Monday, October 19, 2020

Sheila's Last Chapter

 It's been a while since Sheila has appeared on this blog. But I wanted to end her story. 

Here is that ending...

Photo by Andre Tan on Unsplash

Karma Comes Killing


After Jerry’s death, Sheila trudged quickly down the mountain in a light rainfall. She walked to Jerry’s car in the parking lot and wiped it down. She didn’t want her fingerprints to give her away. When she finished, she locked the extra set of keys in the glove compartment, careful not to allow herself to be seen by anyone. Exhausted, she started for home. By then, the rain was coming down in buckets. “Gosh, I’m horny,” she said and pulled up her collar against the rain. “Time to get back to town and find an able-bodied man to make me whole.”

Those thoughts filled her mind as she arrived at the main road and stuck out her thumb. The man that picked her up looked scruffy and smelled worse, but the inside of his truck was warm and dry.

He offered her a swig of whiskey from a new bottle, and she accepted. “Enjoy,” he said to her. “That’s some top of the shelf stuff. Just won me the lottery and spent my first thousand on several cases of God’s nectar.”

“Thanks. I’ve been walking for hours. Went for a short hike and got lost.”

“It’s easy to do. Been lost a few times myself. You didn’t say where you were going.”

“The first motel you see will be fine. I’m homeless at the moment. But I have enough for a decent night’s sleep and a hot shower!”

He looked her over, his striking blue eyes looked so much younger than his body belied. Almost familiar. Before she could find him in her memory, he dropped his gaze.

“You’re welcome to stay the night at my cabin. I wouldn’t mind a drinking partner.”

Sheila laughed. “You lookin to get laid, old man?”

He snorted. “Wish I could say yes, but the Vietnam War took my mojo. It’s why I love the drink. So what do you say? My turn off is just ahead. Or I can take you closer to town.”

“Your place sounds nice. I could use the company too,” Sheila said, pretending not to notice his lottery comment.

He turned off the road and headed back up the mountain. By the time he arrived at the cabin, Sheila felt a little car sick from all the twists and turns, but the fresh air quickly dispelled that feeling once she climbed out of the cab and took a few deep breaths.

He limped to the door and opened it for her. “Make yourself comfortable. I’m going to carry in a case or two to get us started. If you start the fire, I’ll bring in the wood. That way, you can warm yourself and dry out a little.”

She entered the dark cabin and looked for a light switch. There was none, but she found a lantern and a box of matches on the small kitchen table and lit the lamp. She gazed around the large room. A ratty sofa sat in one corner, a wooden counter with shelves above it sat in the other. The shelves were filled with dishes and boxed and canned food items. An old-fashioned cookstove fed with wood and stacked with iron skillets, and a coffee pot sat near the back door. In the far corner was a bed just as ratty as the couch. One wall held the fireplace, and in the middle of the room sat a rickety table with two chairs. It was rough but looked lived in. She lit the fire that had been prepared in the fireplace.

“A little too rustic, isn’t it?” she said when the stranger joined her.

He grumbled. “Never said it was a fancy bed and breakfast.”

“No, you didn’t. It’s nice enough, but I was expecting electricity. No bathroom either, I assume?”

“Of course, there is,” he said proudly. “Outback. Just picked up a new roll too. Help yourself.” He handed her a new roll of toilet paper that he takes from a grocery bag. If you take that pitcher,” he pointed to one sitting on a shelf by the door. “You can fill it with water from the barrel outside to wash with. Be sure to bring the roll back with you. If you leave it out there, the critters will get to it, or the dampness will!”

With a shrug, she walked out the back door to the outhouse. She set the pitcher on the porch near the water barrel and moved toward the doorless outhouse. When you’ve got to go, you go. After all, I just spent a night in the woods with Jerry. This is a mite better, she thought as she sat down on the cold, wooden seat. She watched the cabin, just waiting for the old guy to take a peek. She was surprised when he didn’t.

Back in the cabin, she found the old man lighting another lantern. He had the kitchen table set with bottles of Jack Daniels, a plate of cheddar cheese and a package of Ritz Crackers.

“Thought you might be hungry. If this won’t do, I’ve got eggs and bacon, but I was saving that for breakfast.”

“This is fine,” she said as she poured some water into a large bowl and washed her hands. She took off her jacket and sat down near the fire. She opened a new bottle, poured a glass, and took a big gulp. “This is so smooth.”

The old man smiled. “I’m glad you like it.”

She poured another glass, ate a chunk of cheese, and finished off that glass too. “You never told me your name—I’m Sheila.”

“I know, Sheila. I know. And you know me. Remember?” the old man said, then began to remove his facial hair and the gray wig on his face. He pulled off the prosthetics that made him look years older.

“Hank. Sheila. My name is Hank. And I’m here to make sure you pay for all the crimes you’ve committed.”

By now, the drug he’d coated her glass with had taken hold. Sheila could not fight him. She could barely stay in her seat, but she was still conscious enough to know she’d been had.

“How? How did you find me?”

“It wasn’t difficult. I almost had you, but then you disappeared up here. While I waited for you to reappear, I perfected my disguise and rented this place. I’ve been searching for you for days. What I don’t understand is why you were hitchhiking.”

“I couldn’t very well get caught in my last victim’s car, now could I?”

“So, you killed Jerry too? You work fast, girl. Too fast. Damn!” he shook his head. “You are one evil bitch, but I knew the minute I mentioned a winning lottery ticket that you couldn’t resist another opportunity.”

“You’re a bastard. But don’t worry, I’ll escape again,” she said before the world went dark, and her head hit the table.


But Hank wasn’t about to leave escape to chance. Sheila awoke to find herself in a sleeping bag on the porch of a very rustic cabin. As she stretched herself awake, she saw that several large, brown bears stood nearby. She immediately hurried inside but found that the place had no door. The door had already been torn off by the bears. It lay at her feet, and the smell of blood and meat assaulted her nostrils.

Realizing her error, she turned around and came face to face with a bear. The beast swatted her with his massive paw, and she went down in a heap. Blood poured from open wounds as the bear began dragging her outside where three smaller bears attacked.

Sheila was eaten alive. Her bones were found that next summer, and ID was found in the pocket of her jacket. The papers in Alaska carried the story of how an escaped murderer met her match in Alaska's wilderness. When the AP picked up the story, Hank read it and smiled. “Justice has finally been achieved!”

The End of Sheila


Want to know more about Sheila
Follow the links for her story:

Remember folks - this is all fiction -

an exercise of the imagination!

Happy Halloween!

Photo by Sašo Tušar on Unsplash

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