The Hand That Feeds: A Horror Novel (8 page)

Angela stopped as the man screamed. She leaned toward the door
and then pushed John with all her might. John stumbled back and lost his balance. He hit the ground with a solid smack and the hammer slid across the floor under the bed.

“Damn it.”

John lifted his head and saw the man step out of Alex’s room, slamming the door behind him. Angela was standing in front of him, blocking the way.

“Get him,
” she said.

“Get who?”

John knew she was screaming for him. He flipped over on his hands and knees and reached under the bed.

“Get the hell out of my way.”

John heard Angela cry out followed by a loud slam against the wall.

“I don’t know what the hell your problem is, give me those,” the man
said.

“Damn it, get him.
”

“Your freaking dog bit me,” the man said. “You are crazy. I bet you did get put up in that hospital.”

John heard the front door open and then close. He still couldn’t find the hammer. The sound of a truck revving was interrupted by Angela running into the room.

“What the hell are you doing?” she
asked.

“I lost the damn hammer,”
John said.

Angela pulled at him to get up. “He’s getting away.”

He got to his feet and headed back down the hall, but once he reached the front door, he still didn’t have a plan. He pulled the door open in time to see a truck backing down the driveway. In a plume of smoke, the tires spun out as it pulled away.

“Go get him,” Angela
said, pushing past him and out the door. “What are you waiting for?”

John turned to face her, she was still naked.

“What do you want me to do? He’s gone.”

Angela eyed him coldly and stomped her heel on the ground.
“You’re going to fix this,” she said. “You’re going to fix this or we’re finished.” She didn’t give him time to respond before she turned around, headed back in the house, and slammed the door behind her.

9

John sat out on the front porch for several hours. He wanted a drink
, but wasn’t willing to go back in the house to get it. He knew what was coming. Angela hadn’t gotten what she wanted and there was going to be hell to pay. He tried to rationalize it as long as he could. She was only doing what was best for their son. It was John’s responsibility to take care of the man once she got him in the house, and he didn’t do that.

It was hard for
John to understand how they’d got to this point. Love was a crazy thing and he kept telling himself this was all an extension of that craziness. He strolled up and down the driveway stuck in his thoughts. Angela looked out the living room window several times, but he hadn’t seen her in over an hour. He was hoping to wait her out before going in. He planned to sneak in, try and hold off the furry until the morning. She was bound to calm down by then.

The cold was beginning to get to him. His t-shirt and jeans did little to keep him warm.
He rubbed his hands over his arms and eyed the living room for movement. He waited as long as he could before deciding it was safe.

John worked his way around to the rear of the house and tried the back door. The knob turned with ease and he slipped inside
quickly. A wall of heat hit him in the face as he entered. He hadn’t realized how cold it was. He saw no sign of Angela, heading for the kitchen with swift, silent steps. Within a few seconds, he had a bottle of Jack Daniels in one hand and his last pack of cigarettes in the other. He stepped past the kitchen table without looking around, opened the back door, and popped outside.

A few minutes
later, the cold was no longer an issue. He took several long swigs from the bottle and lit up a second cigarette before the first one was out. He spent another hour in the back of the house and by the time he came in, his concern for his wife’s mood was all but gone. The back door popped open and he tossed the empty bottle of Jack on the ground before he stepped through.

“You found your nerve?”

John’s head shot up and he found Angela standing at the entrance to the hallway. She’d covered up in one of his old work shirts, but it didn’t leave a lot to the imagination. He found he had plenty of liquid courage. “I wasn’t looking for nerve.” He tossed the pack of cigarettes on the table.

“I thought you quit?”

“I started back,” he said and headed into the kitchen.

Angela stayed
in the hall as he turned on the kitchen faucet. He took a few minutes to clean his hands and rub some cold water on his face and through his hair. John knew she was watching him, but he didn’t sense the anger he’d assumed he was going to get.

“I know, I know,”
he said as he stepped out of the kitchen and leaned against the entryway. “I messed up.”

Angela eyed him long enough for it to be uncomfortable then smiled. She crossed the dining room slowly
, not turning her head. Her eyes were focused as something worked its way through her mind. She came to a stop a few feet from him, leaning back against the dining room table. “You sure did,” she said. “You acted like a coward.” She didn’t say the words any different, but the last phrase cut hard at John. She was still smiling.

