by Hunter Shea
He tucked the flashlight under his armpit and grabbed hold of the doorknob to the front door.
“We’ll discuss this later,” he said. His eyes were flat and cold with fury.
“I don’t want you going out there with a gun, Andrew. Have you ever fired one before?”
What worried her more was her belief that brandishing a gun led to the other person taking out theirs. So far, their night stalker had been content to pitch rocks and make a lot of weird noises. Neither was going to hurt them.
What if they saw Andrew with his rifle and, sensing the stakes had risen dramatically, decided in a flash of anger to have the final word?
Kate could tell there was no stopping him. The moment he opened the door, Buttons rushed into the night.
“Buttons, get back here,” Andrew snapped.
He followed the beagle, slamming the door behind him.
The rain of rocks suddenly stopped.
Kate sat alone in the darkness, the salt of her tears stinging her lips. She no longer cared about the stalker. She was worried about Andrew and Buttons.
She heard walking, but it could have been Andrew. Buttons had stopped barking. She thought of the old dog running recklessly into the woods and getting lost – or even worse, stumbling across the stalker and being hurt.
From off in the distance, there came another “Ahoo.”
The crickets silenced.
The night went perfectly still.
The only sound in the cottage was Kate’s soft sobs.
There came a pointed click, the sound of metal against metal.
Kate held her breath.
The explosion of gunfire sounded like the end of the world.
Chapter Nineteen
Andrew sat in a hardback chair in the tiny dining room, the new Remington 783 on the table. Dawn had finally come, but he didn’t feel as if he could exhale just yet.
“I’m so sorry, honey,” he said.
Kate was on the bed, heavily sedated. After he’d come back into the house with Buttons, the pallor of her skin and look in her eyes had rocked him to his core. She’d refused to go to the hospital, insisting she just needed to make sure he was okay and to take a sedative to calm down. She had a scrip for anti-anxiety pills (if anyone had reason for anxiety, it was Kate) that she didn’t use very much. He found a pill after dumping the mason jar on the bedspread. She’d been pretty zonked out ever since.
“Huh?”
Her eyes were only half-open, the corner of her mouth slack. Thank God, she’d gotten some color back in her cheeks, though kissing her forehead a few minutes ago had told him most of that color was coming from the returning fever.
Andrew didn’t bother her, watching her eyes slowly close all the way.
Once it was light enough to see well, he was going outside…without the rifle.
Firing it last night had scared the hell out of him. He hoped that if he wasn’t now a murderer, it had frightened off the lunatic who had been harassing them for good. He’d been so goddamn angry, the whole thing was just a big, black blur. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to give a firearm to a guy with anger issues.
He hadn’t thought of getting the rifle until he spotted the firearms case at the sporting goods store the next town over. He’d stopped by to pick up a small life vest, realizing that if he drowned, there was no one left to properly care for Kate. Ida would have been proud of his very grown-up decision.
And then he’d gone and done something to erase that pride.
Perhaps he was being overly paranoid, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that their stalker was indeed a man and quite possibly nuttier than a pecan pie. Once he found out how easy it was to get a rifle (a few hundred dollars and a background check that took all of fifteen minutes), he figured the small investment was worth some peace of mind. The burly man running the rifle department took the time to show him how to load it, carefully going over all the bells and whistles (including a lot on the attached scope, something he was pretty sure he’d never use) and advising him to learn the owner’s manual by heart. Andrew guessed it was easy to see he was no experienced hunter. The man never questioned his reason for buying the rifle, something he’d worried about the entire time.
Little had he known he’d be firing it less than twelve hours later.
He knew Kate wanted to give him holy hell about it, but that would have to come later. He’d nearly scared her to death when he fired off a warning shot.
“Please don’t tell me you shot someone,” she’d said when he came back inside, his hands shaking uncontrollably.
“No. No. I just wanted him to know I wasn’t messing around anymore. I shot it into the air.”
The truth was, the more he thought about it, the less certain he was that he’d pointed the muzzle straight up into the sky. He’d been so amped up, he thought he might have shot straight into the woods. There was no reason to tell Kate that. He’d already done enough damage.
All I wanted to do was save her from all this anxiety, and I just made it worse. Why the hell did I shoot? The guy even said never to fire the rifle unless you clearly see what you’re shooting at. I didn’t see shit.
He looked out the window at the brightening sky, and then at the front door.
The moment you walk out there, our entire lives may be changed…and not for the better.
He was sick to his stomach, the knot of dread so enormous it physically pained him.
There was a chance whoever it was had run away the moment he and Buttons went outside. That was when all of the chanting and rock throwing had ceased. Buttons hadn’t strayed far from the porch, hadn’t gone off barking. Could it be there had been no one nearby for him to chase?
“Not that you’re very reliable lately,” he said to the dog, who lay on the floor with his head on his front paws.
Andrew’s vision wavered, and he realized he was crying. To think he might have destroyed their lives in one single, stupid moment. He wanted to rush outside to prove to himself that his fears were overblown, but he was in turn terrified to see them justified. The front door both beckoned and repulsed him.
