Shifting Life

33. Bolt

The piece in Petra's hand looked like the homely lovechild between a drill and a stapler. Jacklyn only caught a glance before Petra pressed metal to the back of Matt's head.

"You smashed Oscar's head in," said Petra to Jacklyn.

"What is that thing?" Matt said.

Dread pooled in Jacklyn's stomach. She had seen one before. Her ears twitched. Horsey-sense felt bad things in the making.

"The sausage maker," said Petra, mouth tightening into a thin hard line.

Matt slowly raised his hands. He looked calm, but his eyes had a blank empty look.

He was out of time. He just didn't believe it yet.

"Don't move," Petra told him. "Just die."

A loud pop and the world stopped. Jacklyn thought her heart stopped, too.

Petra slammed into Matt's back so hard he stumbled forward. Petra fell to the floor, a big hole in the back of her head.

Jacklyn stared at Matt, relief hitting her like a tsunami. She pulled herself together. She kneeled by Petra, checking for a pulse. "She's still alive," she whispered.

Jacklyn glanced up at Matt.

White as a sheet, he stared at Petra's motionless body.

"There's a hole in her head," he said. "Who made a hole in her head?"

"Sit," Jacklyn ordered.

Matt sank down on the chair. He didn't seem to notice he was sitting on the crowbar. He sought her eyes and repeated his question.

"You're wearing the coat," Jacklyn said. "Or you'd be the one with the hole in your head."

Matt couldn't believe it. "She killed me? Just like that? I wasn't a threat."

"It wasn't about you. Not everything is about you."

Jacklyn gave the weapon in Petra's limp hand a glance. She felt it radiate like a negative force field, heavy with the shadows of countless deaths. "It's a bolt gun. For slaughter," she said.

"Is the bullet plugging the wound in her head?" Matt asked. "There's hardly any blood..."

Jacklyn shook her head. "The bolt retracts. It's supposed damage the brain so the animal won't suffer, but keep the heart going till they're all bled out."

"How do you know?"

She'd taken a job a horse ranch just after she'd started shifting. She'd had the idea that maybe she should shift for good. Be full time horsey. Her family had cut her off and she had no one. But the horses in the stable had shunned her. They knew there was something off. They knew she was more than horse and more than human, no matter how much she'd tried to conceal it. The vet didn't help. His idea of flirting had been to show her his bolt gun. She hadn't stayed long.

Jacklyn didn't answer Matt's question, just shrugged.

"We should call 911," she said. "Get an ambulance. I don't want another death."