“I couldn’t do it,”
he said. “It’s not like we’re talking about pulling a cow in the house and-”

“Yes it is,”
she said, her voice taking on a deeper note as she pushed off the table and took a long step toward him. “That’s exactly what it’s like. If you had to eat and the only thing that would satisfy you was some stupid cow…” Her smile widened. “…would you have a problem bringing it to the slaughter?”

John knew she was trapping him
, but he fell right into it anyway.

“No,” he
said.

“This is the same thing,”
she insisted, then took another step toward him and placed her hand on his belt. “Your son needs to eat. We brought a cow in for the slaughter and all you had to do was make the finishing cut.”

John pursed his lips. His head was a mess. Any time he could get away from Angela for an extended period
, the weight of what was happening in his house came to the forefront. However, when she got a hold of him, his strength didn’t stand a chance.

“I said I messed up,”
he said. “When the moment came, I couldn’t do it.”

He
shook his head, disgusted with himself. No matter what was going on in his life, he couldn’t stand to disappoint his wife. She’d had a powerful control over him for as long as he could remember. Angela abruptly turned away and walked back down the hall. John hesitated and then followed after her. She stopped in front of Alex’s door and held her ear against the wood. Like a mother cat, she slowly scratched at the door. She continued the act until a haunting mimic could be heard clearly from the other side.

“Do you want to tell him?”
she asked without looking at John. “Do you want to tell your son he’s going to have to suffer because you were a coward?”

She didn’t wait for an answer. Angela pulled her face away, kissed her hand
, and held it up lovingly to the door. She walked towards her bedroom with a smile in place.

John sighed heavily as his shoulders slouched. “
But, babe…” Angela didn’t respond. He was close to where she wanted him. A small push in the right direction would put things back in the right direction. “Babe,” he said, calling after her as he stepped into their bedroom.

“I don’t know what you want me to say,”
she said. “He’s gone now.” She motioned out at the hall. John stood in the doorway defeated. She sat down on the bed and looked up at him. Her eyes shifted as if trying to think of some way to fix the problem. “What do you think we should do?” she asked. “It’s not like I enjoy letting the creep rub up against me.” She leaned back on the bed resting on her elbows; the edge of her shirt road up far enough to prove she hadn’t put on anything underneath.

John looked on without bothering to hide what he was doing. The Jack Daniels in his system was beginning to have its way with his mind. He found it difficult to keep up with the importance of the conversation. All he knew
, was he didn’t want Angela mad at him. He thought back to the events following their bath together as he stumbled into the room. He edged closer to the bed and her expression changed. She didn’t have to say it, but he knew at once that he wasn’t welcome to see anything else underneath the shirt.

“He was all over me,”
she said and then frowned. “It’s not like I want another man to run his hands over my skin.”

John felt the comment stick in his head. “What do you want me to do?” he asked after a long pause.

Angela smiled again. She leaned back further and dropped on her back. The edge of her shirt rose up above her waist. “I want you to fix the problem,” she said. “If it makes you feel better,” she paused, “I want you to bring your son another cow for the slaughter.”

John didn’t react. In his current
state, it took a few seconds for the impact of what she was saying to hit him. When the reality hit, it showed through in his eyes. Angela’s smile never faded.

“What?” she asked. “
Don’t you think you should be the provider?”

John shifted uncomfortably.

“If you want,” Angela stretched her arms across the bed, “I guess I could go offer myself up to another man again.”

John shook his head. He looked determined in his response.
“I can do it,” he said.

“Are you sure?”

John nodded. “I said I can do it.”

Angela slid across the bed and sat up on her knees. She pulled the shirt off over her head and threw it on the floor.
“It will have to be soon, our son needs it.”

John nodded.

“Alright then,” she said. “Why don’t you come over here? We can talk about where you’re going to go tomorrow.”

John took a step toward the bed
and then stopped. “Tomorrow?”

“Yes, tomorrow,”
she said. “Alex is not going to wait any longer.”

John
took another step then sat on the bed.

