Page 88 of Scarred

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Except it doesn’t feel like a rock. It feels kind of…pliable. That’s the last I think of it, though, because the beaver poop awaits. I step out of the water. The creek goes down a little when I step out, my body having displaced it. I cast a glance toward where I stumbled, and—

My legs turn to jelly, but I catch myself before I lose my footing.

“Oh shit,” I breathe. My heart skips a beat and my skin chills as I go numb.

It’s not a rock.

It’s gray, and gnarly, and…

It’s looking straight at me with translucent, sightless eyes.

My gut clenches and I hold back the puke that threatens to erupt.

It’s a head. A human head, most likely attached to a body.

A very dead body, what is left of it.

I open my mouth to yell for Lexie, but nothing comes out.

My legs give way, and I tumble to the muddy ground, my vision blurring.


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