Wiping his tears, he muttered, “Fuck it.”
When he tried to turn the knob, it slipped in his grasp. His palm was slick with sweat. He had to rub it on his pants in order to just open the door.
Keep it together. It’s going to be okay.
His legs went wobbly as a newborn deer when he stepped onto the porch. Buttons nearly knocked him down as he bounded out the door, heading straight for his favorite pissing tree.
Tiny rocks littered the narrow porch.
Leaning on the rail, Andrew looked into the woods, temporarily relieved there wasn’t a body rotting on the ground, chest splayed open from the gunshot.
Which way did I shoot?
It had been in the direction of where their car was parked; that much he was sure of. He felt guilty at his happiness that he hadn’t blown out the windshield or buried a bullet through the hood into the engine.
Slowly, he stepped off the porch, Buttons uttering a quick yap and coming to his side. For the dog, it was a fun moment to be outside. Andrew wished for the dog’s ignorance and innocence. Andrew offered up prayers to a God he no longer believed in, making promises he knew he’d never be able to fulfill in return for not finding a body.
Enough early morning light was penetrating the tree canopy for him to see well beyond the cottage. He held his breath as he walked around, waiting to see his worst nightmare come true at any moment. He kept his eyes on the ground, looking for spatters of blood.
Oh God, if there’s a blood trail I have to follow, I don’t think I can do it.
His heart fluttered as he explored, Buttons scampering about. Only when he’d been at it for a full half hour did he allow himself to finally exhale, leaning against a tree because he wasn’t sure his legs could ho
ld him up anymore.
Buttons kept looking back at the cottage.
“Yeah, I know you wanna go back inside, bud.”
He hadn’t shot anyone. He wasn’t going to jail. He wasn’t going to have to leave Kate.
Andrew sank to the ground, the exhaustion of the past night flooding his system. He’d be perfectly happy going right to sleep out here, the rough bark for a pillow, bugs crawling all over his body. He was just so damn tired.
From his vantage point, he could see the side of the cottage. The roof was filled with rocks big and small.
“Son of a bitch.”
Whoever had been out here had had a field day using the house as target practice.
He’d shown them he wasn’t going to take it lying down anymore (despite the fact he was lying down at the moment). That had to scare them off. Look how terrified he’d been just being on the safe end of the rifle.
Buttons barked, eager to get back inside. Andrew had to grip the tree to pull himself up.
Should he go up on the roof later and sweep those rocks off? He remembered seeing a ladder on the other side of the house. The roof was slanted, but it wasn’t high up. If he left the rocks up there, they’d roll into the gutter and there’d be issues when the next storm came rolling in.
Tomorrow. I don’t trust my legs to go up there today.
All he wanted to do was shower, get comfortable, and slide into bed next to Kate.
He saw the rabbit just as he was reaching down to pet Buttons.
It had been bent in half, its hind legs tangled up in its ears. There was no blood other than a slight stain at its mouth.
Why the fuck would someone do that?
Buttons spotted the rabbit too, and darted over to sniff it.
“Get away from there.”
He crouched down to get a better look. It was white with black spots and lean, not like the kind people kept as pets. He’d have to bury it before Buttons used it as a chew toy or Kate saw it. She loved animals, and the sight of the folded bunny would set her to tears. That meant he’d have to look for a shovel. If he couldn’t find one, he’d head to the hardware store in town.
For now, it would have to be left to the elements. If he was lucky, a scavenger would cart it off and save him the trouble.
Dusting off his jeans, he noticed the rabbit was not alone. Ten feet away, by the tree line, was a pile of dead squirrels crammed into the hollow of a dead, gnarled tree, the top half of it sheered off a considerable time ago. There had to be at least a dozen squirrels in there, their broken bodies jammed into the small opening.
An animal didn’t do that. Animals didn’t stockpile their kills. Not like that.
Holding Buttons by the collar so he wouldn’t tear into the squirrels, Andrew felt his gorge rise when he saw they were all missing their heads.
He was suddenly very glad he’d bought the rifle.
Even more so that the sick son of a bitch who’d done this knew he had it.
* * *
Kate’s fever didn’t break for three more days. The painful, burning microwave feels ebbed and flowed. A few times, Kate thought for sure her spine was going to break…or melt. It usually got bad at night, when her husband was fast asleep. Even though he didn’t have work in the morning, she still didn’t want to wake him up. There was nothing he could do about it anyway. Dr. K had said there’d be miserable days ahead for her.
Andrew never left the cabin, other than to walk Buttons. He’d mentioned going back home more than a few times. At first, Kate was game, but she was far too sick to travel.
Then, as the nights went back to normal, they both began to relax.
Andrew was up to reading a pulp paperback a day, sitting on the porch with his beer, always looking in to make sure she was okay. She wanted him to use the kayak, go explore, but she also loved the comfort of having him close by.
“At the rate you’re reading, you’re going to have to get another bag of books,” she said when he came in to make them lunch.
He tapped his temple. “I’m feeling smarter every day.”