“Don’t be upset
.” She slid her arms over his shoulders. “I’ll make everything okay.”

#

Angela laid out a plan as if John couldn’t figure it out for himself. It was his turn to go on the hunt and he had to produce. She made it clear that Alex couldn’t wait any longer. He awoke that morning to find Angela not in the bed. A quick search of the house came up empty. The truck was still in the driveway and John thought perhaps she’d lost it and ran out the back door, never to return. It was a gentle hum; however, which revealed him the truth.

He
followed the tune until he was sure it was coming from Alex’s room. He knew his wife’s voice at once, but the idea that she’d gone inside alone was something he couldn’t fathom. He called to her from the door, but she wouldn’t answer. The courage to turn the knob on his son’s door took a while to pull together. John pushed the door with the strength of a child’s breath, but as he did, a lullaby called to him with an instantly stronger volume. In between the notes, an abominable tone was added. John opened the door fully to take in his family in one sight.

Angela had managed to pin
Alex against the wall with his bed. The boy’s grotesque hands lashed at his mother’s face, sensing her living flesh. John stood in silence, mortified by what he saw. Alex’s skin was pale, mixed with a light violet hue. All along his arms, patches of deep bruising centered on exposed wounds. Rips in the skin revealed gray and brown muscle underneath. Dried blood dotted his clothes with a large ringed stain around his neck.

The boy’s head turned
towards his father as he hissed and bit at the air in his direction. His arms lashed wildly as he clawed at the bed pinning him below the waist. The guttural sounds emitting from him were horrifying, reminding John of a dying animal lying on the side of the road. John forced himself to look away and he stepped back out into the hall.

He
went to the kitchen and waited. He tried to make himself a cup of coffee, but found he couldn’t keep his hands from shaking long enough to finish the task. He settled for standing at the sink and looking out the small window at the backyard. Sunlight crept across the wide grass as the sparkling dew evaporated.

It was another half hour before
he heard Angela close Alex’s door. She was still humming to herself when she came into the kitchen looking for him. John stayed at the sink, but turned to face her. He found her wide smile somehow frightening. He didn’t move when she kissed him, and turned her attention to finishing the pot of coffee.

“I hope you slept well,” she said.

“Good enough, I guess.”

She put the paper filter in place and measured out the grounds.
“You’re going to need the strength,” she said then leaned past him and filled the coffee pot with water. “You’ll be up late tonight.”

John didn’t respond. He watched her pour the water in the machine
, and then turned it on. She finally turned her attention on him when the small red light came on.

“Thought about where you might go?” she asked.

He didn’t want to admit it, but the truth was, he had thought about it. Angela didn’t give him a chance to respond.

“I was thinking you should head to Victorville,” she
said.

“Victorville?
That’s an hour away.”

“I know
, but we can’t very well go to the same places. Don’t you think someone might notice if a lot of people start disappearing?” she asked. “It won’t take very long for someone to piece together that every time one of us shows up somewhere, our dates don’t come back?”

She had a point.

“How am I supposed to convince someone to drive all the way back here with me?” John asked.

Angela’s eyes narrowed for a moment. Her smile faded into a slight grin.
“What’s a matter, you don’t think you still have what it takes to pull in the ladies?” she asked.

John felt a
tug at his ego. “I didn’t say that,” he said. “I’ve got plenty of moves.”

Angela laughed out loud.
“Okay, babe, I’m sure you’ve got moves.” She tried to stop laughing. “No one said you have to bring home a bikini model, but if you did,” she smiled again, “I’d be impressed.”

They waited in silence for the coffee to brew. Angela poured two cups and gave one to John.
He took it, then she slapped him on the hip playfully and started to walk away.

“Let’s go,” she said.

“Where?”

“I want to pick out an outfit for you. You need to get on the road.”

“It’s eight in the morning,” John said.

Angela stopped and put one hand on her hip.
She spoke slowly as if explaining something to a child. “There’s no reason you can’t try and get a full blown drunk. They start early.” She headed back into the living room, but before John could catch up with her, she popped her head back into the kitchen to finish her thought. “And make sure you bring a hammer with you. There’s no reason the lucky girl will have to want to come home with you.”