Ray Gorham - Daunting Days of Winter

By the time she reached her neighbors’ farm, the fire had mostly burned itself out, the hay barn now a smoldering pile of ash that stirred in the breeze and left dark blots of ash on the patches of snow that surrounded it. From the drive she could see a spray of dark splatters on the white vinyl siding, along with a mound behind the rails of the front porch. She knew what she would find, but approached the house anyway.

The bodies lay to the side of the front door, Lloyd on the bottom, his rifle beside him, and Fanny sprawled face down on top of Lloyd, their blood pooling together on the weathered deck boards. Fanny’s long, gray hair fanned down and covered Lloyd’s face. They had celebrated their forty-fifth wedding anniversary the previous June with a cruise to the Bahamas, and Rose had been sure they’d have many more, but that was before. Now nothing was sure. The world was in a slow motion collapse, and not only couldn’t she stop it, and she couldn’t even get off.

As she walked back to her horse, Rose assessed her situation. Her dog was dead, as were her closest neighbors. The surrounding ranches and farms were being abandoned. There was a dead man in her driveway and men somewhere nearby who were injured, angry, motivated to kill her. Everything was changing so fast. Her existence, boring and mundane as it was, was shredded and wrenched from her control in the course of a morning, thrown into the hands of others who didn’t know or care about Rose Duncan. But she still had the freedom to choose, and they could only take that from her if she willingly gave it up. She refused to let that happen, refused to give anyone control over her.

The body was still in her driveway when she returned home, just as it had been an hour before, and she stared down at it from her saddle. “You will never win!” she sneered, her voice low and powerful. “You can threaten my life, but I will never, ever give you my spirit.” She spit at him, her saliva splattering on the man’s blood-drained face. Rose smiled for the first time all day.

Wednesday, January 18 th

Deer Creek, MT

Jennifer hurried down the basement stairs, the scared look on her face alerting Kyle that something was wrong. “Kyle, some people are here to see you. Sean, Gabe, and a couple others.”

He’d been drifting in and out of sleep for twenty minutes before Jennifer’s footsteps had roused him. “What do they want?”

Jennifer shook her head. “Just said they need to talk to you, but something doesn’t seem right. Their faces, it’s just, I don’t know. Hurry, okay?”

Kyle dressed and was quickly upstairs. “Hey,” he said, addressing the men. “Jennifer said you wanted to see me? What’s up?” Sean, Gabe, Ty Lewis and a man Kyle didn’t recognize stood uncomfortably in the living room.

“We found the girl from Clinton,” Sean said, looking from Kyle to Gabe.

“Is she alright?” Kyle asked, but he knew the answer. Four people didn’t show up to give you good news.

“We found her body, Kyle,” Gabe said. “A couple of hours ago.”

“Oh no. I’m really sorry to hear that,” Kyle said as he dropped into a chair. “What happened?”

Sean shook his head. “We don’t know for sure. Still trying to figure that out. Thought maybe you could help us.”

Spencer bounded into the room. “Dad!” he shouted, jumping up on Kyle’s lap. “You’re awake! Can we play a game?”

Kyle gently pushed Spencer off his lap. “Not now, son. Go find your mother. I’m a little busy.” He turned back to Sean, his heart beating a little harder. “I don’t know what to tell you more than what I said this morning. It was pretty quiet last night, but cold. Was it exposure?”

The men looked nervous and hesitant, their eyes not willing to meet Kyle’s. “Kyle,” Ty finally spoke up. “We found her body in your house, your old one. It appears she was raped and strangled.” Ty’s gaze dropped to the floor as he spoke.

Jennifer gasped from the doorway of the kitchen, and they all turned to look at her. “You found her where?”

Sean answered. “In the basement of your home, the empty one. Her pants were down around her knees; it looks like she was sexually assaulted.”

“Wait,” Jennifer interrupted. She led Spencer and Emma out of the kitchen and down to the basement. The men waited in silence for her to return. “Go on,” she said as she walked back into the room.

Kyle could see her hands shaking. He smiled at her and mouthed, “It’s okay,” but he felt a dead weight in his stomach and didn’t know if he believed it himself.

“I forgot your kids were in there,” Sean apologized.

Jennifer shook her head, but didn’t say anything, her voice lost.

“A searcher saw her through a basement window, but the house was locked. Her pants were down around her knees, and there was bruising on her neck. We don’t know if she died from the cold or from an assault, but it wasn’t accidental.”

Kyle tried to swallow, but his throat was too tight. “Do you need the key? Is that why you’re here?”

“It’s not,” Sean said, his voice nervous. “They broke in, the searchers. Thought she might still be alive. We’re here for you, Kyle. We need you to come with us.”

“What do you need Kyle for?” Jennifer asked, her voice uneven and rising. “He already told you he doesn’t know anything.”

“Jennifer, we’re sorry,” Gabe said as he stepped towards Jennifer. “This is just a real bad situation. We need to talk to Kyle, in private.”

“But he’s already told you…He doesn’t even get paid anything to do that stupid job. You think he had something to do with this?”

“Jennifer! It’s okay,” Kyle said, stopping his wife. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head. “I didn’t do anything; they’ll figure that out. It’s going to be fine!”

She was crying, wiping at her eyes with her hands. “You just got back. Don’t go,” she pled. “Just stay here. Please!”

“I have to go. If I don’t, it’ll look bad. I trust them.” He looked at Sean. “What do you need me to do?”

“Do you have any weapons on you?”

“No,” Kyle said, lifting his sweatshirt.

“Then put on your jacket and shoes and come with us.” Sean pointed to the fourth man in their group who hadn’t said anything to this point. “This is Don Anderson. He’s from Clinton, the community rep there.”

Kyle nodded at him warily, then dressed and followed the group out the door. To his surprise there were four more men waiting outside for them, all with rifles, none looking happy.

“You guys think I was going to try and run off?” Kyle whispered to Ty upon seeing the armed escort.

“They’re from Clinton,” Ty answered. “Friends of the girl’s family. Not very happy about what’s gone down. No one is. Not in Deer Creek, Clinton, or anywhere. It’s got everyone shook up.”

The procession silently made its way down the street towards the militia house, a rare spectacle for the bored residents of Deer Creek that drew gawkers and the curious outside their homes. The mile long journey took fifteen minutes, and the party arrived well before sundown. As they approached, the door was opened from inside, where three more people were waiting.

“You didn’t cuff him?” an unfamiliar face inside the militia house asked.

“No,” Sean answered. “No need. He came without any problems, like I told you he would.”

“Humph,” the man said. He sneered and glared at Kyle. “Don’t go thinking that helps you at all.”

Kyle heard undisguised derision in the man’s voice and stopped just inside the door. “Have I been arrested or charged with something that I don’t know about?”