Part 4 of 6
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In the fourth chapter of our current serialization, Ruby attempts a quiet exit, as Linda makes it clear where she stands.
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061 - Ruby Departed: Utopia, Part 4 of 6
This week's episodes are brought to you by Mr. Blogg's "Tepid Ride." Pummeling universal stupidity into submission, one post at a time. Find it at emj2k.wordpress.com. [Music] Sunday is gloomy, my hours are stumbled. Here is the shadows I live with are stumbled. [Music] Flashpulp is an experiment in broadcasting fresh pulp stories in the modern age. Three to ten minutes of fiction brought to you Monday, Wednesday, and Friday evenings. In the fourth chapter of our current serialization, Ruby attempts a quiet exit as Linda makes it clear where she stands. Ruby departed, utopia, part four of six. Written by J.R.D. Skinner, art and narration by Opoponix, an audio produced by Jessica May. [Music] July 8th, 9.46 am. I'm gonna miss this ugly clock. I thought I'd be fine last night, but around 2 am, I realized I wasn't going to get any sleep. Moved some stuff in front of the door, funny, it would have been enough to stop a pile of rotors, but I wasn't feeling any better. Ended up moving it all back, then napping with my spine against the entrance and Bethany in my lap. I kept wondering if maybe Linda was some crazed meth-head with a secret stash. I couldn't help but think about what would happen if she got into her mind to come ripping in with a chainsaw and a shotgun. At least zombies are predictable. Finally stepped in the hall once my bladder was furious enough, and after rounding the first corner, Andy came jogging by. He waved in past, carrying on with his usual morning routine. It seemed really anticlimactic after a night of freaking out. There are only two bathrooms, amends and a ladies, and they basically look like the change areas at the Y. I didn't hear Linda enter, but as I came out of the stall, she was standing at the sink. "Good morning," I said, trying to make it look like I wasn't reaching into my pocket to unfold my little knife. "Good morning," she replied, her hands never ceasing to flutter about her hair. "Maybe it's been too long since I've had a serious type discussion with someone, but I certainly had no patience for dancing around." "I got your note," I said. Her face went from faked, "I don't know what you're talking about," to surprised, to acceptance. "You've no idea what you've gotten yourself into. You should just go." As she spoke, she turned back to the mirror, and capping her thick red lipstick. "I don't want to overstay my welcome, certainly, but I do appreciate a little more direct conversation." "Have you ever noticed how many security cameras there are in here?" "I had, actually." Andy spends a lot of time watching them. He used to like it when I'd surprise him with a dance. She trailed off, and the meth idea came back to me. As she spoke, she brushed back her hair, and I noticed that one of her lips was fatter than the other. "Did Andy?" I started to say, but she cut me off. "He's mine." She popped her lips to ensure the shading was even. "Yeah, but she cut me off again." "Ever wonder why the north and south doors are always locked?" I had, and when I'd asked Andy, he had told me they were emergency surface accesses, and that he didn't want random people wandering in. I hadn't thought much about it since. "Why? What?" a third interruption, but this time it came from the hallway. We both stepped out, and there was Leatherhead, traveling the circular hall on a little dirt bike I'd seen stored in the gym area. He stopped and gave me a look, but before he could say anything, Linda hopped on, wrapping her hands around his waist. They lapped me three times on the way back. 1.24 pm. Getting hungry, but I'm not feeling terribly great about leaving things sitting here in my room. It looked weird if I was wandering the halls with Bethany in my hands, though. 137. I need to leave. 153. All the doors are locked. Crap, crap, crap. There's nowhere to go. 201. Okay, I need to get my thoughts in order. Once the bike noises had stopped and my stomach could no longer take it, I went out into the hallway. It was quiet. On the way, I noticed one of the doors was a jar. There's a definite hotel feeling to the rooms here, and I knew it wasn't Andy and Linda's, so I went inside. It was pretty much exactly like my own Boudoir, but they'd obviously been using this one for storage. It was filled with pads, binders, manuals, even some signage. Most of it had a big blue "K" on it, and the binders were all labeled things like "cryos, guidelines for emergency medical response." Nothing looked terribly useful, so I backed out and finished the walk. The cafeteria area was empty, but there was a tray of splattered garlic spare ribs on the floor, and another tray unfinished on the table. I guessed that Linda and Andy had started another fight, then decided to finish it in their room. I considered grabbing a bunch of stuff, jamming in my bag, then making for the stairwells, but it didn't seem honest. I rammed a double handful of Cheerios Dan my gullet, washing the crumbs away with more bottled water. Everything seemed normal as I walked back. I collected my things. I was going to knock on their door and let them know that it was probably best if I just went, and to see if I could finagle some sort of ride a little way south. But while I was walking there, I found Linda in the middle of the hallway. She hadn't been there a second ago. She was missing a leg. There was a sea of blood between her and one of the locked stairwells, but the door was half open. I think she... was that Andy in the hall? [music] FlashPulp is presented by http colon slash slash Skinner dot FM. The audio and text formats of FlashPulp are released under the Canadian Creative Commons attribution non-commercial 2.5 license. [music] [music]