by Roberts, EM
Making her way to the bed, Ella lay down and prepared to sleep. She rolled to her right side and stuck her hand beneath the pillow. She glanced out the window and noticed one of the horses munching on hay in the distance as a slight breeze ruffled its mane. It was such a peaceful scene. Third shift wasn’t normally her schedule. Usually, she and the other officer, Tom, rotated twelve hour day shifts, but this close to hunting season; they started rotating night shifts as well. Ella liked her job and thought there wasn’t anything better than spending half the day out in the woods. It was normally a peaceful job especially after the hectic life she’d led in the military.
She guessed it wasn’t a very feminine job, and she was fine with that. If a man was intimidated by her job, then she certainly didn’t need him. Women also seemed to be intimidated by Ella. She guessed it was because most women she knew weren’t adept at handling firearms or enjoyed hunting the way she did. Also, not many women she knew could field dress a deer or a squirrel, Ella thought as she smiled sleepily. It wasn’t something she enjoyed overly much, but she took satisfaction in knowing it was something she could do. She couldn’t imagine Roe tromping around in the woods let alone cutting open a deer. Even as a child, Ella’d gone hunting with her father, and it almost seemed like fate that she’d grown up to be a conservation officer after her stint in the forces.
Later, as she stealthily made her way through the trees along Fishtrap River, Ella wished she could take back the earlier admiration of her job duties. She loved the woods, but she definitely didn’t love the dark. Although the moon was partially full in the sky making it easy to see, there was still a sense of something out in the darkness she couldn’t name. Usually her place of refuge, her surroundings felt peculiar, foreboding even. Ella silently laughed. The boogeyman wasn’t hiding behind some tree waiting to jump out and grab her. No vampire was going to sink his teeth into her veins and compel her to fall madly in love with him. This was not some horror movie. The only people she needed to look out for were those crazy Kincaids who tended to be kind of dumb and somewhat predictable. She knew their truck would be parked just around the creek. It always was. All she had to do was set up a spot and wait for them to return with their trophies.
As Ella sat on a stump waiting, her mind wandered back to the conversation she’d had with her brother last week. As usual, it’d ended with Ella hanging up. Why couldn’t Eli realize the world didn’t revolve around high society and money? Ella’s twin brother Eli had basically abandoned Ella and her family as soon as he’d left for college. A certified genius, Eli received scholarship after scholarship from schools begging him to accept. The boy had received an almost perfect score on his SATs and a 4.5 GPA in high school having taken various advanced classes. Although Ella considered herself an intelligent person, being around Eli literally made her feel like a dumbass.
After high school graduation, Eli chose a school in New York City and devoted all of his time to his studies. Following his doctorate, he’d been recruited by a giant pharmaceutical company who distributed medicine all around the world. He hadn’t spent all of his time on his studies and career, though. He’d had time to meet the hoity-toity Margot and marry her. In the fourteen years since he’d been gone, he’d returned to visit fewer than ten times. Ella recalled their phone conversation from last week:
“What do you mean you aren’t coming down for Christmas this year?” Ella angrily asked.
“Ella, I’m sorry, but I am working on something very important, and I have to be here,” Eli replied in his pseudo Northern accent.
For God’s sake, her brother didn't even sound the same. He sounded like a damn yuppie. Ella guessed living for over a decade in New York had erased Eli’s southern drawl, but did he really have to sound so fucking uptight? She knew his roots. She knew he came from a little Podunk town in the South and had sucked his thumb until he was five.
“Your mother has Alzheimer’s, and your father is seventy-three years old. I’d think you could spare them a little of your time. You are all dad talks about. His son, the doctor. They haven’t seen you in a year, Elijah,” Ella berated, calling her brother by his proper name knowing it was sure to piss him off. This time, however, it hadn’t.
“Listen, this is serious, Ella. I know you think I’m a total shit for not visiting, but the work I’m doing is important. Keep an eye out because I’m sending an important package...” Eli had replied causing Ella to slam down the phone in anger cutting him off in mid-sentence.
