“Say that again?” David shouts into the cellphone, feeling the bite of the wind against the back of his neck. What a swell time to get a haircut? Who exactly was going to care about the way his hair looked during Christmas dinner? Doesn’t matter, the howl of it is bad enough. He couldn’t possibly have heard what she said. Looking at the tipped over semi in the middle of the road, David watches Luther talking to the bloodied driver.
Jeb Vanderhook hacks the rope holding the enormous sack over the high branch of the tree and Keith could have swore that it is the sound of a body hitting the ground that echoes through the woods. From a distance, he watches, eyes fixed on the position with morbid fascination, wondering what’s inside the tarp sack that’s been hanging from Crazy Jeb’s tree for days now. When he watched Crazy Jeb drive into town, he snuck out his window, abandoning his telescope and venturing out into the fresh sea of snow to see what was in the sack.