” I snap.
“Sorry, man.”
“Look. There’re only two of us in the flat,” I say, picking up his Zippo and flicking it into action. “One of us must’ve put it there. How could it have got there otherwise?”
“Well don’t look at me,” he says. “I was completely wasted last night. Hey…maybe the flat’s haunted, Sam. That would be cool, eh?”

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