Excerpt: Strange Are the Ways

From Chapter Three:

“That frown don’t look right on a pretty girl like you,” a voice chirped up. Cara looked over to the edge of the courtyard where a guy in filthy clothes was watching her. He smiled a toothless grin, and his green eyes were bright.

“Excuse me?” She turned to face him.

“You should smile, girl. Ain’t nothin’ in the world deserves a frown like that on a beautiful day like today.” His cheeks were smudged with dirt, and he wore and old tuque that looked like it’d matched his eyes ages ago. The style was simple, and reminded her of the ones the soldiers used to wear. He raised a greasy hand and pointed a grime-coated finger into the air. “Would you just look at that sun? Can’t beat that.”

“Sometimes even a bright sunshiny day doesn’t make it all better. It just lights the problems up so you can see them better.”

“Oh?” He raised a bushy eyebrow, still smiling at her. “What so bad that it’s got you scowling so?”

“I’m about to lose my house.”

He laughed, a wheezing sound that made her want to check his lungs. He slapped his greasy hand against his chest. “It’s ain’t so bad, girl. Take it from one who has been there and knows.”

She blinked, and then looked past his shoulder to where a sleeping bad and filthy bundle of clothes were stacked behind him. Before she could stop it , and smiled pulled up the corner of her lips and she chuckled. “Yeah, I guess you do.”

“There you are, girl. Told ya.” He leaned back and slapped his knee, laughing the wheezy laugh again. “Now don’t you feel better?”

“Yeah, actually I do.” She smiled, feeling lighter than she had a moment ago. She looked for hid pay port as she dug her credstick back out of her purse. “Thanks for that, really.”

“And thanks to you, Pretty Miss,” he said as she knelt down to make the transfer.

Then his face froze, the green eyes widening as a splotch of red began to grow in the centre of the already stained plaid shit. He looked down at his chest as Cara dropped her credstick and her hands dug a handkerchief out of her purse. She pressed it against the small hole in his chest that was spurting thick blood out with every heartbeat. The hole was dead centre, a kill shot. His body slumped forward into her arms, the bright eyes dull and glassy, completely empty.