Hell Hath No Fury

by TW Brown

  Tricia rebounded, popping up like a blood splattered spring daisy. She ignored her screaming sister and made a flying leap where her mother had landed. It might have been comical under other circumstances, but the murderous expression and blood smeared on the little girl’s face were anything but funny. Mandy appeared to finally snap out of her frozen position and she ran from the corner of the kitchen and out of sight. Dusty saw her moments later, running out the front of the apartment into the snowstorm. This time he could hear her screaming frantically.

  Did that really happen? Stunned at what he’d just witnessed, he stood back from the window. She looked right at me. The pain and confusion in her eyes had spoken volumes in a glance. Licking his dry lips, Dusty came to the realization that Beth was yelling at him from her end of the phone line. Clumsily, with shaking hands, he fished the phone out of the sink.

  “Are you still there? Hello? Should I come over? Dusty!” Beth was shouting and he cringed, pulling the phone away from his ear for a moment.

  “I’m sorry. Don’t come over. I’m here. I just…I wish you could have seen…no. I don’t. You wouldn’t have wanted to see what I just saw. The injured girl, Tricia, went just completely crazy and jumped on her mother and tore her throat open with her bare fingers. Blood was everywhere. I can’t stop seeing it in my head. It was terrible. The worst thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”

  “Oh my God. What the hell happened?”

  “I don’t know. Tricia was just sitting on the kitchen table while Shauna, the mom, was yelling at the oldest girl, Mandy. Then, bam! Tricia was jumping on her mother and pretty much just tearing her apart. Mandy just left the apartment screaming.”

  “Holy shit. Maybe ‘crazy’ runs in their family. You need to call the cops. Hang up with me and call them, but call me right back after!” Beth disconnected without letting him say anything else and he stared at the phone blankly. His mouth was dry. His fingers fumbled on the soda pop can, and he drank deep, wishing it were alcohol. Wiping his mouth on his wrist, he dialed 911.

  Pacing the kitchen floor, he ran a hand through his hair. Could I have done something? Running over there to help hadn’t even crossed his mind. It happened so quickly, and it was so unexpected, that he had been frozen to the spot. And what would he have done? Bash some ten-year-old’s head in? Throw her around, trying to get her away from Shauna and Mandy? He rubbed his face listening to his connection trying to get through.

  ***

  Beth hung up, sucking her bottom lip into her mouth. Maybe she should just go over to his place. By the time he called her back, she could be halfway there already. Rushing down the hall into her bathroom, she took a few moments to relieve herself. The cell phone was clutched in her hand the whole time, just in case she didn’t hear it ring. She stared at the display while she peed, waiting.

  Or, her mind raced coming up with alternate ideas, maybe he should pack up an overnight bag and come to my place for the night. It’d be well away from the horrible things that’d gone on in the apartment complex across the way from his. He had to be completely wrecked having seen all that. It was something out of a horror movie. She glanced out her bathroom window and watched the snow falling steadily.

  It was pretty nasty out there, and her Jeep would do better in the snow than his Toyota probably would. She’d just bought a new set of tires for the Jeep a week ago. Dusty probably hadn’t bought a new set of tires in two years. The traction in her Jeep would be more helpful to get through the snow.

  Hopping off the toilet, she tidied up, and tugged her pants up, watching the phone. She shoved it into her back pocket where she’d feel it buzz and flushed. Then, she moved quickly to her bedroom, throwing on an extra pair of socks and, after a new thought, pulled on a sweatshirt that hit her jeans mid-thigh. If she got stuck out there on the roads, she’d want to be layered.

  Rushing back into her small computer den, she powered the computer down and grabbed her Jeep keys. Rifling through the rack of coats, she chose the old padded ski jacket that was warm, comfortable, and not too bulky. She thought about grabbing some ski pants, but she thought better of it because she really didn’t intend on getting stuck out there. Nah, it’ll be fine.

