Page 43 of Rough
My dog is sniffing around the lawn for a good place to do her morning business, then just before she comes back to my side, she pauses, and her ears perk up. She does that thing where her tail starts the slow wag before it picks up faster and I see headlights flashing far away, past the field where the trail to the pond is.
“Well, shoot. They’re comin’ back.” I mutter to myself, then decide I don’t feel much like facing off with them so early in the morning. The caffeine hasn’t done its job yet, so unless they want a cranky Betsy, I’ll do them a favor and disappear into the barn.
Pushing the door open, I frown when I notice that the latch is undone. “The hell?”
Latching the door was ingrained in my brain by Pap. He always said to make sure the barns were shut tight in case the cattle or horses ever got out of their stalls. Don’t want them running free in the middle of the night. It’s also why we always pull the cows in every evening. Them getting free the other day was a fluke, and one I won’t let happen again. I’ve taken to running the fence every morning now before putting them to field. I still haven’t figured out who damaged the fence, and it’s something I may never learn.
Stepping further inside, I flip the lights on, smiling when I hear the soft snorts and whinnies of the horses. They know when those lights go on, it’s time for food.
As I stop at each stall, a sense of unease crawls over me. Something seems off, but I can’t put my finger on what feels different. I hear the engine of the guys’ SUV grow louder outside, but I ignore it when I notice that they’ve shut off the engine, silence once again.
That’s it.
That’s what’s wrong.
It’s too quiet. But why? What am I not hearing?
I start scanning everything, trying to figure out what I’m not hearing until my eyes fall on my commercial grade freezer. Technically, it’s a nitrogen cryogenic freezer; one that I was able to purchase used when a medical facility a few towns over closed down. I spent five thousand dollars on it.
My freezer is hanging open with no lights shining; no hum of the motor to keep the years’ worth of bull sperm samples I’ve been collecting frozen.
So much money, so muchvalue, all tied up in that thing.
The sound of footsteps behind me doesn’t register as I hesitantly step closer, trying to figure out how thefuckit’s hanging open. It’s not like it just opens like a regular refrigerator or freezer. It takes conscious effort to open it.
“Bets…”
I don’t know which one of them called my name. I can’t tell over the sound of the blood rushing behind my ears as my heartbeat kicks up to a worrisome pace. A bitter smell seeps into my nose and I cover it as I continue to investigate.
“Country, we were drunk.”
I can hear his words, but again, I can’t focus on who’s speaking them to me. The meaning behind them doesn’t make any sense. I open my mouth to ask him to repeat himself when my eyes fall on the plug to the freezer lying in the dirt, a foot from the outlet.
I suck in a quick gasp, trying to catch my breath as my throat feels like it’s closing up.The manual. The manual is in the back office.I like to keep it close just in case I have questions when I’m using it. Running to the back of the barn, I slam my hands on the door and shove it open.
Pap stuck an old desk out here that someone was tossing out, so it’s where I stored the manual to protect it from moisture or water leaks. Wrenching the drawer open, I dig through random papers until I find it and drop it on the wooden surface to start paging through the book, desperate to find something to tell me how to fix this.
I don’t even know how long it’s been down. At least twelve hours.Fuck, was it longer?Last time I was in here was before I took off to meet with the mayor.
This time, I recognize Wilder’s voice from the doorway to the office.
“Bets, we need—”
Without looking at him, I hold up a hand to stop him from distracting me. “Sshh. I need to figure this out.”
He tries again. “But Bets, we—”
Slamming my hands on the desk, I wrench my head away from the manual to glare at him. “Stop!Ihaveto figure this out!”
The different emotions written across his face confuse me. Anguish. Regret. Embarrassment. Shame.
My wide eyes begin to narrow as I lower my chin to stare at him. I don’t blink. I don’tbreathe. But he knowsIknow that this was them. His eyes follow my hand as it slides to the edge of my desk, where there’s a small space between it and the wall.
My fingers curl around my pellet gun. I keep it here to get rid of vermin sneaking around the barn. I’ve got my guns locked up in the safe back at the house, but damn, I wish I had my shotgun right now.
Wilder swallows audibly as he steps back, holding his hands up like he’s going to ward me off. “Listen,” he pleads.
“What are you doin’?” I hear Clyde ask from somewhere nearby, but I don’t take my eyes from Wilder. I guaran-fucking-teeRemy is still out there with them and he’s lucky I can’t see his face right now.
