Page 17 of Rabid

His sons stood frozen by the front door, their faces pale.

“You heard me! Where is she?”

“Da?” one of them stammered, taking a cautious step back.

Jeb’s eyes darted toward the shotgun leaning against the wall. He snatched it up, his hands gripping it tightly.

“Where’s Carrie?” he demanded again.

His oldest son swallowed hard and answered, “Carrie’s gone, Da. We buried her a mile from here.”

For a fleeting moment, Jeb’s mind cleared. He remembered. He had beaten Carrie to death, hadn’t he? Yes, her battered body, limp and lifeless. Thememory was vivid.

But then he saw her.

She stood outside the window, her face pale and her eyes staring straight at him.

“She’s not dead!” he screamed, his voice raw. He raised the shotgun, aiming at her apparition. Without hesitation, he pulled the trigger.

The window shattered, glass exploding outward as the deafening blast filled the room. The force sent him stumbling back against the wall, his ears ringing.

When his vision cleared, she was gone.

Jeb dropped to his knees, his body trembling uncontrollably. He tried to catch his breath, but it was useless. His throat burned, his muscles twitched, and his thoughts fragmented into incoherent chaos.

He glanced around the room. His boys had disappeared.

Chapter Fourteen

Hogg Flesh, Hogg Blood

Joan thought about taking Max’s leash but decided against it. If things turned as bad as she expected, the ability to run away could save him. His collar was thick leather and would protect his throat, so it stayed on.

She found one of her metal water bottles and washed it. The thing fit perfectly in her side leg pocket. She highly doubted any of Jeb’s dogs were friendly, but she loaded another pocket with Max’s kibble. If a dog showed signs of rabies, she had no trouble putting it down, but it was easier to picture harming Jeb over his dogs. In Joan’s current mood, she would do whatever it took.

She dug through her medical supplies andstuffed two stretch bandages into a pocket. She also grabbed matches before upending things on her floor to find any other item she thought she might need. Jeb said that burning down her house would bring the authorities. Burning his would do the same, and she placed two lighters and a small box of matches she used to light her wood-burning stove into a separate pocket. Joan holstered her handgun after being sure it had one in the chamber ready to fire. She didn’t own shotgun slugs, but the buckshot would do a lot of damage and cover a wider area. She mentally listed everything she could possibly need and added another flashlight that had twine wrapped around the handle and might come in handy.

She was ready.

“Let’s go find Carrie,” she told Max. He licked her hand before he took off and ran outside. He was halfway to the wash when she caught up to him. He hiked with Joan, and he knew where Carrie lived.

Joan realized Max had known something was wrong with his young friend. She had no idea if he scented it or if it was Carrie’s odd behavior, but he knew. He’d warned her about danger before, and she needed to pay closer attention when he acted strangely. If she had understood, none of this might have happened.

She shut down her feelings of guilt.

Clouds traveled above her, offering glimpses of the full moon. Its glow allowed her to seewithout using her flashlight most of the time. There was a section on her property where high canyon walls blocked the moonlight, and she had to turn the flashlight on, so she didn’t break a leg. She shut it off as soon as she could see again.

The hike gave her time to think. Her city handyman ability was little more than changing out a lightbulb. Now she knew about solar energy, wells, electrical wiring, voltage, and amperage. Most of the knowledge came from YouTube videos. All of it was for Willow. Joan wanted her to have a place to call her own when she got out of prison. Jeb had destroyed the safety net Joan had built for her granddaughter, and one way or another, it ended tonight.

Would Willow understand why Joan was taking on Jeb? She felt Willow would eventually forgive her if she didn’t survive. Her granddaughter had to be safe so she could live her entire life out here if she wanted to.

Fifteen minutes into the hike, a low rumbling growl came from the bushes. Max’s fur stood on end. He answered the threat with his own low rumble. They were too close to the Hoggs’ place for Joan to turn on the flashlight or fire her weapon. A dog fight could alert them too. The bushes rustled, and her heart pounded.

A reddish-brown dog stood between Joan and her rescue operation. Another one, black this time, came from the opposite side. They snarled ateach other before turning crazed eyes on Joan and Max.

Rabies. The word swelled inside her head again. She lifted her shotgun like a baseball bat. The dogs attacked without warning. Max rammed the lighter one. The black dog made it past him and launched himself at Joan. She swung. The shotgun hit him with a solid thunk, but it didn’t even slow him down. Joan fell backward on impact. Her adrenaline was too high to feel pain. He grabbed her leg below the knee, his teeth sinking deep.

It almost felt surreal.

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