A gun shot rang out! Seconds later another followed. I jumped up from the couch and grabbed my hand gun from a high shelf and ran out the door. The shots were loud and came from inside the building. Several people ahead of me stood outside the Thibodaux's room.
I knocked on the door; Rhonda opened it immediately. Her right hand held a Glock. Dean was mostly obscured behind her, on the floor, cursing. The smell of gunpowder was strong. I stretched and over her shoulder saw Dean lying there clutching his leg. Blood flowed from a wound in his thigh. I stuck my gun under my belt and reached for Rhonda's pistol. She gave me a stern look before she exhaled loudly and released it.
Kelli Pitchford was in the hall on her tiptoes trying to see what had happened. "Kelli, fetch Doc and Marcie. Dean's been shot. Hurry!"
Shane pushed through the crowd and stood at the door. Down the hall, Vivian stood against the wall, talking with several women. I saw Doc scampering through the gathering throng with Marcie ten feet behind him.
I turned to Shane. "Rhonda shot Dean. You, Rhonda, and Vivian need to go to the office with me. And ask Vivian to bring Brittney along."
Shane grabbed my arm. "What the hell's going on? What does Brittney have to do with this?" Doc and Marcie pushed past us and entered the room to treat Dean's injury.
"Trust me, buddy, she's involved. We'll discuss it in private when we get to the office." I turned to the crowd. "The excitement is over. Most of you please clear the hall so Doc can take Dean down to his office. Several of you men please stick around in case Doc needs help."
I took Rhonda by the arm and led her through the onlookers to the nearest stairway to the first floor. It was easy to tell which women knew about the infidelity rumor, because they looked at Rhonda sympathetically. Carmen Jones even gestured a thumbs up sign to her.
On our walk to the office, Rhonda assured me she only shot Dean once. The first shot was into the ceiling because she was pissed and wanted his full attention. Shane followed us shortly. Five minutes later, Vivian opened the office door and led a tearful Brittney inside. I sat at the end of the table; Rhonda sat on my right; Shane was seated on my left. Brittney scrunched in a chair between Shane and Vivian and cast fearful, surreptitious glances at Rhonda.
Shane turned to Brittney; his voice cracked. "Why are we here, Brit?" Brittney blubbered, and snot dripped down her lips and hung on her chin.
Rhonda leaned across the table. "We're here because my husband knocked your slutty daughter up, and I shot the two-timing bastard."
From there, the conversation pretty much went downhill.
Kira stood as I entered our room an hour later. "Well, the rumors were right about Dean and Brittney."
She nodded glumly. "I was afraid they would be. I heard about Dean being shot. How'd the meeting go?"
"Shane was surprised and disappointed. Brittney cringed and cried about two quarts of tears. Rhonda ranted and screamed and had to be pushed back onto her chair several times when she tried to crawl across the table and attack Brittney. Vivian was sensible, as usual, and tried to smooth things over. When we finished, I locked Rhonda in an isolation cell. She can stay there for a couple days until she calms down. If Dean wants to press charges against her, we'll have a trial and decide what to charge her with. I don't think she wanted to kill him; she's a good shot and he was only six or eight feet away. So I believe she just wanted him to suffer as much pain as she felt when she confronted him about the rumor. Apparently, he owned up to fooling around and she doled out his punishment. As far as I'm concerned, it should be over and done with."
"I'm thankful Paige and Mitch fell in love and became mates before she got pregnant. Maybe this will be a good lesson for the other young people whose hormones are making them crazy." She pushed up against me and wrapped her arms around my neck as she smiled seductively. "My hormones are causing a raging fire inside me, Doctor. Do you have a cure for that?" Our movements became urgent as we parted and began to throw clothing aside.
I undressed with one hand and flipped the lights off with the other before we played Doctor Studly and Patient Greatbody.
When dawn broke the next morning, six of us searched the surrounding woodland for recently used trails. We found four within a half mile radius of the lake. Although we seldom saw them, bare footprints in moist ground proved zombies were slinking around. We picked out six good spots off the trails to build simple blinds in low tree branches.
Two days later, six hastily constructed blinds were occupied by two shooters in each. From several of the hunters in the group, we'd gathered three distressed rabbit calls, one squirrel call, two deer calls, and several waterfowl calls.
Jesse Pitchford and I shared a blind. I'd never hunted predators and wasn't familiar with the injured rabbit call. After an hour and fifteen minutes of Jesse occasionally putting the call to his lips, I saw movement off to my right. Three full-bodied zombies snuck along the trail that would take them to a small clearing a hundred feet in front of our perch. I nudged Jesse with my elbow and silently motioned to my right. He grinned, made two more rabbit cries, let the call drop to the end of the lanyard around his neck, and ever so slowly raised his rifle. My breathing was shallow,
