TO: Archer Avery. FROM: Hunter Sommer. TIME: January 15th, late afternoon.
Things had been crazy, but Hunter still managed to find time to worry about her friends. Nona still wasn't answering her calls, even from the hospital, something that finally warranted further investigation. The fight with Casper almost distracted her from her 'sick' friend, supposedly bedridden.
One visit to the Garret home supplied her with more questions and no answers. Ian's car being there was strange enough. But when no one opened the door after several minutes, Hunter had no trouble (just a more than a slight discomfort in her ribs) jumping the back fence, or putting her elbow through the back patio window to gain entry. They hadn't looked good when she had last seen them. She completely considered her actions legitimate, given the circumstance.
Entrance to the Garret house didn't provide her with much. Until she descended into the basement, where she and Nona had spent countless times just hanging out, Hunter often chiding her friend and giving her tips on how to outsmart the overprotective dad pacing around a floor above them. One look at the bodies of daughter, overprotective dad, and secret boyfriend, was enough to send Hunter running back up the stairs.
She managed to hold her vomit until she ran out through the backdoor again, hunching over the side of the patio and throwing up violently into the grass. Fumbling for her phone, Hunter dialed Archer's number from memory, eyes still partially closed, trying to unsee (and unsmell) the scene from the basement. ----------
[Soon as she hears Archer pick up, Hunter intercepts him without letting him get a word in edgewise first. Her voice is hoarse.] Arch? Archer? You.. you gotta come now. The Garret house, fucking Nona, her dad-- [There's an unmistakable gagging sound, before she goes on.] They're dead, they're all fuckin' dead.