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One of the small glass windows in the front of his house had been broken, most likely by a rock, but it wasn't big enough for anyone to fit through. Jack was surprised the house was still empty, and not housing a group of degenerates, or ransacked for its sparse furniture, after all this time. But then, he knew the folk around here were far too superstitious to live under the roof of somewhere a murder had taken place. Bernie probably kept a vigilant eye on the place, living only several houses down himself.
Jack went around back, finding some hay for Billy, then jimmying the door and stepping foot over the threshold. He was completely caught off guard by the unique aroma of leather and wood, immediately invading his nostrils. He tried to breathe, to calm himself down. The kitchen was devoid of everything, but clean, and bare, the small window completely covered by a giant spider web, the creature itself now crawling across the counter. Jack picked it up and threw it outside, then made his way into the living room.
The wooden floorboards creaked under his weight, kicking up some dust with each step. Everything was as he remembered it, but it seemed Bernie had come in and cleaned things up. What a great friend he was, Jack thought, having removed almost all traces of the crime that had been committed, even though he hadn't known if Jack would be coming back. He paused in front of the fireplace, replaying a vivid memory of him and Billy as kids, when their parents were still alive, laughing, basking in each other's warmth.
Then Jack heard a crash behind him, and spun around, his hand immediately on his holster, feeling the comforting, cool metal of his pistol beneath his fingertips. He didn't move, his back against the wall, unwilling to move in case the loud spurs of his boots gave away his position.
He waited, watched as Fiona slowly entered the room, taking a few steps past him. He noticed she was carrying something in one hand but it was too dark to make it out. "Jack?" she called out.
In one swift movement, Jack unglued himself from the wall, covering Fiona's mouth with his hand to prevent her from crying out. He muffled her screams, then felt her elbow jab into his stomach. Jack reeled backwards, watching Fiona whip around with her fist ready to smash into his face.
"Oh, it's you," she said with a sigh of relief, the anger that had just contorted her face dissipating. Jack caught his breath, momentarily winded.
Fiona burst out laughing. "Are you okay?" she asked, helping him to his feet. "I didn't mean to-- I thought-- well, I saw the horse out back-- and the back door was open-- "
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