peaceful. Without the grimacing and bizarre facial machinations of
psychotic agitation, she was actually pretty—and more youthful-looking.
Twenty-two or-three.
“Nice body,” Skeeter said. “Too bad
she was nuts.”
“Too bad she’s dead.”
“Yeah, that too. Let’s find where
the snake bit her.”
Skeeter bent close to the body and
began looking for fang marks. He checked her legs and ankles first. “There,” he
said, pointing to the discolored area of flesh just above her right ankle.
“That’s where it got her. Can’t really see the holes, but that dark patch there
is where the poison started killing off her cells. Necrosis.”
“Got her here too,” Joe Rob said,
pointing out the same discoloration on the edge of her right hand. “Probably a
defensive wound.”
“Yeah. That’s pretty good,
Sherlock. And after it bit her, she panicked and started running and that sped
the poison through her system. She was fucked from the get-go.”
“Never had a chance.”
“Seen enough?” asked Skeeter.
“Yeah. Just...give me a minute
alone with her.”
“Jeez, make up your mind will ya?
Hey, man, you ain’t into necrophilia are you?”
“What’s that?”
“Corpse fucking.”
“Fuck you, no. Just leave us
alone.”
“All right. Just don’t get all
weirded out.” Skeeter turned toward the door. “And cover her up when you’re
done.”
When Skeeter was out in the
hallway, Joe Rob touched the dead woman’s forehead, then stroked her hair. “I’m
sorry,” he whispered. “I only wanted to help you. I didn’t know....”
His voice broke in a sob. He
withdrew his hand from her hair, pulled the sheet over her, then walked away,
turning out the light as he left the room.
“Feel better now?” asked Skeeter.
He was leaning against the wall beneath a painting of a covered bridge.
“Not really.” He wiped the corner
of his eye.
Skeeter shrugged. “Life’s a bitch.”
“And then you die.”
Skeeter switched off the hall
lights and moved toward the back door. Joe Rob followed blindly through the
inky darkness, anxious now to be gone from this death-haunted place. The thick
carpet muffled their footsteps, but the old hardwood floor creaked and groaned
with their passage. The house seemed alive with ghostly murmurs.
Then the back door opened to the
sultry night, and Joe Rob felt as though he couldn’t get out of the
suffocating, creaking building fast enough. He hurried past Skeeter, bumping
him into the door frame, and stepped outside. He took several deep breaths to
clear the formaldehyde fumes from his lungs.
“What the hell’s wrong with you?”
demanded Skeeter.
“Nothing. I just had to get outta
there. Place was choking me.”
“You’re losing it, man.” Skeeter
shut and locked the back door.
They clattered down the back stairs
and piled into Skeeter’s truck, which was parked on the gravel drive in front
of the shut-up garage housing the two hearses. After three attempts, the
pickup’s engine finally turned over and rumbled to life.
“Gotta get this thing tuned up,”
Skeeter said. “Needs a new set of points bad.”
“Whadaya think she meant by ‘the
dark thing’?”
“What?”
“The girl. Jessica. That shit she
was saying about ‘the dark thing.’ Remember? First she said it knew where she
was. But after I shot Odell she said it didn’t want her. It wanted me.”
“Jesus, J.R. The bitch was
loony-tunes. Forget that shit. It don’t mean nothing.”
“I don’t know, man. I almost
believed her. I mean, sure she was crazy, but the way she said it, it was real .”
“Yeah, you’re losing it.”
“She pointed her finger at me and I
swear I could almost feel it. Like she was...directing it to me.”
“Feel what?”
“The dark thing! What the fuck ya
think?”
“I think whatever she had must’ve
been contagious, and you caught a bad case of it.” Skeeter grinned to let him
know he was joking. “Keep talking like that, you’ll end up in
psychotic agitation, she was actually pretty—and more youthful-looking.
Twenty-two or-three.
“Nice body,” Skeeter said. “Too bad
she was nuts.”
“Too bad she’s dead.”
“Yeah, that too. Let’s find where
the snake bit her.”
Skeeter bent close to the body and
began looking for fang marks. He checked her legs and ankles first. “There,” he
said, pointing to the discolored area of flesh just above her right ankle.
“That’s where it got her. Can’t really see the holes, but that dark patch there
is where the poison started killing off her cells. Necrosis.”
“Got her here too,” Joe Rob said,
pointing out the same discoloration on the edge of her right hand. “Probably a
defensive wound.”
“Yeah. That’s pretty good,
Sherlock. And after it bit her, she panicked and started running and that sped
the poison through her system. She was fucked from the get-go.”
“Never had a chance.”
“Seen enough?” asked Skeeter.
“Yeah. Just...give me a minute
alone with her.”
“Jeez, make up your mind will ya?
Hey, man, you ain’t into necrophilia are you?”
“What’s that?”
“Corpse fucking.”
“Fuck you, no. Just leave us
alone.”
“All right. Just don’t get all
weirded out.” Skeeter turned toward the door. “And cover her up when you’re
done.”
When Skeeter was out in the
hallway, Joe Rob touched the dead woman’s forehead, then stroked her hair. “I’m
sorry,” he whispered. “I only wanted to help you. I didn’t know....”
His voice broke in a sob. He
withdrew his hand from her hair, pulled the sheet over her, then walked away,
turning out the light as he left the room.
“Feel better now?” asked Skeeter.
He was leaning against the wall beneath a painting of a covered bridge.
“Not really.” He wiped the corner
of his eye.
Skeeter shrugged. “Life’s a bitch.”
“And then you die.”
Skeeter switched off the hall
lights and moved toward the back door. Joe Rob followed blindly through the
inky darkness, anxious now to be gone from this death-haunted place. The thick
carpet muffled their footsteps, but the old hardwood floor creaked and groaned
with their passage. The house seemed alive with ghostly murmurs.
Then the back door opened to the
sultry night, and Joe Rob felt as though he couldn’t get out of the
suffocating, creaking building fast enough. He hurried past Skeeter, bumping
him into the door frame, and stepped outside. He took several deep breaths to
clear the formaldehyde fumes from his lungs.
“What the hell’s wrong with you?”
demanded Skeeter.
“Nothing. I just had to get outta
there. Place was choking me.”
“You’re losing it, man.” Skeeter
shut and locked the back door.
They clattered down the back stairs
and piled into Skeeter’s truck, which was parked on the gravel drive in front
of the shut-up garage housing the two hearses. After three attempts, the
pickup’s engine finally turned over and rumbled to life.
“Gotta get this thing tuned up,”
Skeeter said. “Needs a new set of points bad.”
“Whadaya think she meant by ‘the
dark thing’?”
“What?”
“The girl. Jessica. That shit she
was saying about ‘the dark thing.’ Remember? First she said it knew where she
was. But after I shot Odell she said it didn’t want her. It wanted me.”
“Jesus, J.R. The bitch was
loony-tunes. Forget that shit. It don’t mean nothing.”
“I don’t know, man. I almost
believed her. I mean, sure she was crazy, but the way she said it, it was real .”
“Yeah, you’re losing it.”
“She pointed her finger at me and I
swear I could almost feel it. Like she was...directing it to me.”
“Feel what?”
“The dark thing! What the fuck ya
think?”
“I think whatever she had must’ve
been contagious, and you caught a bad case of it.” Skeeter grinned to let him
know he was joking. “Keep talking like that, you’ll end up in
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