Page 82 of Dark Sky

“Ah, well. It did the trick, though,” Earl said. “It sounds like the first rifle my daddy—your granddaddy—gave me. It’s a good thing he didn’t have a real weapon.”

Brad moaned something.

Earl said, “You don’t need to try to talk, Brad. You sound simple when you do.”

“Heissimple,” Kirby said. “He should have let Brock come out on his own. If he had, this would all be over.”

“Fug you,” Brad said.

“That I got,” Earl responded. “He’s got a point.”

Brad looked sharply away. Earl was familiar with the gesture. Brad was angry and hurt.

“Jus’ cuz you cain’t fug her no mo’,” Brad said.

Earl froze. “What did you say?”

“She’s god. Your liddle Princess. You’re puddin’ us frew dis ’cause you cain’t fug her no mo’.”

Earl turned to Kirby.

Kirby hesitated a moment. His face was ashen, and Earl was pretty sure it wasn’t from his injury.

“Kirby, what did he say?”

“He said, ‘Just because you can’t fuck her anymore, you’re putting us through all of this.’”

Kirby’s tone wasn’t sarcastic or mocking like it usually was, Earl noted. Kirby said the words cautiously.

“Are you sure he said that?” Earl asked.

“Yes.”

Earl wheeled in his saddle and hit Brad with the butt of his rifle in his shattered jaw. Brad cried out and fell to the ground beside his horse with a heavy crash.

Earl was on him in seconds, moving faster than he had in years, and he brought the rifle butt down again and again, even though Brad managed to parry a few of the blows. Brad lay onhis back with his knees in the air and his arms out in front of his face. He didn’t try to fight back. All Earl could see was the massive form of his son writhing through a curtain of red.

“Dad, stop it,” Kirby cried out. “You’re killing him.”

Earl saw an opening between Brad’s forearms and slammed the rifle butt through it and into his chest. Brad wheezed and rolled over to his side, exposing the side of his neck.

Earl took aim and raised the rifle when Kirby shouted, “Dad, stop it!” Kirby sounded panicked, which was unusual for his second son.

Earl hesitated. He was out of breath and the red curtain faded away. Brad groaned beneath his feet and turned his bloody head toward him. His expression reminded Earl of the last look from a severely wounded animal before he cut its throat. The look was dispassionate and almost understanding in regard to what was about to happen.

Instead, Earl spun the rifle around and lowered the muzzle until it was pressed against the flesh of Brad’s forehead. His son’s eyes were white and wide and they stared stupidly up at him.

“Do not ever say anything like that to me again,” Earl said calmly.

“I won’d,” Brad replied. He sounded like he was gargling at the same time.

“If you do, I’ll kill you.I’ll kill you.”

Brad blinked his agreement and his understanding.

Earl turned on his heel and walked away to cool down. As he did, he glanced over his shoulder. Kirby had dismounted andwas helping Brad get to his feet. Brad staggered and Kirby held him up and tried to steady him. They embraced for a moment and then pulled away so they could look into each other’s eyes. Something passed between them, something unsaid.

Earl fought an urge to turn, raise his rifle, and shoot them both down.

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