Page 26 of Blood Ties
The shack is a tiny, sagging building, leaning so heavily to one side that it’s a wonder it’s still standing. The roof is caved in at one corner, and the paint has all peeled away in the humidity to reveal bare wood and metal beneath. I swallow hard before knocking on the door. When there’s no answer, I peel through the filth-streaked window. All I can see inside are the usual piles of junk and garbage.
I nudge the door with my shoulder, take one step inside, and gag at the stink. Sweat, old food, beer, and decay. The place is rancid, but at least Frank isn’t here. I look around for a clean surface to set my offerings, and settle for the couch, which sags in the middle where he usually sits. Aside from the path from the door to the couch, and from there to the bed, the room is utterly covered in piles of junk. Old beer cans and whiskey bottles, cardboard boxes and trash bags, dirty clothes and God knows what else. It’s overwhelming to look at it all, especially with my eyes watering from the stink. Is something dead in here? Sure smells like it.
Minutes trickle by as I search through the trash piles, terrified that one wrong move will send everything toppling over and crush me beneath the garbage. The smell gets worse, as do my nerves. Any minute now, Frank could come back, and he might be in one of his violent moods. I have to hurry.
Finally, my gaze falls on the bed. The one place I haven’t checked yet. I drop to my knees on the creaking floorboards, and lean down to peek beneath it.
My heart surges as I see a blue denim backpack. And behind it, pushed against the wall, is...
Blonde hair. Tan skin gone greenish and bloated. The source of the stink.
I gag, pressing a hand to my mouth as I recoil.Fuck. I assumed Frank would get rid of May’s corpse when he was done doing... what he does with the bodies. Instead he seems to be letting it rot.
I stay on my knees for a second, breathing through my mouth, working up my willpower. Then I go back under the bed, pull out the backpack while trying to avoid looking at the body. I drag the bag toward the door, gagging again.
I step backwards into blessedly fresh air — and then I slam into a wall of flesh. The impact sends me stumbling, but a meaty fist grabs me by the hair and wrenches me upright.
I grit my teeth. “H...Hey, Uncle Frank.”
He just stares at me with those tiny, dead eyes.
“I brought you some bacon,” I say, “and some beer.”
His gaze drops to the bag at my feet. His fingers clench tighter around my hair. It feels like he’s going to rip it right out of my scalp, but I know better than to try to fight him. “I h-have to get rid of this,” I gasp out, standing on my tip-toes. “You know it’s my job. This bag wasn’t even hers, Frank, it’s Riley’s.”
He scowls at me. I breathe through the pain.
“I can take care of the body too,” I say. “My... my dad told me to. You want me to go get him?”
After a moment’s consideration, Frank grunts and lets me go. I settle back onto my heels with a small sigh of relief, and he bangs through the door to his shack. As I bend down to gather the backpack, he emerges again, tosses May’s body out at my feet, and then slams the door shut in my face.
I stare down at the bloated corpse, swallowing bile.
“Yeah,” I mutter. “Thanks.”
*
WHEN I’M DONE GETTINGrid of May’s body, I scrub myself raw in the shower. It feels like the stink will never come out of my skin. It’s gotten into Riley’s backpack, too, especially the clothes. I wash them as well as I can, and hang them out to dry.
Nothing else I can do. It’s not like I can go into town and buy women’s clothing. I don’t have any money, and even if I did, people will notice, in a town this small. They’ll ask questions. Or think about those strangers who came in to get their car fixed and disappeared overnight. I know it’s selfish of me, but I’m not ready to get the police involved.
Dad, Uncle Frank, Knox, me... We all deserve to be locked up. I’ve got no delusions about that.
But Momma? I can’t leave her alone. Who’s going to take care of her if we’re gone?
My stomach twists with guilt as I realize I’ve barely visited her since all of this began. Has anyone been feeding her? I quickly fix up some canned soup in the microwave, head up the second floor, and knock on the attic hatch before pulling down the ladder.
“Momma? It’s Kai. I’m coming up.”
As always, she’s sitting in bed, staring out the window with a blank sort of smile on her face. She looks peaceful, but there’s a disconcerting emptiness in her eyes. She’s thinner than ever, her skin so pale and papery it’s nearly translucent, her hair nothing more than fine wisps around her head.
“Hi, Momma.” I crouch at her bedside. “Sorry I haven’t been by much. Knox been feeding you?”
No answer. Not that I expect one.
“You hungry?” I ask. “Here, eat something. You need your strength.”
She accepts a spoonful of soup when I coax her, but it soon starts dribbling down her chin.
