After some persuading, Jim finally set the shotgun
onto the ground beside the chair he was sitting in. The blood began
to flow back into his knuckles restoring some of the color to them.
“Alright Jim,” said the sheriff. “Why don't you
tell us what happened.”
Jim sighed and reached into his pocket for a smoke.
His hands shook as he grasped the cigarette and placed it to his
mouth. He lit it and took a long drag.
“Well... There I was watchin' TV when Dick woke
up. He started clamorin' for you Jessie.” Jim said looking over
to Jessie. His eyes were met with Jessie's cold, cracked eyes. He
redirected his gaze to his hand which rested on his leg, the smoke
from the cigarette twisting its way toward the ceiling. “So I
tells him yer out with the sheriff and deputy cause, uh, of well you
know, Parker. Next thing I know he's pacin' around and drivin' me up
a wall. I's like 'Dick, chill out man', and he tells me he can't
find his weed,” Jim paused to take another long drag off his
cigarette. Ash formed at the end of the cigarette as the cherry
crawled its way up toward the filter.
“So I tells him you took his pot, sheriff. Well he
gets all pissy that I didn't stop you and storms outta the cabin,”
Jim said turning his head in the direction of the sheriff.
“The next thing I know hes yellin' like a maniac,
real crazy shit like 'Oh god it's got me!'. So I go and grab the
gun. I come runnin' out here and see somethin' out the front door.
I didn't get a good look at it, but it was huge. I think... I think
it was glowin'. Next thing I know the gun goes off tearing that hole
in the frame,” Jim pointed at the front door, the cigarette
clasped between his pointer and middle fingers. “That creature...
it looks me straight in the eyes I turn off the light and dive behind
the corner to reload.” Jim rubbed out the the stub of the
cigarette in the ashtray, then proceeded to pull out another and
light it. There was complete silence as he took several more drags
off of it.
“What happened next Jim?” said Deputy Smith.
Jim hung his head, gazing his feet. “I just sat
there... I... I couldn't move.”
Jessie sprang to her feet and slapped Jim across the
face, “You let him die! How could you just- sit and let him die!”
As she took another swing at him, the deputy grabbed a hold of her
and dragged her to another room. Jessie's screams morphed into sobs
as the door closed behind them.
Jim sat on the couch, his head bowed. The room was
silent except for the sound of the sheriff's shoes as he paced across
the floor.
“Boy you've either lost your mind or you think I'm
stupid,” scoffed the sheriff. “I don't know what yer tryin' to
pull here, but there ain't no glowing creatures out there gobblin' up
yer friends like a Sunday mornin' buffet.”
Jim looked up at the sheriff, mouth agape.
The sheriff looked at Roger. “Tell the deputy
after she gets your friend calmed down that I'm bringing Jimmy here
down to the station,” The sheriff picked up his beer then grabbed
Jim by the collar and dragged him to his feet and pushed him out the
door. “We ain't had nobody murdered in two years, and you somehow
managed to knock off two in one night.” The door slammed shut
behind the sheriff.
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