He could keep his fancy gifts. They were probably impractical anyway. Why did her father need a freaking Rolex or a big screen television on a farm? They didn’t make up for her brother’s lack of attention to their parents. She didn’t really care whether he came to see her or not. It was just heartbreaking to see the hope in her father’s eyes. Eli and Ella were late in life children, and because of that, her father and mother doted on the both of them. She knew how much they both missed their son. She also knew while her father would be disappointed, he would also make excuses for Eli’s behavior.
Her mother and father had tried to have children when they’d first married. After a couple of miscarriages and then nothing, they’d finally given up. Instead, they’d lavished attention on the neighborhood children, even becoming foster parents at one time. When her mother was forty, she’d become violently ill with what she thought was a stomach virus or food poisoning. Convinced she suffered from one or the other, she visited her local doctor who happily informed her it wasn’t a case of food poisoning but a pregnancy. Worried she was too old to have a healthy pregnancy, she’d burst into tears worried she’d miscarry. Two months later, she was informed she was carrying twins. She’d delivered them a little early, but they were healthy.
Sometimes, her father would joke and say that Ella and Eli ruined his retirement plans, but she knew the two of them were his pride and joy. Her mother and father had been wonderful parents, and Ella knew there were no two people on this earth who were kinder than or as loving as they were. The two had been her world, and when her mother was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s, she hadn’t hesitated on moving back in with them.
Ella was brought back to the present with a loud crash. A man stumbled through the clearing, his camouflage shirt and pants ragged and stained with something dark. Jackie Kincaid--roughly thirty years old, probably around 250 pounds, and normally a funny and sweet kind of guy, worked at the garage he co-owned with his brother Liam. That is, when he wasn’t poaching deer in the off season or drinking whiskey down at Black Eyed Pete’s. Ella eased the safety off of the Mossberg 12 gauge and stepped into the clearing. Jackie was pretty harmless, but she couldn’t be too careful.
“Jackie, drop your gun and put your hands on the truck bed. You know the drill,” Ella forcefully said as she made her way into the clearing. She snapped on her headlamp for a better view.
Jackie turned his eyes wide and bloodshot.
“Listen, El, you gotta call the cops. Some crazy shit’s gone down. My brother’s dead. Oh, dear Lord, Liam’s dead…” Jackie grabbed his head moaning and sobbing in loud, blubbering hiccups. She could see the snot trailing down his nose and into his mouth.
‘Stay where I can see you Jackie. Now, you got ten seconds to explain to me what the hell you mean by saying Liam’s dead,” Ella replied as she raised the gun and sighted it directly on Jackie. There was something about the look in his eyes that made her realize this was no joke. She felt the unease trickle down her back like a slither of perspiration.
“Jest, what I said, woman! Liam is dead--I didn’t kill him, though. That crazy fuckin’ Billy Spencer killed him, and he was gonna kill me too. You jest don’t understand what he did to Liam. Oh, Lord. Oh lord,” Jackie cried as he fell down on his knees and started saying the Lord’s Prayer.
Ella rolled her eyes and reached for her walkie.
“Bo, you there?” she asked the dispatcher who took care of the conservation office as well as the County Sheriff’s department.
“Go for Bo,” the squeaky voice of the twenty-year old dispatcher came back.
“Bo, I have a possible 10-91 out here in Dogwood Holler just past Fishtrap River. My location is the clearing by that old abandoned barn on Jim Meyers’ place. Requesting back up,” Ella said into her shoulder mic wondering if Bo even knew what a 10-91 was. Maybe she should have just called in on her cell phone, except the service out here was kind of shitty.
Silence...yep, poor kid was scrambling around to see what a 10-91 could possibly be.
“No shit...You got a murder?” the kid replied, awe in his voice.
Ella groaned. Now everybody listening to their scanner in the tri-county area knew what was going on. She was going to have a word with Sheriff Taylor about this kid.
“Bo, shut up and send any available units my way,” Ella muttered angrily into the receiver never taking her eyes off the praying Kincaid brother.
Ella walked over to Jackie, the leaves crunching beneath her boots. He’d finished his prayer and was now rocking back and forth on his knees, his eyes fixed on the tree line.