  Shoving her feet into a pair of warm, high snow boots, she grabbed a sturdy shovel from the corner, hat, gloves, and a scarf. She hoped the roads were plowed by now, because it’d make things a hell of a lot easier. They had been little more than shifting snow piles on her way home. It’d been more like skiing on four wheels than driving. Before pulling on the gloves, she grabbed the cell from her back pocket and checked to make sure he hadn’t called back yet. He hadn’t, so she put it in her coat pocket. She’d plop it on her seat when she got into the Jeep.

  She pulled on her gloves. Snapping the locks on the door, she whipped it open and came face to face with the older features of Carole Sprague, the retired grammar teacher/neighbor from down the hall. The woman was getting ready to knock on Beth’s door, and yelped as it had swung open. Beth stumbled back shocked, and issued a yelp of her own. “Mrs. Sprague, is everything okay?”

  Carole placed a hand on her chest dramatically and Beth fought the urge to roll her eyes. “Why yes, dear. I was coming to tell you that you parked over the yellow line outside. My Charlie had a hard time opening his car door to come inside.”

  “I couldn’t see the line, Mrs. Sprague. It’s buried under a pile of snow. I parked as close as I could in the middle of the lot so that cars could fit around me, but there’s too much snow to tell where the line was.”

  Carole clucked her tongue. “Well, I could see the line. I had no trouble getting out on my side. Doyle Montgomery, who parks on my side, parked perfectly… so I had no trouble at all.”

  Beth’s brow creased. “Mr. Montgomery doesn’t work on Tuesday’s so his car was parked in his space before the snow storm came,” she pointed out, trying with all her might not to sound snippy. She wasn’t sure if she was succeeding.

  Carole’s mouth puffed with aggravation, her gaze full of accusation. “Your Jeep just takes up so much space. It’s a wonder no one has complained about it. It almost takes up a space and a half for goodness sakes.”

  Same old Carole Sprague. Pain in the ass extraordinaire. “Well, I can’t afford to buy a new, smaller car, so it will have to do, Mrs. Sprague. I’m heading out anyway, I’ll try to park better when I get back.”

  “You’re going out in this?” Carole looked back over her shoulder and down the long hallway as if demons from Hell were just beyond the outside door. Her mouth twisted into a fine line, shaking her white, short curls.

  “That’s the plan, yes.” Beth carefully used her body to propel the woman back from her doorstep… turned, and locked the door.

  “I’ll be back soon. I don’t want to be out in it any-more than I have to be. I appreciate your concern, and like I said, I’ll try to park better when I get back.” Though, Beth suspected she’d be getting a call from the landlord with a parking complaint anyway. Beth hoped that she never became so old that she became such a pain in the ass to everyone around her. With a fake smile, Beth moved around Mrs. Sprague.

  Scurrying to her own door, Carole watched from the door way as Beth reached the outer door. When the door opened bringing a blast of cold air, she closed her own door with a quick snap. She moved to the front windows, peering through the blinds to watch Beth walk down the pathway to the parking lot.

  ***

  The cold air hit Beth full in the face, and she shuddered, pulling the door firmly behind her. The stinging, wet, hard snow slapped at her cheeks as she averted her face from the wind. Fucking snow. I need to move someplace with a beach and hot waiters serving Mojito’s all day. I’m out of my damned mind living here. I better get some off-the-wall, great sex for going out in this shit, that’s for damn sure.

  She made it to her vehicle, pushing a rough path through the snow. Arriving at her Jeep door, she noticed the yellow line to the parking space had been cleared away of snow on the S
pragues’ side and she rolled her eyes. Her tires were on the line. With so many other things to have to worry about in the world, a parking space seemed a candy-ass thing to crab about all the time. Unlocking the driver side, she was just about to open it and toss the shovel in the general direction of the back seat when she noticed a large shape move behind her in the slightest clear portion left in the driver’s side window.

  Turning, she let out a gasp and backed into her door.

  Will Gilbert had always been extremely attractive. Tall, blonde, green eyes. The guy was eye candy times about ten, with whipped cream on top. Getting to actually know Will took extreme effort since a girl had to have legs to her ears, blonde hair, a small ass, and big breasts—none of the categories that Beth fell into. But now, in the snowstorm of the year so far, Will was standing between her Jeep and the Spragues’ car. A kiss distance away.

