Ravenous by Ray Garton

but he had the feeling Ella was watching him while he wasn’t looking. Was his jitteriness that obvious?
    He could not rid his memory of the face of Deputy Garrett’s wife when he’d told her what had happened the night before.
    Fran Garrett was a thirty-year-old office manager in a large insurance office. She had short strawberry-blonde hair and a fair-complexioned face with a mouth that was just a tad too wide and smiling all the time— all the time. She was tall—five nine, or so—and curvy, animated when she talked, a little loud, with a generous laugh.
    When she opened the door late last night, she’d been in a pink terrycloth robe and had looked sleepy-eyed. She’d smiled at Hurley at first, then at Deputy Kopechne, but after looking around for her husband, the smile had melted away and the sleepy eyes opened a little wider.
    â€œHurley?” she said, her voice hoarse. “Is it ... is it ... Billy?”
    â€œI’m sorry, honey. I’m really sorry.”
    That wide mouth became wider as the corners pulled back and the eyes crinkled up and the left hand clutched at the front of her robe while the right slapped over her mouth. “Oh, no,” she said into her palm. “Oh, dear Jesus, no.” She trembled as tears spilled down her cheeks.
    Hurley stepped forward and took her in his arms, and she collapsed against him, seeming to shrink in his hold.
    Fran pressed her face to his shoulder and her words were muffled, but he understood them. “What huh-happened?”
    â€œWe’re not sure yet, Fran. We think it was some kind of animal.”
    She pulled away from him and searched his face, frowning above wide eyes. “ What ? A wha —an animal ?”
    He nodded once. “I’m afraid so. Something big and strong.”
    â€œI want to see him.”
    Hurley closed his eyes as he shook his head. “No, Fran. No, you don’t want that. Believe me. I’ve seen him. You don’t want to remember him like that. You can’t.”
    â€œThuh-that ... that bad?”
    â€œTake my word for it, Fran.”
    She’d fallen against him then, collapsing completely, and sobbed for a long time. Hurley pulled her over to the couch and gently sat her down. She slumped forward and put her face in her hands.
    After awhile, a small voice from inside the house said, “Mommy? What’samatter?”
    She’d lifted her head from her hands. She’d stood then, and bent down to pick up her little boy as she said, “Oh baby, oh baby.”
    â€œCan you call someone, Fran?” Hurley had said. “You shouldn’t be alone.”
    She’d nodded as she turned to him again. “I’ll call my parents. My whole family will be here within half an hour. Don’t worry, Hurley. Really. And thanks.”
    â€œOkay. Look, if there’s anything Ella or I can do, anything at all, you just let me know, day or night. Okay?”
    â€œI will. Thuh-thanks again, Hurley.”
    Along with that, Hurley kept remembering Garrett himself. A jagged, blood-blackened hole where his throat had been that revealed his torn trachea. His gut ripped open wide and his insides hanging out—what was left, anyway, what hadn’t been—
    Eaten, he kept thinking. He was eaten , for God’s sake.
    Hurley was unable to finish his breakfast. He sat there and poked at his waffle.
    â€œNot hungry?” Ella said. “The waffles are as good as ever.”
    Hurley took in a deep breath and let it out slowly as he shook his head. “I was hungry, but my appetite ... it left earlier this morning.”
    He kissed Ella goodbye, and he let his lips linger a little while on hers. With a spark of surprise, Ella responded and put a hand to his face. He pulled away and smiled at her, then went out and got into his Explorer and drove to work, getting to the station a few minutes after ten, his usual time. First thing he did when he sat