“Jackie, where’s Liam? What happened? Calm down a little and tell me. I can’t help him unless you let me know what’s going on.” It took a lot to spook the Kincaid brothers. They practically lived in these woods. People used to laughingly say the two had been raised by bears. They certainly dressed and smelled like it.
“Just what I done said, Ella. Billy killed him. He grabbed him by the arms and ripped his throat out. He fuckin’ started eatin’ him. Eatin’ him, Ella---He was eatin’ him. I don’t fuckin’ understand. Why would he fuckin’do that? It was like he had super-human strength. I hit him in the head with a branch, and it didn’t do nothing to him. He was a mad man, so I shot him. Ella-- he got back up. I fuckin’ shot him in the stomach, and he fuckin’ got back up!” Jackie screamed wildly, spittle flying from his mouth.
Ella was confused. She tried to imagine scrawny Bill Spencer taking down a burly man like Liam Kincaid. She just couldn’t see it. And eating him? Maybe Jackie was on meth or something. That had to be it. Ella remembered one time when her cousin Bobby Jack had confided he met the devil on one of his meth trips. Bobby was convinced it was true, so convinced in fact, he’d given up meth for good. That had to be it. The whole of Taylor’s Creek was either on heroin or crystal meth. She’d thought Liam and Jackie were different--a couple of good old boys, but hey, you just never knew.
“I left him, Ella, I jest left him there with Billy rippin’ out his guts and shit. What kind of brother am I?” Jackie cried piteously, snot continuing to run down his lip, into his mouth and over his yellow, crooked teeth. She almost couldn’t take him seriously; she was so grossed out by the sight.
Ella walked over and slapped a pair of handcuffs on one of Jackie’s arms. He didn’t even resist. He just looked at her with his big puppy dog eyes, still blubbering and snotting. She still felt a little nauseous looking at him. Jesus Christ, why did she get all the crazy shit? It was just her lucky day she guessed as she looked intently into Jackie’s eyes. Well, his pupils weren’t dilated, but that didn’t really mean anything. He could still be on something.
Ella walked Jackie over to the vehicle, opened the door and slapped the other cuff to the steering wheel.
“Okay, Jack-o, I’m cuffing you here in your truck. I’m going to shut the door, and I expect you to sit here without any drama,” she said as she grabbed the keys out of the ignition and pocketed them.
“Wait, Ella--You don’t think Billy is possessed? Ya know...by the devil? I mean, he was frothin’ at the mouth and shit. Jest like that girl on that poltergeist movie,” Jackie asked his eyes round and frightened.
“Uh,” Ella didn’t quite know what to say. “No, Jackie, I don’t think so. We’ll just have to see.”
Ella slammed the door and grabbed her gun from the hood where she’d placed it before confining Jackie to his truck. She pondered on whether she should look around in the woods or wait for backup. Haven’t you seen hundreds of horror movies? The person who goes off alone ends up dead. Except this was no horror movie. This was real life, and there were two men lying mortally wounded somewhere out in those woods. At least, according to Jackie, there were. If she could help save either man’s life, shouldn’t she try? Jackie had to be out of his mind or something. She couldn’t quite believe his tale of zombie-like behavior. That kind of thing didn’t happen. It just couldn’t happen.
Ella made a move to enter the trail where Jackie had emerged when Bill Spencer came staggering through. Ella gagged and took a few steps back. The man was covered in blood and reeked like a rotting corpse. His hair was matted, and if she weren’t mistaken, he had chunks of scalp missing. His eyes were bloodshot to the point they were almost solid red. His gaunt body was deathly pale and mottled looking. There was a gaping hole that indicated Jackie had indeed shot him. His intestines were visible and jiggled with each step he took. He grunted when he saw her. And, then he started running--at her.
“Bill, stand down. I’m not kidding. You need to stand down,” she yelled, taking a few more steps back and dropping to one knee as she simultaneously brought her gun up and aimed at him. Bill kept coming. It wasn’t a flat out run. It was more like a stumble or jog, but either way, he was coming too fast. She had to make a decision. She didn’t want to shoot him. Hell, she’d never killed anyone, even in the army--she hadn’t needed to.
