Page 4 of Cabin Fever

He pointed at me and yelled, "I'm going to—"

That's all I heard because I blacked out. In a way, it was a blessing. I wouldn't be conscious for my death. Goodbye world. I had fun, except for my wedding day. Maybe Derrick would feel sleazy for cheating on me now that I was dead.

TWO

Carter

WHO IN THE FUDGE-PACKINGfudgsicles is this?

"Get out of my house!" I stood taller and rested my Marlin 336 rifle across my arm, taking a step into the room.

The woman didn't move. She was sprawled on the floor in a pink, white, and bean-covered heap next to my kitchen table.

I left the door open, in case I needed a quick escape. Looking back, Kitty was having an early dinner with the beans, trying to curl her tongue deep into the can. With each lick, the metal scraped over the floor and was pushed closer to the wall.

I'd let her enjoy her snack while I figured out what thief broke into my home to steal beans while wearing bright pink. Did she find the hidden stash of my belongings under the floorboards? Even if she did, she won't be leaving with them.

Moving closer to the breathing heap on the floor, I firmed my grip on my Marlin and tapped her knee with my foot. Just a nudge to see if she'd wake.

Nothing.

Pushing the hood from my head, I gathered a breath. "Shitake mushrooms, this is bad."

Realizing I was no longer in danger of being attacked by a deranged burglar with zombie-lust for cans, I moved back to the front door and closed it. Then I went to unload the rifle and put it away under my bed.

I came back out of the bedroom to find the woman hadn't moved yet.

"What am I going to do, Kitty?"

Kitty was now cradling the can between her paws, more concerned at retrieving the microscopic bean remains left than the intruder on the floor. I looked down and put my hands on my hips. "You're supposed to help protect this home. What kind of watchdog are you?"

Kitty lifted and tilted her angular head with surprise.

"Yes, I'm still here. This woman is still lying on the floor." I waved my hand. My dog glanced for a moment at the intruder before looking back at me, clearly unconcerned.

Sighing, I could hear my father's words in my head when I first chose Kitty from the litter to take home. "Don't pick the loud one, son, because the dog will grow up barking your ear off. And don't pick a boisterous one. That's a dog who will only care about playing. We need one that has enough energy to play but knows when to work."

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