  Bundled in a sweatshirt, with the hood up, gloves, a scarf tied under his hood, and jeans, he didn’t look prepared for the winter weather at all. He looked damn cold. Isn’t he freezing?

  She felt the door handle pressing into the small of her back through the coat and winced. “Something I can help you with, Will?” Please don’t say your pants. Please don’t say your pants.

  Beth loved Dusty, but she wasn’t made of stone. Will was hot. Oh, she wouldn’t sleep with him, she didn’t think, but she wasn’t dead from the neck down. Things grew a little uncomfortable as Will cocked his head and just stared at her as the snow fell around them. Look, Ma, it’s the creepiest goddamn Kay Jeweler’s commercial there ever was.

  “Uhm, Will?” Beth chuckled, a highly fake sound even to her own ears, trying to relieve some of the bizarre tension in the air. What the hell is this all about?

  Feeling heat flash across her cheeks at his apparently confused scrutiny, Beth sighed, shaking her head. The little ball on the top of her hat bobbed in response. “You have to move, Will. I’m really not amused by whatever this is.” She waved her hand in the air in front of his face, and his eyes moved with her hand like it was a magic wand. Making a noise, she reached out and pushed him far out of the way, toward the rear end of the Jeep. Whatever. He was probably on drugs or so drunk he didn’t know what he was doing out in the storm.

  Opening the door to the Jeep, Beth was pushing the shovel into the passenger side, and about ready to slide into the seat as she felt her hat removed roughly. She spun, seething. “Okay. What the fuck? Are you seriously being this much of an asshat or what?”

  She stood in disbelief as Will began sniffing her hat. Her mouth dropped open in shock, not knowing what to make of this as he turned her hat inside out and kept it to his nose. Snow fell heavily, and she shivered feeling the cold snow blowing on her head. “Stop being a douche, Will. Go home and sleep it off. And give me my damn hat back.” She reached out to take it and he snarled at her like a dog.

  Jerking her hand back, she knew she had a decision to make. Take her shovel and threaten to beat his ass to get her hat back, or abandon the damn thing and get in the Jeep. Whatever his problem was, he’d likely be gone when she got back. Being out alone in the middle of this weather didn’t bolster her confidence at a verbal throw down in the parking lot either. She wasn’t actually sure if she could get away with beating him down with a shovel to get her hat back. The police probably wouldn’t take the explanation too well. Over a hat? Yeah, right. “Whatever. Keep it. Hope you like Prell shampoo, you ass.” What a freak!

  She went to slide into her Jeep when again, she felt a sharp tug—this time, on the back of her ski jacket pulling her away from the seat. Further outraged, Beth spun, dragging the half-interred shovel with her. “Will? Seriously? What the f-f—” She was cut off as Will growled deep in his throat and lunged at her.

  Stunned for a moment, Beth watched as his hands clawed the air in a clumsy attempt to reach her, his feet sliding in the shifting snow under his loafers. “Are you fucking kidding me? Is this a joke?” She’d seen The Crazies before dammit, and this just was not happening for real, was it? She waited to hear him utter ‘brains’ in some stupid exaggerated tone, implying it was all a joke. But when he didn’t, she cracked him over the head with the shovel.

  It was not one of those wussy, thin plastic ones people bought in emergencies. She’d picked up a large, flat-headed shovel with thick plastic and a metal edged blade. It clanged off the top of his skull, and she felt the vibrations shake all the way up her arms. He took some steps backwards, visibly dazed.

  For all her talk, actually striking someone worried her. With all the lawsuits going around, she wasn’t sure about how to react. There were no witnesses to claim that she was being attacked before she swung and that she was only defending herself. She looked around to confirm whether someone had actually seen or not. She didn’t see anyone.

  Dragging her gaze back to Will, she saw that blood had seeped from somewhere under his hoodie and leaked into his eyes. Feeling frightened on so many levels, Beth tried talking him down. “Look, Will, you are freaking me out. I hit you because you were coming at me. Just go home, and we’ll pretend this didn’t happen.” Hopefully, he doesn’t have a concussion and die in his sleep, she thought with a frown. What if I cracked his skull?

