Chapter Thirteen

Hogg Hell Day Three

B y the time Jeb and his sons returned home, his throat burned with a fire that wouldn’t ease. Sweat dripped from every pore, soaking his clothes, and a sour odor clung to him; a stench he couldn’t escape. He staggered into the kitchen and grabbed another jug of water, desperate to quench his thirst. As soon as he raised it to his mouth, his throat seized. He gagged and spat the water across the room, coughing and choking violently.

Saliva pooled in his mouth, thick and uncontrollable. His hands shook as he wiped it away, a cold dread sinking in. Then it hit him like a thunderclap .

His bitch of a wife was poisoning him.

“Where are you, Susan?” he bellowed, his voice cracking with rage.

“Da, what’s wrong?” one of his sons asked, stepping forward hesitantly.

“Get the fuck away from me, or I’ll kill you too!” Jeb roared, storming past him, his breath ragged as he searched the house for his wife.

He headed for the bedroom first, but Susan wasn’t there. He knew her hiding spots. Swinging open Carrie’s closet door, he found her crouched inside, trembling.

“There you are!” He grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked her out, her screams cutting through the air like a knife.

“Shut the hell up!” he shouted, slamming his hand across her face. Her head snapped to the side, and her cries turned to whimpers. He struck her again, this time with his fist, the blow landing hard against her temple. Her body crumpled, but he wasn’t done.

Jeb dragged her up by her hair, her feet barely brushing the floor. She clawed at his hands, gasping for breath. “What are you poisoning me with?” he growled, his face inches from hers, his spit flecking her skin.

Her wide, terrified eyes said she couldn’t answer even if she wanted to. He shook her violently, slamming her head against the wall with each shout. “Tell me! Answer me, goddamn it! ”

Susan’s eyes rolled back, and her body went limp. He let go, and she collapsed in a heap. Her skull cracked against the floor with a sickening thud.

Jeb stood over her, his chest heaving, then kicked her ribs with enough force to send her sliding across the floor. Her body didn’t move. He didn’t care.

His arm itched furiously. He clawed at it, tearing open a wound he didn’t remember getting. Blood oozed from the jagged scratches, and he stared at it, trying to make sense of why it was there.

“Where’s Carrie?” he shouted, his voice echoing through the house as he stormed out of the room. “Where is that bitch?”

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. The memory 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.