He’d been very quiet the past few days. She knew something was on his mind, but expressing his feelings had never been one of his strong points. After the relief of knowing he hadn’t accidentally shot anyone, Kate had called 3-1-1. She and Andrew agreed there was no need to tell anyone that he’d fired his rifle. A very nice, middle-aged sheriff’s deputy had come by and taken their statements. Kate had watched them from the window as Andrew showed him the rocks on the roof and porch.
When they came back inside, Kate said, “Do you think it’s just kids messing around?”
The deputy, by the name of Jerry Miles, smiled, as if this kind of thing happened every day. “I’m sure of it. You may have realized that there isn’t all that much to do out here. Kids, they get restless, do stupid things. You’re the new people, and trust me, news travels fast in town. I have a couple of locals in mind that are capable of doing this. They’re harmless potheads who watch too many horror movies. On Halloween, they like to dress up as Jason or Freddy and scare the little kids. Morons of the highest order. I think I’ll pay them a visit after this. They usually hang around the woods behind the park. I guarantee, they won’t be back.”
There was something about his confidence that soothed her. She’d been expecting Barney Fife and they had instead gotten Danny Reagan from that show Blue Bloods. It was wrong of her to assume the authorities would be slack-jawed locals with a badge. She’d never been so happy to be so wrong in her life.
“Thank you so much.”
His leather belt creaked as he fished out a card and handed it to Andrew. “You call me if it happens again. But like I said, this should be the end of it. Feel better.”
He’d been true to his word. No more rocks. No more strange noises.
“You want half or a whole cheese sandwich?” Andrew said.
“Half, with lots of Miracle Whip, please.”
Andrew made their sandwiches and put her plate, napkin, small bag of chips, protein drink, and soda on a flat piece of wood he’d fashioned into a bed tray.
“For the queen,” he said.
“I don’t feel very royal today.”
He kissed her forehead. “You also no longer feel like the Human Torch, so that’s a step in the right direction.”
She took a bite of her sandwich and said, “You know, you can go out and do something today. There’s no reason to be cooped up in here when you don’t have to be.”
He devoured half his sandwich in two bites. “Don’t you worry about me. I’m happy right where I am.”
“But I do worry about you. When we’re home, I don’t want you to look back at this summer with regret. Why don’t you try some fishing? You said you used to love to go fishing with your grandpa when you were a kid.”
He smiled at the memory. “Yeah, that man loved to fish. Unfortunately, he handled everything and I was so young and dumb, I never bothered to pay attention. I wouldn’t even know how to tie a line or set up a reel.”
“Then go out for a drive and find a better pizza place. I just don’t want you stuck in here with me every day. It’s bad enough one of us is glued to the bed. I give you permission to find a bar and drink with the locals.”
“The only bars around are VFW halls. I don’t think I qualify for membership. The closest I got to the military was playing Call of Duty.”
Kate took another bite of her sandwich and was done. She wasn’t feeling very hungry today, though she knew her appetite could be revived by a slice of Milano’s pizza. She’d have to wait until September for that.
See you in September.
Now she understood the longing and promise in the old song her father used to sing around the house. It figured that for her, it would be over pizza and not a boy.
Andrew got up to put his plate
in the sink. “Besides, I have work to do on the house.”
Kate looked around the mostly spotless living room. The only real mess was the pile of papers by the fireplace.
“What kind of work?”
“Tomorrow’s the Fourth of July. Gotta make the place spiffy for the holiday. The bathroom floor needs a good mopping, and I have to get all those rocks off the roof. Plus, I have to move some furniture around.”
“What on earth are you talking about? The furniture is just fine where it is.”
He stood over her with his hands on his hips, a mischievous smile on his face. “Not if we’re going to have company.”
Kate eyed him suspiciously. “Company? I know you want to have that old couple over, but I don’t feel up to it.”
“Oh, I’m sure Henry and Ida already have big plans. Probably organizing the fireworks display as we speak and getting the DJ booth set up.”
“Har-har.”
“Nope, instead of the Keepers of the Golden Pond, I invited your brother and Nikki to come up for a long weekend.”
At first, Kate wasn’t sure she’d heard correctly. She stared at him, mouth hanging open.
“You know. Ryker and Nicola. We were at their wedding. I believe he made you eat a worm when you were four.”
An enormous grin spread across her face. “Are you kidding me? I thought they were going away to San Diego.”
Ryker had met Nicola, Nikki to them, on a visit to London, where he was conducting a three-day seminar on unlocking your career potential. Nikki said it was love at first sight. Ryker didn’t disagree. They’d married after a three-month courtship and had been inseparable ever since. It should have made Kate jealous, her little brother living such an amazing life, so full of energy and the entire world wide open for him. All she ever felt when he recounted his latest adventure was pride.
She guessed that was exactly the way big sisters should look at their baby brothers.
Andrew could no longer hold back his own wide smile. “Nope. I called him and said we had a spare bedroom and could use the company. He cancelled San Diego and booked a flight to Portland that afternoon.”