Page 17 of Echo
“Hey!” I yelled out. “Explain why you’re on my property again or I’ll let my dog rip your leg off.”
The only sound that answered was the wind in the trees. The leaves and branches brushing against each other were a wind chime of sorts, and the sudden silence was more alarming than I was mentally prepared for. But the wind hadn’t changed in speed or strength.
Something wasn’t right.
There wasn’t anything in my line of sight, but I suddenly felt like I was a rabbit in a fox hole.
Ranger stayed where he was, but stopped barking.
That was it.
It was too unnaturally quiet.
I turned and found the chickens watching the trees, too. Not a single cluck from over a dozen chickens. The cow wasn’t mooing in the barn. The pigs weren’t bellowing. Even the bugs and birds weren’t chirping.
I licked my suddenly dry lips in nervousness. What kind of predator could make nature itself stop? I dropped the paint can and carefully sat the eggs down. When I stood, I flipped the shotgun back into my hands and stepped forward.
The crack of a stick under my shoe made me cringe. Anything would hear me coming from a mile away, but I kept moving. Slinking down the stone path until I made it to the back porch, where a giant ball of brown and white fur laid on across the boards.
I internally cringed. It just had to be the porch with the glass door.
An unholy cry brayed out of it, and I risked coming closer to get a better look. It was a half dead deer on my porch. I’d even be willing to bet it was the same one that startled me yesterday.
It cried out again as I approached, and I could swear it was begging me to end its misery. I kept my space, but adjusted my angle to get a better look.
Four giant gashes were pouring blood all over the white porch. Guts poured out of the open wounds, and it was amazing this thing made it this far.
Dad always said to never trust a dying animal. The kick of life was at its strongest right before death. Only someone arrogant thinks the fight is gone before the last breath was exhaled.
“You poor thing.”
It let out another wail of agony.
“That mean bear got you, huh, girl?” This must have been why it was so hostile last night. It’d lost its kill. I lined up a headshot. “I’m sorry.”
A mercy kill right to the forehead ended the cries for help. Once the last bit of life left the poor thing’s eyes, I stepped closer. What exactly was I supposed to do with a dead body on my doorstep?
People ate deer meat, right? Was I supposed to do something with this?
I couldn’t leave it on my doorstep. That would encourage more wild animals to visit my porch.
“Think, Madison.” I scratched the back of my neck. The Falin’s. I’d bet they knew what to do. I’d give them the deer meat, if the husband would remove this thing off my porch.
I went the long way around the house, not wanting to risk getting too close to the body. As I came around, a black rental car came to a screeching stop in the driveway.
Mark’s hateful brown eyes landed on me through the windshield. My lungs stopped working for a single heartbeat.
Run.
Ranger barked and growled. I raised the rifle back up.
Mark slinked out of his car without a care in the world. Like I wasn’t holding him at gunpoint. He clenched his fists.
The suit he was wearing was too crisp to have spent days in his car. No, he was freshly showered, and his Pompous Ass cologne floated on the wind.
It was him last night. He was teaching me a lesson and getting off on my fear.
That’s all it was.
