Page 16 of Rabid

“I need your help,” she said. “It’s Carrie. We need to find her. Her mom too. I can’t do it alone, and this is dangerous.” He stared back, intelligent brown eyes telling her he would do whatever she asked. He whined and pushed his head into her leg.

The Hoggs abused their dogs. Joan had taken more pictures of their atrocities the year before. The sheriff’s department, after several lawsuits filed by Jeb, stayed clear of the family. Her new evidence did nothing.

She took a deep breath and allowed the fear to fade even more. A child’s life was at stake, and this ended tonight. Maybe there were advances in battling rabies that she didn’t know about, and Carrie could be saved. Joan would hold onto thethought and do whatever it took.

She stood among her damaged things that meant little right now. Her thoughts tumbled around what had to be done and how to do it. She would take the fight to them. It was the only way Carrie and Susan had a chance. Help wouldn’t arrive for hours, and she couldn’t wait.

Joan was in excellent shape despite her age. The deep hatred she felt for Jeb pulsed within her brain. She allowed the rage to build further. It would give her the strength to do what had to be done.

Jeb had added a large metal barn for the dogs about two years before. She could no longer see the daily abuse that had burned into her soul. Deputy Berger warned her to stay away from the Hoggs. His warning hadn’t stopped her. Due to her occasional night surveillance operations, she knew their property almost as well as she knew hers.

Joan pushed a wisp of hair from her face and spotted one of her ball caps on the floor. After twisting her hair onto the crown of her head, she pulled the cap over it. The dark color would help keep her white hair hidden.

The house no longer felt like home. It had been violated. She knew it could be cleaned, but it didn’t help the sadness at seeing so many of her things destroyed. She reminded herself to focus. Carrie was all that mattered now.

Joan’s closet suffered the least damage.They’d dragged some stuff out, but most of her things were still inside. She located a long-sleeved black pullover and black cargo pants with plenty of pockets that she liked to hike in.

The rack of knives she kept on the kitchen counter was gone. She had a hunting knife in the root cellar that would work. She also had bear spray if they hadn’t found it. She’d ordered the stuff after her first mountain lion sighting. She went into the bathroom and pulled the can from the back corner of the cabinet. She didn’t care that Dale Berger warned her she would spray herself if she used it. The deputy could go to hell.

A twelve-by-twelve strong box was in the back of her closet, hidden behind a stack of clothes, and they hadn’t found it. She carried it with her when she went for the hunting knife. She left the strong box behind. Deputy Berger knew about the underground hideaway. Everything Willow would need was in the box. Joan didn’t like the deputy, but she had no choice but to trust him if she didn’t survive. She probably should have been nicer to him through the years.

Joan didn’t think about death as she prepared. Her life no longer mattered. She thought of the suffering they’d put the dogs through. She thought of the bruises on Carrie and her mother. With crystal clearness, Joan knew it was Jeb Hogg and his sons or Carrie and Susan.

Joan had been on this path for a long time.

Chapter Thirteen

Hogg Hell Day Three

By the time Jeb and his sons returned home, his throat burned with a fire that wouldn’t ease. Sweat dripped from every pore, soaking his clothes, and a sour odor clung to him; a stench he couldn’t escape. He staggered into the kitchen and grabbed another jug of water, desperate to quench his thirst. As soon as he raised it to his mouth, his throat seized. He gagged and spat the water across the room, coughing and choking violently.

Saliva pooled in his mouth, thick and uncontrollable. His hands shook as he wiped it away, a cold dread sinking in. Then it hit him like a thunderclap.

His bitch of a wife was poisoning him.

“Where are you, Susan?” he bellowed, his voice cracking with rage.

“Da, what’s wrong?” one of his sons asked, stepping forward hesitantly.

“Get the fuck away from me, or I’ll kill you too!” Jeb roared, storming past him, his breath ragged as he searched the house for his wife.

He headed for the bedroom first, but Susan wasn’t there. He knew her hiding spots. Swinging open Carrie’s closet door, he found her crouched inside, trembling.

“There you are!” He grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked her out, her screams cutting through the air like a knife.

“Shut the hell up!” he shouted, slamming his hand across her face. Her head snapped to the side, and her cries turned to whimpers. He struck her again, this time with his fist, the blow landing hard against her temple. Her body crumpled, but he wasn’t done.

Jeb dragged her up by her hair, her feet barely brushing the floor. She clawed at his hands, gasping for breath. “What are you poisoning me with?” he growled, his face inches from hers, his spit flecking her skin.

Her wide, terrified eyes said she couldn’t answer even if she wanted to. He shook her violently, slamming her head against the wall with each shout. “Tell me! Answer me, goddamn it!”

Susan’s eyes rolled back, and her body went limp. He let go, and she collapsed in a heap. Her skull cracked against the floor with a sickening thud.

Jeb stood over her, his chest heaving, then kicked her ribs with enough force to send her sliding across the floor. Her body didn’t move. He didn’t care.

His arm itched furiously. He clawed at it, tearing open a wound he didn’t remember getting. Blood oozed from the jagged scratches, and he stared at it, trying to make sense of why it was there.

“Where’s Carrie?” he shouted, his voice echoing through the house as he stormed out of the room. “Where is that bitch?”

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