Carver Pike - Scalp

That had to be the case. The driver had gone home to sleep off his drunken stupor. Tomorrow was Saturday. By Sunday those bruises would surely set in and Hal wondered if he’d see somebody around town who looked like runover dogshit. That would be the driver. The funny thing about small towns is you can never keep a secret for long.

Hal liked Clydesville though. He liked West Virginia as a whole. Sure, he’d left to try that short stint in Nashville, but he was home now, and he liked this small town. Everyone was polite. Well, everyone except Gus. People here nodded hello to each other in Walmart. They helped one another in times of need.

They tried to help you when Sheila and Susanna were taken from you.

Hal walked with Gus back to their trucks parked on the main gravel-covered road that circled the entire park.

“Hey,” Gus said. “Remember, the kids are arriving at Stonewall tomorrow. Don’t be accidentally shooting anybody thinking they’re deer or a bear or whatnot.”

“I won’t,” Hal said.

The truth was, he had no intention of drawing his gun, ever, unless it was absolutely necessary. It was his gun that killed Susanna, and it was a gun that killed Sheila as well. It might as well have been the same one. Susanna was only twelve when she pulled the gun on her cousin, Gabe.

Nobody knew why. That was the story, and everyone stuck to it.

But Hal knew the truth. Gabe was fifteen and had a history of perverted ways. He’d tried something with Hal’s little girl, and she’d been brave enough to defend herself. That was the truth about what happened. Sheila didn’t last very long after that. She blamed Hal. It was his gun after all. She shot herself three months to the day after Susanna died.

Hal wanted to follow suit. He’d almost gone through with it, but he’d been too much of a chicken shit. Sheila had always been the strong one in their relationship. He might have been able to hunt and fish like nobody’s business, but she was the one with the true grit. She wore the pants. Now, she was gone.

If it weren’t a job requirement, Hal wouldn’t even carry a gun. The way he saw it, if a bear wanted to wrestle with him, maybe he’d get lucky and the bear would knock his head clean off his shoulders. That would sure be a way to go. He might not be able to put a bullet in his own skull, but he wasn’t afraid of death itself. It might lead him back to his wife and little girl.

Gus assured him he’d probably never need to fire a gun on this job anyway. Some nights he might catch black bears digging in garbage cans, but they were harmless for the most part and could be easily chased off with his truck’s horn or siren.

This was an easy job. That was what mattered. It kept him working through the night when he usually woke up drenched in sweat, reliving a moment he wasn’t even there to see in person. In his nightmares, Susanna screamed for her life while nasty, now-dead Gabe pulled his teenage pecker out of his pants and stroked it in front of her, telling her she needed to touch it. When she tried to leave the room, he grabbed her and threw her onto the bed. Susanna reached for the gun in the nightstand drawer and pulled it out, but Gabe was quick and almost pinned her down again when the gun went off between them. He took the first bullet in the gut, but his adrenaline was going strong and he forced her to put a bullet in her own stomach next. They both bled out with Susanna crying and calling out to her father.

“Daddy. Daddy. Daddy.” He could hear her even now, crying for him as she lay in a puddle of her own blood.

“—You know what I’m saying?” Gus finished saying something.

Hal missed the first part of his question but figured the older man hadn’t said anything of any importance, so he nodded his head and added, “Ain’t that the truth.”

“It sure is,” Gus replied.

Whew. Works every time. Ain’t that the truth covers just about anything.

“These kids are running me ragged. They might be the death of me.”

“Ain’t that the truth.”

“Dinner’s gonna get cold if we don’t hurry up and get home to eat.”

“Ain’t that the truth.”

“That sure is one gorgeous woman.”

“Ain’t that the truth.”

“He is one stubborn son of a bitch.”

“Ain’t that the truth.”

Hal stood for a moment and watched as Gus hopped into his truck, fired up the engine, and drove away. His taillights were fading in the distance and the state troopers were picking through the remains of the wreck. For a moment, Hal felt like he was outside of it all. Life felt like that a lot right now. Like he was an observer instead of an active participant. His reasons for living were long gone and now he was only taking it day by day until the good Lord saw fit to reach down and free him from all this .

His eyes scanned the damage once more, and he shook his head, feeling sorry for the poor soul who’d once been inside that truck.

Whoever climbed out of it must be in a world of pain.

Gus was right about one thing. Hal’s shift was boring. He patrolled the perimeter road every hour, as expected, and drove the interior maze of dirt and gravel during the time in between. At a little after two o’clock in the morning, he parked near one of the lakes and ate his dinner. It was during that time, when he had his windows rolled down and was enjoying the cool breeze coming off the water, he heard splashing.

Giggles.

More splashing.

There wasn’t supposed to be anyone in this part of the park. Not right now anyway. It was too close to the Stonewall Forge campus. Kids would be arriving, if they hadn’t already, way too close to here. This was the kind of nonsense that could get him in trouble on his first night.

Hal blew out a breath and stepped out of the truck. It occurred to him that he could drive away right now and pretend he hadn’t heard anything. If he’d never taken his lunch break here, or if he’d driven away even five minutes earlier, he would have had no idea anyone was back here. Pretending was easy.

If you turn your head once, you’ll turn it a hundred more times.

It wasn’t adults he was worried about. If those kids had arrived at Stonewall Forge, some of them could be sneaking away for some nighttime skinny dipping. That was something he would have done when he was in high school. Water moccasins, copperheads, and rattlesnakes were around these parts. God forbid a kid get bit on his watch. That would be bad. First, a truck takes a tumble off the highway and then a snakebite incident?

No, thank you.

With his flashlight out in front of him, Hal stepped carefully through the brush. The moon was bright overhead but came and went as patches of grey clouds drifted in front of it and then moved on. It was like a strobe light effect. The moon blinked at him in Morse code.

Another giggle and Hal shook his head. He hoped he didn’t push through this last patch of tree branches to find a naked teenage girl hopping around on the beach. Gus would probably pray he did. He was a perverted son of a bitch.

Ain’t that the truth.

The blonde he stumbled upon as he came out of the trees was young, but she wasn’t a teenager. If Hal had to guess, she was at least twenty-two. She was probably a college girl, and Hal didn’t mean to catch a peek at her big, obviously fake, breasts. It took the girl a moment to realize she needed to cover them up. She’d been about to step into the water when she heard Hal’s approach and turned to face him.