“Bill, this is your last warning. I meant it. Stand down,” she screamed as he kept moving. Twenty feet...ten feet.
“Fuck!” she muttered as she aimed and pulled the trigger. Bill went down with the first shot.
Ella ran to his side. She hadn’t aimed for a kill shot. Still, a slug could do some damage. She knelt down by him, overpowered by the stench radiating from his decimated body.
“Uhhhhhh, mmmmmm, rrrrrrr,” he moaned, attempting to get up even though Ella had shot him in the leg. Ella pushed at him. In turn, Bill snapped at her, his teeth cracked and broken. What? The man had actually snapped at her with his teeth! She stood and backed up. Something wasn’t right. This was definitely all wrong, she thought as she backed up to the truck, feeling the hood ornament dig into her back. By this time, Bill had risen, despite the fact that his leg was obviously broken and he’d lost an insane amount of blood. He continued to amble toward her, a determined look on his face. Ella could hear Jackie shouting and praying inside the truck:
“Our father who art in heaven, shoot the muther fucker Ella, hallowed be thy name. Ella, shoot the motherfucker!!”
Ella racked the shotgun and aimed again--this time on Bill’s chest. Two bullets left. Why the fuck hadn’t she brought the handgun? Why had she brought her old deer hunting gun? Two bullets. What a fucking idiot she was. She squeezed the trigger.
Boom! Bill went down again. This time, Ella could see the whole in his chest cavity, his heart all but obliterated by the bullet. She hadn’t wanted to kill the man, but he’d left her no choice. Given what Jackie had told, Bill had already killed once.
“Bo, you there Bo? What is backup’s ETA?” she asked into her radio.
“Uh, ‘bout five minutes. You okay?” Bo asked, unnerved by the tone of Ella’s voice.
“No, no, no I’m not okay! I have another 10-91, and this time I’m the perpetrator,” she replied sick with what she’d just had to do. Oh, she’d seen death before, but she’d never really caused it on such a personal level.
“Lordy, Ella, what the fuck’s going on there?” squawked Bo, his voice breaking.
Ella didn’t have time to answer because the second bullet hadn’t kept Bill down. Ella gasped and looked on in horror as Bill slowly stood again and started lumbering toward her, his intestines finally succumbing to gravity and hanging on the outside of his body. She imagined that she could literally see through the hole she’d formed in his chest. What the fuck? What was going on here? That shot to the chest was enough to keep any man down. She’d shot his fucking heart out--he should be dead. There was no
option and no choice in the matter. Ella aimed with her final slug for Bill’s head and squeezed the trigger.
This time, Bill stayed down. After a couple of minutes, she dropped her gun and vomited into the bushes. Over and over, she expelled the contents of her stomach until she tasted bile. Even then, she continued to dry heave. She’d taken a man’s life. Was there anything she could have done differently? What was she going to tell Bill’s mother? His wife? She let out a huge breath and sank to the floor of the forest not even feeling the sharp rocks and twigs jabbing into her knees. She was ruined. He didn’t even have a weapon, and she hadn’t been carrying her standard issue. All of this because he’d tried to bite her? She’d killed a man because he’d tried to bite her. That’s what everyone would say. How fucked up was that? Ella knew without a doubt her life was changed forever.
Chapter 2: Roe’s Naughty Night
“I ain’t gonna let no nigger take care of me,” Maisie Wilson yelled, spittle flying from her mouth and hitting Roe in the face.
Roe snorted and rolled her eyes. Maisie Wilson was a seventy year old nursing home resident who hadn’t a single visitor in the six months Roe had been working at Taylor’s Creek Geriatric Center. This attitude was something Roe Lewis had encountered a lot in her twenty-five years as a registered nurse, and it wasn’t just in Tennessee. She’d received this treatment all over the country in northern states and southern states. When she was young, she used to get fired up, curse and even cry when people didn’t want her to touch them because of the color of her skin. Now, she mostly ignored it. She realized it for what it was--ignorance.
