Page 10 of Demise

Moments later, I’m in my car, knowing Paul will call me if there’s anything to report with Bones. They informed us that Bexley was sleeping. She’s malnourished, has a bump on her head from when she fainted, a deep cut on her hand, and a twisted ankle.

Bones is in surgery. He went back for a CT scan and then quickly to surgery to remove the glass and repair the damage. Thankfully, they did tell us the cut was not that deep. He suffers from a head wound also, which needed to be stitched.

I switch my lights on as twilight settles around me. The roads are icy. My windshield wipers whip back and forth, moving sleet away from my vision. I know Trig wasn’t moving when I went back in to get Bones. Bexley had shot Trig, but I didn’t have time to look at where or how badly. I saw blood, but I didn’t take a moment to figure out where it came from.

Bones was bleeding, and he wasn’t stable on his feet. He was my main priority. God, I nearly knocked him out when he tried to lift Bexley from the porch. What was he thinking? The stubborn bastard.

The road leading to the Barrens appears ahead and my eyes blur over a bit. I blink, rubbing them, trying to get my vision to clear. It’s been happening more often. I can’t see as good as I used to. Comes with age, I guess.

I pick up my speed. Flipping open my glove compartment, I pull out my gun, unsure of what I’ll walk into. I’m alone, after all, and he could have had others working with him.

I pull up the drive, looking cautiously around me at the darkening woods. I put the car in park. Killing the engine, I sit for a moment, listening.

A long creak comes from the porch as the wind howls through the pines, moving the door of the cabin. It doesn’t take long for my fingers to stiffen and my breath to blow cold.

The tops of the trees sway against the dusky background and a loud snap sounds through the woods as a branch plummets to the floor of the Barrens.

My door grinds in protest and I step out, gun in hand. My steps are slow, my breathing controlled. The porch steps give a little when they bear my weight and I guardedly push the door open.

The house groans as its old wood expands with the cold. My eyes go to the body still lying on the floor. I sigh. “Fuck,” I breathe. I make my steps soft as I near him. The cabin is quiet, and the sky grows darker.

Crimson paints the wall, and the window is splattered. I jolt when my phone vibrates in my pocket. “Jesus,” I mutter. I quickly grab it in case it’s Paul, but shocked to see it is not.

I hit answer.

“Sweep?”

I don’t respond as I look down at the dead body.

“Sweep, you there? Fuck, man, I heard you found them. I heard they’re okay.”

I tilt my head, walking closer to the body and lean down. Holding the phone between my shoulder and cheek, I rip off the mask. I stumble back a bit. This doesn’t add up. My eyes go to his wrist.

The fuck?

“Goddamn, man, I know you’re the quiet type, but can you say something? Where are you? I’m at the hospital with Paul.”

“You’re at the hospital?” I ask.

“Yeah. Where else would I be? As soon as I discovered you found them, I came here.”

I look out the window. “Where’s your truck?” I ask, staring right at it.

“I drove my car. It’s in the parking lot.”

“Where is your truck?”

“Why are you acting so fucking weird? I had to drive my car. Miles boosted the truck from me this morning. I bought the thing from his junkie ass a few months ago, and I guess he thought he needed it back. I’m going to kill the son of a bitch.”

“Yeah, well, that might be a challenge,” I mumble.

“Why?”

I look down. “He’s already dead.”

Chapter Eleven

Bexley

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