James Chase - We'll Share A Double Funeral

Sheila came out of the blackout in a few seconds. For a long moment, she remained motionless, then she looked at Brown.

The light from the dashboard was still functioning. The big moon was also lighting the scene.

Oh, no, you ape! she thought. Not a double funeral!

She snatched her handbag from the map pocket and tore at the zipper. The zipper moved halfway, then jammed. With her eyes still on Brown, she tore at the bag’s opening.

With frantic strength, she got the bag open, snatched out the gun as Brown shook his head and turned towards her. She pointed the gun at him and pulled the trigger. The gun banged. She saw him rear back in his seat. She fired again, then again. Each time Brown half reared up and fell back.

She saw small red blotches on his white shirt which blossomed into big patches of blood.

Triumphant, she leaned forward, staring at him. She watched him, blood now saturating his shirt. She saw him struggling to sit up. She saw his eyes open.

“Like it, Jimmy Brown?” she said breathlessly. “Like it the way you killed decent, innocent people? Die! Suffer!”

Brown’s eyes focussed. He stared at her. Blood began to dribble out of the side of his mouth. He tried to say something, but blood now began to pour out of his mouth, and he only made choking sounds.

“Go on, die, you stinking ape!” she screamed at him.

Gathering his enormous strength, his evil grin a grimace, Brown’s left fist swung up. He hit Sheila a crushing blow on the side of her jaw. Her head snapped back, breaking her neck, and she slumped back on the seat of the jeep.

They found them after a five hour search.

When it was realized that Logan wasn’t heading for Jacksonville, Jenner had diverted his men to search the forest.

Perry and Ross sat in the patrol car, listening to the police radio. Finally a voice came through.

“We’ve located the jeep,” Jenner said, and gave directions.

Ross set the car in motion and, after a few minutes, drove up the dirt road.

Perry sat still, his heart thumping. Ross pulled up where Carl Jenner was standing. “It’s over,” Jenner said.

Perry scrambled out of the car. “My wife?”

“I’m sorry, Mr Weston. Better not go up there,” Jenner said quietly.

Perry brushed by him and ran the few yards to the wrecked jeep.

Several State police were standing around. They just stood, watching.

Perry reached the jeep and peered in.

He saw Brown, his eyes fixed in a defiant glare. Blood made him a horrible and grotesque figure. Perry’s eyes moved to Sheila.

She lay back, his gun still in her hand. In death, her expression was almost serene.