A Winter's Kill by J K Ellem

Author:J K Ellem [Ellem, J K]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: 28th Street Multi Media Group
Published: 2019-03-30T16:00:00+00:00

28

Beau Hodges was a seasoned hunter who lived on acreage on the outskirts of town, up near the foothills and in clear sight of the start of the forest ranges and the majestic view of the Flint Plains beyond.

Carolyn drove, following the directions Laura had given her, lines and scribble hastily written on the back of a beer coaster from the bar, affixed to the sun visor, that she would flip down every so often to check her progress to where “X” marked the spot.

The morning sky, God’s heaven, was painted in a pale eggshell blue that stretched all the way to the crescent moon.

In the distance, like an ocean liner on the flat horizon, a big four-wheel drive tractor crawled along, disking a snow covered field, gouging furrows in the cold, hard earth, making it ready for spring that was still months away. Even though it was winter, the work never ended.

The surrounding fields were stripped bare, dry and glassy with sheets of ice, bleached yellow scrub and crop stubble, patches of snow. The harvest done for the season, silos and barns were full, and minds were set to other thoughts such as what seed to plant next, and what crops to grow when the warmth returned.

Reaching an intersection, Carolyn turned and headed east. Low foot hills covered with forest rose in front of her, and beyond that were low jagged peaks, crowned with bright snow.

A mile later she spotted the entrance to Beau Hodges’ property. It was hard to miss with the only structures on a sea of flatness for miles. There was the main house surrounded by a scatter of smaller outbuildings. Away from the main house was a large red shed made from corrugated iron sheeting.

Hodges wasn’t a farmer. He was a sheet metal worker who ran his business from the big shed on his property.

There were two pickup up trucks, one next to the main house, the other, a much larger one, was parked next to the red shed. The larger pickup was painted olive drab, with a huge front bull bar with a row of large spot lights. It had jacked up suspension, big thick tread tires, and looked like it would do well in any zombie apocalypse.

Carolyn eased her car next to the smaller pickup in front of the house. Even though it was the smaller of the two, the pickup still dwarfed her car as she climbed out.

Then the barking started, loud, deep and guttural.

Large outdoor cages made of tubular steel and thick gauge mesh sat towards the rear of the house. Dark shapes roamed inside the dog cages. Fur, froth and sharp flesh-tearing teeth boiled, bellowed, clawed at Carolyn as she stood next to her car.

The house was large and well maintained, built from a mix of brick, stone, wood and steel sheeting, fashioned by someone who had an eye for practical design, measured angles, and quality workmanship.

The air was crisp and heart-stopping cold.

Hopeful, Carolyn spotted a twist of wood smoke rising from a large stone chimney that was built into one side of the main house.

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