Whoever had been out here had had a field day using the house as target practice.

He’d shown them he wasn’t going to take it lying down anymore (despite the fact he was lying down at the moment). That had to scare them off. Look how terrified he’d been just being on the safe end of the rifle.

Buttons barked, eager to get back inside. Andrew had to grip the tree to pull himself up.

Should he go up on the roof later and sweep those rocks off? He remembered seeing a ladder on the other side of the house. The roof was slanted, but it wasn’t high up. If he left the rocks up there, they’d roll into the gutter and there’d be issues when the next storm came rolling in.

Tomorrow. I don’t trust my legs to go up there today.

All he wanted to do was shower, get comfortable, and slide into bed next to Kate.

He saw the rabbit just as he was reaching down to pet Buttons.

It had been bent in half, its hind legs tangled up in its ears. There was no blood other than a slight stain at its mouth.

Why the fuck would someone do that?

Buttons spotted the rabbit too, and darted over to sniff it.

“Get away from there.”

He crouched down to get a better look. It was white with black spots and lean, not like the kind people kept as pets. He’d have to bury it before Buttons used it as a chew toy or Kate saw it. She loved animals, and the sight of the folded bunny would set her to tears. That meant he’d have to look for a shovel. If he couldn’t find one, he’d head to the hardware store in town.

For now, it would have to be left to the elements. If he was lucky, a scavenger would cart it off and save him the trouble.

Dusting off his jeans, he noticed the rabbit was not alone. Ten feet away, by the tree line, was a pile of dead squirrels crammed into the hollow of a dead, gnarled tree, the top half of it sheered off a considerable time ago. There had to be at least a dozen squirrels in there, their broken bodies jammed into the small opening.

An animal didn’t do that. Animals didn’t stockpile their kills. Not like that.

Holding Buttons by the collar so he wouldn’t tear into the squirrels, Andrew felt his gorge rise when he saw they were all missing their heads.

He was suddenly very glad he’d bought the rifle.

Even more so that the sick son of a bitch who’d done this knew he had it.

* * *