“I’m not disagreeing with you. But you gotta calm down. Let’s think our way through this.”

Andrew’s hand throbbed. It felt as if he might have broken something. His knuckles were on fire.

“What’s there to think through? The assholes win. I hope they’re happy, breaking a sick woman’s heart. If I ever get ahold of them, I’ll…I’ll…”

The knot of rage caught in his throat.

“Ryker? Andy? You guys out there?”

It was Nikki. Andrew could just make her out, standing on the front porch.

“We gotta get you inside and get that hand wrapped up,” Ryker said.

“I’m not ready to go inside just yet.”

“I’ll stay out here with you.”

He patted Ryker’s shoulder with his good hand. “No, you go. Just tell Nikki I’m out running like a lunatic. When I come back, I’ll say I fell or something.”

“Okay. I’ll play it any way you want. I still think you need to get the cops back while all the evidence is still here.”

Andrew didn’t respond. Should he tell him about the rabbit and squirrels? He turned away from Ryker, staring deep into the woods. He stayed that way for the better part of an hour, his anger still burning white hot. The sheriff and his deputies might handle this, but it would be very impersonal. He wanted the chance to meet these sick assholes face-to-face.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Kate tried to get up and join civilization. She really did. But every time she opened her eyes, it was like some invisible hand was forcing her eyelids back down. Those brief moments of wakefulness also came with a heightened awareness of pain, her muscles and joints incredibly sore, every nerve agitated and raw.

It was better to sleep.

Part of her felt it was weird, her curled on the bed, cradling her Mooshy, while Andrew, Ryker, and Nikki walked and talked around her. Another part found it comforting, making it easier for her to doze through a day that only promised to be miserable.

She caught snatches of conversation, but they were folded into her dreams until she was no longer sure what was real and what was her imagination.

* * *

Copper.

Her mouth was filled with the acrid tang of copper.

Kate opened her lips, expecting old pennies to pour out as if she were a slot machine.

Blood flowed between her shaking fingers. So much blood.

Kate gagged.

Something was caught in her throat.

Her back hitched, stomach convulsing, eager to push the thing in her throat out.

Sitting up, she vomited between her legs, blood and bile pooling in the sheet.

Within the obscene mess, she saw bones. Tiny bones bobbed on the waves of putrescence that spilled from her, and kept spilling until she felt her organs would implode.

Why won’t it stop?