Read Online Death by Facebook by Everett Peacock - Free Book Online
Authors: Everett Peacock
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Everett on the Lava
Lagers.
Dave
sat back, folded his arms and waited for the friendly insults to
stop. “No, they were scarred.” He leaned forward,
looked over to the door to make sure she was gone now and added, “I
gotta tell you guys, if we don't get outta here soon,” he
looked over at the bar stools. “We just might get a little bit
crazy too.”
Pat
stood up to begin the march to the bathrooms himself, but stopped
behind Everett. “Dave, in case you didn't notice...” he
touched the head lamp on Everett's head. “We're already there,
buddy.”
~~~
Cabin
#94 was cold inside. For some reason the maid always turned down the
heat on her way out the door. But, she never failed to pick up the
beer cans. God bless her.
Janet
was shaking so much she could barely get her key in the door lock, as
the cold mist of the cloud insisted on finding each and every
vulnerability in her clothing. Her head was freezing! It had never
been so exposed, it was like her neck had ice cubes parked all over
her skin.
Finally
the door relented and let her in. She flipped on as many lights as
she could, thinking it might warm the place up, if only with some
reassurance. It wasn't immediately working. She moved to find the
heaters, and after some time located them along the base boards.
Bending
down to turn them on finally brought on the sickness she had been
fighting now for weeks.
Rushing
to the bathroom she barely made it before vomiting yet again. She
thought she had not done this so much since she had that bout with
bulimia back in high school. Perversely enough, as she continued
throwing up she remembered what an old girlfriend had told her. Get
rid of that much beer and you are ready for some more.
Two
minutes later she had two beers and two laptops open. Then my cell
phone rang.
~~~
Sergeant
Joyce Johannson listened to the ring of Private First Class James
Madison Turner's cell phone even as sweat still streaked down the
side of her face and onto her phone. Grabbing her towel, she wiped
her face and the phone and then listened as it went to voice mail.
“ Jimmy
here, and you're not. Leave a message.”
She
was in no mood for jokes, even as she noted his clever outgoing
message. “Private First Class Turner. This is Sergeant
Johannson. You got less than 48 hours to report to Ft. Bragg. You
missed your call in last week and again this morning. Don't make me
come out there and drag your ass to Leavenworth.” She paused a
moment and changed her voice from hard-ass to a bit more friendly.
“Hope you had a good time in Hawaii. By the way, what's up
with that Facebook post about being dead?” She paused again,
and then went back to hard-ass, “You're a good soldier. Be
there!”
~~~
Janet
was full of confusion. Watching my phone ring then go to voice mail
had made her cringe even further. It had to be related to the
telegram she still had in her jacket pocket. She, for the first time
in weeks, was too nervous to drink.
The
cabin phone rang this time, nearly giving her the heart attack she
was already working up to. Immediately she picked it up. The ring
itself was worse than whatever conversation might occur.
“ Hell...hello?”
“ Hi,
this is Amy at the Front Desk. Can I speak with Private Turner
please?”
Janet
paused a moment, then consciously tried to deepen her voice a little.
“This is Turner.”
“ Great,
we see you're due to check out in the morning. I wanted to let you
know you can extend if you like.” The Front Desk clerk sounded
friendly despite such a mandatory call.
Janet
thought about that. She really had no other plans, and honestly had
not even considered her next move beyond Volcano. “Sure,”
she almost let her voice rise back up an octave. “What do you
need?
The
Front Desk clerk was easy. “Just come by and sign the credit
card slip. How many days would you like to add?”
“ Lets
make it a week,” Janet said. That should give her time to
figure out a better plan than the
Lagers.
Dave
sat back, folded his arms and waited for the friendly insults to
stop. “No, they were scarred.” He leaned forward,
looked over to the door to make sure she was gone now and added, “I
gotta tell you guys, if we don't get outta here soon,” he
looked over at the bar stools. “We just might get a little bit
crazy too.”
Pat
stood up to begin the march to the bathrooms himself, but stopped
behind Everett. “Dave, in case you didn't notice...” he
touched the head lamp on Everett's head. “We're already there,
buddy.”
~~~
Cabin
#94 was cold inside. For some reason the maid always turned down the
heat on her way out the door. But, she never failed to pick up the
beer cans. God bless her.
Janet
was shaking so much she could barely get her key in the door lock, as
the cold mist of the cloud insisted on finding each and every
vulnerability in her clothing. Her head was freezing! It had never
been so exposed, it was like her neck had ice cubes parked all over
her skin.
Finally
the door relented and let her in. She flipped on as many lights as
she could, thinking it might warm the place up, if only with some
reassurance. It wasn't immediately working. She moved to find the
heaters, and after some time located them along the base boards.
Bending
down to turn them on finally brought on the sickness she had been
fighting now for weeks.
Rushing
to the bathroom she barely made it before vomiting yet again. She
thought she had not done this so much since she had that bout with
bulimia back in high school. Perversely enough, as she continued
throwing up she remembered what an old girlfriend had told her. Get
rid of that much beer and you are ready for some more.
Two
minutes later she had two beers and two laptops open. Then my cell
phone rang.
~~~
Sergeant
Joyce Johannson listened to the ring of Private First Class James
Madison Turner's cell phone even as sweat still streaked down the
side of her face and onto her phone. Grabbing her towel, she wiped
her face and the phone and then listened as it went to voice mail.
“ Jimmy
here, and you're not. Leave a message.”
She
was in no mood for jokes, even as she noted his clever outgoing
message. “Private First Class Turner. This is Sergeant
Johannson. You got less than 48 hours to report to Ft. Bragg. You
missed your call in last week and again this morning. Don't make me
come out there and drag your ass to Leavenworth.” She paused a
moment and changed her voice from hard-ass to a bit more friendly.
“Hope you had a good time in Hawaii. By the way, what's up
with that Facebook post about being dead?” She paused again,
and then went back to hard-ass, “You're a good soldier. Be
there!”
~~~
Janet
was full of confusion. Watching my phone ring then go to voice mail
had made her cringe even further. It had to be related to the
telegram she still had in her jacket pocket. She, for the first time
in weeks, was too nervous to drink.
The
cabin phone rang this time, nearly giving her the heart attack she
was already working up to. Immediately she picked it up. The ring
itself was worse than whatever conversation might occur.
“ Hell...hello?”
“ Hi,
this is Amy at the Front Desk. Can I speak with Private Turner
please?”
Janet
paused a moment, then consciously tried to deepen her voice a little.
“This is Turner.”
“ Great,
we see you're due to check out in the morning. I wanted to let you
know you can extend if you like.” The Front Desk clerk sounded
friendly despite such a mandatory call.
Janet
thought about that. She really had no other plans, and honestly had
not even considered her next move beyond Volcano. “Sure,”
she almost let her voice rise back up an octave. “What do you
need?
The
Front Desk clerk was easy. “Just come by and sign the credit
card slip. How many days would you like to add?”
“ Lets
make it a week,” Janet said. That should give her time to
figure out a better plan than the
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