Cruel Justice

21

CARLEE RUMMAGED THROUGH THE cardboard box she had stuffed with canned food before they left Tulsa. Unfortunately, nothing miraculously appeared that hadn’t been there the day before. Their dinner options were still severely limited. Baked beans, chili beans, and everyone’s favorite: lima beans.

Carlee juggled the three cans. Eeeny, meeny, miney, moe …

Dave crawled into the tent on all fours. “How’s my favorite cook?” He pinched her on the rear.

She tried to feign irritation. “Likely to be replaced, if we don’t drive into town for more supplies soon.”

Dave wrapped his arms around her and kissed her on the back of the neck. “Aw, we’d never replace you. Who’d make the s’mores?” He squeezed her tightly, then rolled her over onto her back. “So … how are you feeling?”

She knew what he meant, what he really wanted to know. Neither of them had mentioned the incident, but he’d been watching her carefully. He’d been scrupulously courteous and accommodating—more so than she cared for. He was obviously worried. Worried that his beloved wife of nine years was losing her marbles.

“What are the kids doing?” she asked as she ran her fingertips down his shirt.

“Gavin is looking for fossils. There’s some species of dinosaur with a name far too long for me to remember that he says lived in the Arbuckles sixty-five million years ago. He wants to find a fossil.”

“I didn’t know there were any dinosaurs in Oklahoma.”

“Me neither, but if Gavin says there were, it must be so.”

“What about Ethan?” She put down the bean cans and began massaging Dave’s neck.

“Ethan is looking for lizards.”

“Lizards? What on earth would he want with lizards?”

“I’m not certain, but given his perverse sense of humor, which I maintain he inherited from your side of the family, I rather suspect an elaborate prank is being contemplated.”

“I hope I’m not the intended victim.” She rolled over until she was lying almost directly on top of him. “So whaddaya say, lover boy? Wanna quickie?”

“Tempting, tempting. But I’m well aware of the fact that the second we decide to go for it Gavin will be in here asking if rattlesnakes are poisonous. Besides, before it gets too dark, I need to chop some wood so we can have a campfire tonight. Rain check, okay?”

He gently lifted her up and rolled out from under her. She marveled once more at his strength, both inner and outer, and his eternal good nature. She was so lucky to have him. That she, a poor girl from the sticks, should end up with a guy who makes a decent living and was pretty nice to boot—well, it was more than she had ever expected out of life. She was one of the lucky ones, and she knew it.

If there was to be no romantic rendezvous, she might as well get supper on. Lima beans it was. If they complained, she’d bribe them with the prospect of toasted marshmallows. It was a mother’s prerogative.

She clambered out of the tent and pushed herself quickly to her feet. Too quickly. The blood rushed to her head. She felt woozy; her vision blurred.

Trying to regain her balance, she looked out toward the center of their camp. She could see the hazy outline of her husband, standing, facing away from her. He was doing … something. Raising something over his head, bringing it down hard. Raising it, bringing it down. Raising it, bringing it down. Hard. It thumped upon impact like … like …

Her vision blurred even more, and then she wasn’t looking at her husband anymore. She was looking through the window—that window—and she was seeing it all acted out once again. The person facing away from her was holding something, something thin and metallic, raising it overhead, and then—

The club came down with the force of a sledgehammer and thudded onto the woman’s head. Once more the club went into the sky, and once more it came down, even harder than before.

The woman screamed. Her voice was thick and foreign. Her words were incomprehensible, but her voice was etched with pain. The club went down again, this time with such force that it snapped in two.

Carlee was horrified; she didn’t want to watch, but found she couldn’t look away. The assailant picked up the broken shaft, reared back like a twisted javelin thrower, and thrust the shaft through the woman’s neck.

And then it happened—the blood. Dark blood spurted from the carotid artery, splashing the walls, the floor, her clothes, her face. Everything. The sticky black mess coated the room and the sickly sweet smell drifted out the window to Carlee and the woman screamed and screamed and screamed. …

Carlee crumpled into a heap on the ground, facedown in the dirt. She wept in great heaving waves, her entire body trembling. She felt as if she would never stop crying, never could stop crying.

“Carlee! What is it? My God, what’s wrong with you?”

She heard Dave’s voice, but it was so far away, so distant, not even real, not even real.

“Carlee, answer me. Answer me!”

“Dave?” she answered, in the barest of whispers.

“Are you all right?”

She looked up, and there he was, bending over her, his voice insistent. He was obviously terrified.

“I’ll be all right,” she said. She tried to be reassuring. “I’m fine.”

“You said that before.” His concern gave his voice an unnatural edge. “What’s wrong with you?”

“I—” She shook her head back and forth. “I just don’t know.” She rose up on one knee and crawled into his arms. “Hold me, Dave. Please.”

He took hold of her and squeezed tightly. “I was just cutting the firewood and all of a sudden I heard you scream and I turned around and you were lying on the ground and—and—” His voice broke off as if it had nowhere to go. “What’s happening to you?”

“I—” Carlee closed her eyes. Yes, it was still there. The blood-soaked corner. The screaming woman. The golf club.

It was all still there.

She could remember this time.

“I saw something,” she said simply.

“Saw something? You mean—like a vision?”

“No.” Her voice choked. “Like a memory.”

“A memory? Of what?”

“Of something horrible.” Her eyes darkened. “Something I saw a long time ago, then forgot. Until now.”