so much for the grand experiment. he’d come to redmour with the hopes of getting to know people whose experiences were completely unlike his own. he made friends, he had fun, but he had now survived two, count them, two assaults upon the innocent, and come out with nothing but trauma and a broken leg, complete with sixty-seven stitches. he’d nearly lost his best friend. he’d nearly lost his own life. he couldn’t work at redmart with his leg like this, and his camming suffered, too. more from the trauma than the injury, but what was the difference?
he had enough in his savings to move. it was one thing if these had been natural disasters and the town was just unlucky, but from his perspective it was simply a warzone pretending to be a safe haven for all. he hadn’t heard dick and or shit from anyone of authority about what happened with the vampires. everyone simply licked their wounds and moved on. he checked the news stations, and nothing outside the town reported the event. nothing local did, either. so fuck it. the great experiment was over. what friends he did make, he cherished. those he didn’t think were responsible for the massacre, that is. no vampires made that list.
he would have to cherish them from afar, however. rick was moving. he’d given his two weeks at redmart, but he wasn’t gonna stick around for the two weeks. he and matty were moving on. luckily for him, matty’s werewolf healing had him well enough to pack everything for him. rick couldn’t do anything with his bum leg. he waited outside the apartment complex, sitting on the truck bed smoking a fat blunt, sneering at anyone who came near. his moms would be disappointed, he thought. until he told them about everything that went down. all those people dead or turned, which to him seemed like the same thing. no one cared. business as usual.
it was time to take his business elsewhere.