Cruel Justice by William Bernhardt

else. She was still outside, but she was … looking through an open window. She was looking into a building. No, a room. She was looking into the corner where a woman stood against the wall. The woman was covered with blood, blood was spurting everywhere, blood was soaking her clothes and the walls and the floor. …
    “Carlee, are you going to help me or not?”
    Carlee heard his voice, but it seemed far away, distant. Unreal. What was real was what she was … seeing. That poor woman, backed into the corner. The woman was crying, screaming, and … and …
    Something struck the woman again, this time in the neck. A bloodcurdling howl was choked off and replaced by a death rattle. Blood spurted again and splashed throughout the room and the color and the smell and the sticky wetness was all over everything and …
    Carlee screamed.
    “Carlee, what is wrong with you? You’re scaring the kids!”
    Carlee clenched her eyes shut. The woman in the corner faded away. Carlee reopened her eyes slowly and saw her husband hovering over her. Somehow she had ended up on the ground, flat on her back.
    Dave was still gripping his hand, but the flow of blood had subsided. “Are you all right?”
    “I—I think so.” She licked her lips. Her throat was dry. “I don’t know what happened.”
    Dave’s forehead creased. “I’ll get the first-aid kit myself.”
    “Oh, but—”
    Too late. He was gone.
    When Dave returned, about a minute later, his hand was wrapped in white gauze. “It isn’t serious,” he informed his family. “It bled like crazy, but it was just a superficial cut.” He sat down beside his wife. “What about you? Are you all right?”
    It’s not superficial, Carlee thought. Her eyes were closed. It’s everywhere. The blood is everywhere.
    “Carlee, did you hear me?”
    “She needs help,” Carlee said aloud. “That poor woman needs help.”
    “Carlee?” Dave took her by the shoulders, favoring his injured hand. “What are you talking about?”
    Carlee shook her head, then brought her eyes around to face him. “I—I—” She didn’t know where to begin.
    “What happened to you?”
    “I—I guess it was the sight of all that blood. …”
    “You were acting like—I don’t know—like you were in a trance or something.”
    Carlee was suddenly aware that their two boys were standing around her with very concerned expressions on their faces. “I’m fine, everyone. Really I am. I was just … I don’t know. But I’m fine.” She took Dave’s hand and examined his wound. “Looks like you’ll live.”
    “Yeah.” Neither Dave nor the boys moved away from her. “We’re more concerned about you. You said something about blood, and—a woman?”
    Had she? She didn’t remember saying that. She didn’t remember speaking at all. And yet, she knew Dave wouldn’t lie. And she had seen something.
    She closed her eyes and tried to remember, but nothing came to her. It was gone.
    “I was just … daydreaming,” she said, doing her level best to sound convincing. “Probably induced by hunger.” She slapped her boys on the back. “I think it’s time for dinner. Any takers?”
    “I dunno,” Gavin said meekly. “Is it Beenie Weenies again?”
    Carlee laughed and guided them back to the designated mess tent. She tried to remain chipper while she fixed dinner, and tried to avoid doing anything that would alarm the children. She could tell Dave was watching her, though. He knew something had happened to her. Something serious. And it bothered him.
    Which was only natural, she supposed, because it bothered her, too. What had happened was incredibly strange. In fact, it was unlike anything she could—
    Remember.

11
    T HE BLAZING SUN WAS SETTING and the Bank of Oklahoma Tower, Tulsa’s tallest office building, cast a long shadow across downtown. Ben tried to walk in its shade, but that didn’t diminish the heat in the least. As soon as he stepped off the sidewalk, the humidity enveloped him. Like