The Family Estate by Neglected 2 Much

Author:Neglected 2 Much [Much, Neglected 2]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: GaggedUtopia's Story Archive
Published: 2013-12-31T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter 4: Kimberly’s Mark

Kelly fell back to sleep in a big leather chair after Alice nudged her awake to say goodnight. When she woke up on her own again some time later, it was hard to resist the urge to go back to sleep for the night right there, but she had to find that outhouse and remembered the beautiful four poster bed waiting for her upstairs. Using her arms to push up onto her stiff, tight legs, she managed to find her balance as she blinked her bleary eyes back into focus.

She took a swig of tequila straight from the bottle, bracing herself to venture outside. The lights kept flickering here and there too. The generator needed to be checked. Clear out in the barn. Just peachy. She was tempted to say fuck it and pee in a red plastic cup like Connie had done but didn’t want to take a chance on the generator burning up or something.

Her Aunt Linda had left a double-barreled 12-gauge shotgun propped behind the door. Wandering around in the dark with a gun and booze, how perfectly backwoods. She took another swig of tequila before putting down the bottle and checking the gun. Loaded. Slugs. Good. That much lead would take down even one of Oswald’s “carnavorous” wild hogs. Not that she wanted to shoot anything, but like her Grandpa used to say, “If you have to shoot a varmint, then you better do it right. Otherwise, it’ll just get mad.”

She had never told Alice or Connie how backwoods a family she really had, or what a good shot she was, and preferred to keep it that way. Otherwise, she’d never hear the end of the teasing.

Resting the shotgun in the crook of her arm, Kelly grabbed her surprisingly bright little LED flashlight before stepping out the back door. Moonlight cast a pale glow and faint elongated shadows on everything. She could almost see from the glow alone, so turned her light down to a dimmer mode as she made her way along the short path to the outhouse—no use advertising her presence any more than necessary.

Traces of fog promised a true, spooky Halloween night for anyone, or anything, which happened to be out and about…focus Kelly, don’t you dare think about that anymore. She turned the flashlight back up to max—to hell with anyone seeing the light.

The outhouse wasn’t so bad, just cold. She kept the shotgun close at hand the whole time. Her mind was starting to play tricks on her—and she didn’t even have a buzz from the tequila. Half a dozen different times, she thought she heard something walking around outside.

Finished, she opened the outhouse door a crack to make sure it was safe before setting out for the barn. A dim light outlining an open side door and sputtering generator noises served to guide the way across the backyard. It wasn’t that far, but it seemed like a mile under the circumstances.

Wishing she still had that bottle of

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