AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I looked down at the haunch, mostly hidden in the long grass. I managed a laugh. "I guess this is like a house cat bringing its owner a dead mouse?"
Rafe didn't laugh back. As I turned, I saw he wasn't even smiling, just staring after Marv.
"We should get back to the house," I said.
I expected him to make a joke about the cougar spoiling the mood, but he just nodded as he stared into the forest.
"Hey," I said, stepping toward him. "You still with me?"
"Sorry." He swung his gaze back toward me. "That's just ... not good."
"He's too bold, I know. My dad's going to need to deal with--"
I stopped. He was staring again--this time at the ground behind me. I turned to see what had caught his attention.
"Don't--" he began.
Too late. Having stepped away from whatever Marv had dropped, I could now see it more clearly through the long grass. Or see part of it. Fingers.
I stood there, thoughts stuttering. I had to be wrong. Of course I was wrong. I'd seen a deer foreleg--a hairless ...
Oh God.
I stepped forward. Rafe didn't try to stop me, and we both crouched for a better look. There, in the grass, lay a human forearm. Only two fingers were still attached. The rest--and most of the arm itself--had been--
My gorge rose. I swallowed hard and closed my eyes. Rafe's fingers touched my elbow.
"Give me your phone," he said. "I'll--"
"I've got it."
I straightened and took a deep breath. Then I took out my cell phone, opened it, and swore, the words coming out shaky.
"No signal," I said. "We need to get back down the cliff." I glanced at the arm. "We can't leave that, though. A scavenger will get it. We need something to carry it in."
Rafe plucked the hem of his shirt, like he was ready to pull it off. He stopped, though, and said, "We can grab my jacket."
His shirt would have been easier, but it was white, and I guess he was thinking he couldn't afford a new one if it got stained. Yet our jackets were also at the bottom of the cliff, which didn't solve the problem. Finally, we agreed to have him stand watch over the arm while I zipped down the cliff, made the call, and came back.
That was the plan anyway. Only I couldn't get reception at the bottom either. So I tied our jackets around my waist and went up.
I should have only brought my jacket. If it was stained, my parents would buy me a new one. Rafe, however, insisted on using his. He did let me help get the arm on it, which consisted of one person holding the jacket and the other rolling the forearm with a stick, and, yes, it was as bad as it sounds. The only thing that made it bearable was that, if I didn't look at the fingers, it was chewed too badly to tell it was an arm.
On second thought, no, that didn't make it better. My nightmares would definitely have fresh fodder now. But I managed to help Rafe without puking, and he didn't suggest I let him handle it by himself. I appreciated that.
He carried it, though, which was fine by me. I took guard duty--armed with a stick and scanning the forest for any flash of fur.
It was a quiet walk. We knew we were carrying the remains of a person killed by a cougar. Someone was dead and we had no idea who it was. For now, it was easier to think this was an anonymous corpse from some other town, scavenged by the cougar.
We'd almost reached the top of the cliff when Rafe turned, his face lifting slightly, catching the wind.
"Do you smell that?" he asked.
I could smell the arm, that was for sure. That was another thing I was trying not to think about. When I turned, though, I caught the same stink of decomposition on the breeze.
"We should take a look," I said.
The stink got stronger with each step. Finally, in the trees ahead, I saw a cougar cache--a kill covered with branches. I noticed something blue dangling from a branch. A torn piece of denim.