  She didn’t have much time to think on it. Suddenly, with a deep groan he ran at her—looking as if he meant to tackle her to prevent a touchdown—into the piling embankment of snow buffering the parking lot. She began bringing the shovel up between them, but now he was too close and he slammed into her. Their combined weight crashed into the open Jeep door, making the entire vehicle rock forward and the door creak in protest with the unexpected force.

  Will was snarling at her, trying to get his face closer to hers as she used the shovel as a barrier between them, pushing him back as hard as she could. Christ, he’s actually trying to bite me! She struggled, trying to keep him from sinking his mouth into her neck. On instinct, her knee went up hard, catching him between the legs.

  Kneeing boys in the balls had been something every girl had been advised on, at some point or another, to do if they were attacked. It was a golden rule that every girl kept in the back of her mind. It was supposed to work. Like magic. The pain was supposed to drop a male attacker like a felled tree. But for Will, he just seemed to grow pissed and more urgent in his attack.

  Frantic, and her arms burning with the effort to keep his face from getting closer to hers, her gaze swept the parking lot trying to see if anyone could help her. She knew it wasn’t logical, she’d already looked, but she was also afraid that she might not be able to fend Will off for much longer. Her arms hurt with the strain of keeping him away as far as she could, and despite the snow and cold, her body had broken out in a sheen of sweat beneath her clothes. “Don’t know what you’ve been eating, but your breath smells like ass, Will,” she muttered between clenched teeth.

  Will’s curled fingers were digging brutally into the forearms of her coat. They felt like pincers on the skin beneath her layers. She cried out in pain as his fingertips dug in even tighter. His features were giving her every indication that he meant to murder her right where she stood, pressed against the door. His teeth were chomping together in a bone-chilling clatter only an inch from her nose. Just a little give, and he would be biting into her and things would become a lot more painful.

  Desperately, she brought her boot up and kicked at his ankles in hard, repeated strikes. The snow on the ground was a slippery surface, and his loafers didn’t have much traction. If this didn’t work, she’d be chow for Will, the first fucking flesh eating zombie she’d ever seen, and she knew it.

  When Will began to fall, most of his face smashed into her chest, forehead hitting the handle of the snow shovel, his jaws clacking together with a loud snap! As he continued to fall, his hands grasped at her, sliding down the arms of her jacket as he went down.

  He hit hard on his knees, fingers digging into her wrists in a macabre picture of a proposal. His snarl was lost in the layers of her clothing
, and she could feel his teeth gnashing, seeking her belly. Repulsed and frightened, Beth pushed on the shovel handle and brought up her knee to clip him under the chin. Blood was pouring from his mouth when she used her boot to shove him away from her. He fell back in the snowy parking lot snarling, with more blood trickling freely from under his hoodie. Not so cute now, are you?

  He looked like he’d get back up and Beth, having the advantage of positioning, stomped over to him, high on adrenaline, fright, and anger. She brought the shovel up and whacked him over the head with it again.

  “Mother fucker! Stay down!” She hit him again watching the blood fly as he reached out for her legs.

  ***

  Letting his car warm up, Dusty swept off the car and shoveled his back tires out to try to avoid spinning out in the lot. Snow and wind swirled bitterly against his exposed face making his nose run and his eyes water. Even as he blinked and sniffed the wetness away, more replaced it. He gritted his teeth against the stinging snowflakes, so thick it was like being in mosquito territory in the Amazon.

  He gripped the travel shovel between his hands, wielding the heavy snow with a bit of extra effort. It was a small one that he kept in the trunk for emergencies, and it bowed under the weight of the snow. Glad that the wooden handle hadn’t actually snapped in two like he feared, he replaced it in the trunk before getting back inside the car. It must be nice living in Texas this time of year.

  His heart raced from the exertion as he sat behind the steering wheel of the Camry, staring at the wipers as they waved across the windshield. Tapping his gloved fingers against the wheel, he exhaled with nervous apprehension. He couldn’t get through to 911, the line just rang and rang. And when he tried calling Beth back, he received the recording, “Your AT&T customer cannot be reached.” He’d received similar mes-sages when trying to contact his landlord, and then finally, when trying to dial 911 again.