Page 53 of Long Pig
Willow made a low keening sound when he eviscerated the body. Butch ignored her. The blood flowed into the indented sides of the table and ran into a floor drain. The drain led to a separate septic system from the house and eventually was digested into the ground water.
Once the deputy was stripped, he grabbed the hooks from above and jerked them forward until they hung over the body. Piercing each armpit, he dug them in until the top part of his body was secure. He cranked the chains until it swung free of the table.
Willow gasped loudly and then buried her head in her arms, rocking slightly. He grabbed the deputy’s arm and pushed him down the rail until he was out of the way. The temperature in the prep room stayed at a constant forty degrees due to how far underground it was. The body needed time to rest before the processing began.
He walked to a side closet and removed the items Willow would need. The chain attached to her leg gave her enough room to lay on the camp bed he unfolded, and to reach the portablecomposting toilet he rolled out. He placed a pillow and two blankets on the camp bed. If she behaved, she would keep them.
He hadn’t forgotten his anger, and he almost hoped she misbehaved.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Death in the Dark
Willow
The light vanished and swallowed Willow whole. She lifted her hand, but it was erased by nothingness. Panic coiled tight in her chest. Each breath came in ragged gasps that hurt her lungs. She tried to inhale deeply, but failed.
Her stomach lurched. The sour taste of bile burned her throat, but nothing came up. She’d been too nervous to eat before she left to meet Deputy Wallard.
His face flashed in her mind. He was dead, and sadness crushed her. He had a wife, a child, a life, even if he was amoral. Now his body was hanging in the corner of the room. Even though she couldn’t see it, she felt his grotesque shadow.
Her body shook. She pressed her fists to her mouth, whispering inside her head:Don’t cry. Don’t scream.The darkness and silence pressed in, smothering her until she could hear her pulse pounding in her skull. She was trapped in a place worse than prison. Slowly, she reviewed everything that happened. None of it made sense.
Time passed, and the cold sank into her bones. She finally pulled one of the blankets from the camp bed. It was a sleeping bag and she was warm within a short time though she continued to shake. Her bladder finally began protesting. She’d watched Larry place toilet paper beside the toilet. The bed separated her from her destination. Her legs almost gave out when she stood. Placing one palm flat against the wall, she slowly took a step. Her knee hit the aluminum leg of the bed, but it didn’t stop her. The same knee hit the toilet. In prison, she’d learned there was no room for modesty. The juvenile facility she’d spent the first three years in had a toilet with a three-foot wall so the guards knew what she was doing, but couldn’t see her lower half. The adult prison had no privacy, and had been an adjustment. It didn’t take long to be reduced to the animal they treated you like.
She finished quickly and inched to the camp bed. In her mind, Deputy Wallard stared at her. Panic rose again. Larry had been proficient with the deputy’s body. Willow didn’t know a lot about hunting, but what she saw made her think of hunters prepping their catch. It was all too much, and her thoughts turned to Dale.
He would have no idea what happened to her. A horrible thought struck. Had Larry left her here while he went and killed Dale and the dogs? She stopped the terrifying thoughts. They didn’t help. There was no reason to kill Dale. He would report her missing, and the police would find her truck and the deputy’s truck.
What would Dale think?
Eventually, she drifted into a fitful sleep.
???
Dale
As the evening turned late, Dale began to worry. At midnight, he called Willow’s cell. It went straight to voicemail. Something was wrong. For most women her age, this would be nothing unusual, but for Willow, it was the first time she’d gone out with a friend. Not calling or answering her phone this late meant something was wrong.
He hated to call Lucia, but he didn’t have Sofia’s number. Lucia answered on the second ring.
“Hello,” she said groggily.
“Hi Lucia, it’s Dale Berger.”
“Your name is on my screen, what’s wrong?”
“When you worked for the sheriff’s department and received a call after midnight, it meant something was wrong. Willow went to Show Low with your niece, Sofia. It’s late, and I tried Willow’s cell, but it went straight to voicemail. I was hoping you could call Sofia.”
“That doesn’t make sense,” she said.
“What doesn’t make sense?”
“Sofia and my sister left for Vegas yesterday,” she paused, “No, now it’s day before yesterday. They were staying through the weekend, and asked me to go with them but I had previous plans. They swung by here on their way out and switched cars. Mine has better gas mileage.”
Dale went silent, his mind racing. This made no sense.
“Dale?”