"Oh yeah? And what were your intentions?"
"I admit," he mumbled through the blood still pouring over his lips. "My goal was to frame you for murder. At the very least, I wanted them to indirectly blame you for everything. I never thought they'd actually think you were a witch. It was just supposed to make you look crazy. It's incredible, isn't it? Who would have thought there would be puritan level paranoids in this modern age? I mean, shit. I wanted to get you locked up for murder. But burned at the stake? Now, that's poetic justice."
Sasha couldn't listen to any more of his bullshit. He had orchestrated the whole thing to make her look guilty from the start. He wanted to get her imprisoned or killed. Though she hated to admit it, his plan had gone off without a hitch. In fact, it went better than he could have planned. She knew there would be little chance she would survive the night. There was an army of people out there looking for her, even now. It was only a matter of time before she was caught. Maybe the town would come to their senses before they did anything irrational. But she knew better. Fear was like a virus. Once it spread, it was nearly impossible to stop. It took hold of this town and infected nearly everyone. The only cure was her inevitable death.
She looked down at Brent. From this angle, she wondered how she ever found him threatening. She could now see him for what he truly was. A coward of a man. He had always been a coward. Tears rolled down his cheeks, no doubt from the pain of his shredded nose. Blood stained his chin and neck and his chest heaved with the unmistakable spasm of fear.
"Do me a favor," Sasha said. "Stay dead this time, Corey."
“You know I hate that n-”
Before he could finish his sentence, Sasha brought the sharp end of the stick down and into his eye socket. It squished with a sickening sound and blood squirted from the wound. He screamed as Sasha turned the stick in circles, hopefully scrambling his brain. As she pulled the stick from his eye socket, the remainder of the eye came with it. Corey's head fell back and went limp. Unsure if he was alive or dead, Sasha plunged the stick under his chin and left it there. There was no doubt in her mind he was dead. This time, he would stay that way.
A wave of emotion struck her like a runaway bus and she collapsed into the dirt. Tears flooded over her cheeks. The blood on her hands disgusted her and she wanted nothing more than to wash it clean from her body. She would burn them with scalding water if she could stand it. She wished she could scrub her memory as well. Having to murder her husband had been difficult the first time around. Unfortunately, she had to commit the act twice.
As she wallowed in the dirt and cried, she heard the sound of footsteps approaching. Before she had time to look, she heard a voice cry out "I found the witch! She's killed again!" Sasha cursed as she pulled herself to her feet and bolted into the darkness.
Chapter Twenty-One
With ringing ears and a white-hot pain in her left arm, Tara stared into the darkness slowly encompassing her. Without the headlights, the world was utterly dark. The body of Sheriff Harrison was still pinned to the driver seat in front of her. It was a terrible reality for a girl of only nine to endure and yet it was all too real. She was all alone. The only person who could have helped her was now dead. Desperately, she wished her mother would arrive to pull her free from the car. She knew better, however. This was something she would have to do alone.
Her hands danced around in the dark, looking for the seat belt release. Giving it a press, her heart sank. It didn’t budge. Panic set in and she tried to search for anything that would help set her free, though she had no clue what to do. Tears streamed down her face and she fought back the urge to scream out for her mother.
The man driving her around had been a police officer. Surely, he would have something to cut the belt free. Perhaps a knife? Reaching her hands into the darkness, she felt the seat in front of her. But when she leaned forward the seat belt stayed tight. There was no chance of reaching anything.
The panic hit her harder now. Tears erupted and rolled down her face in rushing waves. Violently, she kicked her legs like it would set her free. She did cry out for her mother, no longer thinking it would be useless. Fear was all she knew now.
After a few minutes, she was able to calm herself and an idea came to mind. What if I squeeze out? she thought. Tara figured she was small enough, it might work. Getting to work, she began to wiggle back and forth, pushing up with her legs. The seat belt was tight against her but she thought she felt it give a little. She tried this several more times before realizing she wasn't moving enough. Her legs were simply too weak to push her free. Tara needed more leverage.
Again, her hands shot around in the darkness for anything she could find. Her hand touched the cool glass next to her head and slid up. It landed on the grab handle and, suddenly, an idea was born. I can use this to pull myself up, she thought.
Tara grabbed the handle and pulled with all of her might, simultaneously pushing up with her legs. This time she moved more than an inch but the seat belt kept
