Free Hell Released (Hell Happened Book 3) by Terry Stenzelbarton, Jordan Stenzelbarton Page A

administrator who doubled as his web designer and computer expert. The second year in business Jack showed a profit and married his office administrator.
    CJ was pulling into the driveway of his friend Jack, already knowing what he would find. The house was a simple modular ranch-style home. The grass in the lawn, which had never been manicured very well, was long and filled with weeds. Jack’s old Ford truck was in the drive next to his wife’s Camry. Without going inside CJ knew Jack would have died with his wife.
    CJ couldn’t help himself. He went in the house anyhow, using the key Jack always hid under a rock in the corner by the entryway. The house was dark and silent and even though CJ knew, he had to see. We walked down the hallway to their bedroom and opened the door. The smell was terrible. Jack was in the bed, but his wife had taken her own life with the pistol still in her body’s hand. CJ closed the door.
    He banged his head against the closed door and cried out “Why? Why is this happening?”
    No answer came.
    CJ knew Jack always had some weed around. He’d had eye problems from a poorly aimed air rifle pellet when the two were teenagers. He said the weed help alleviate the pain from the headaches.
    CJ had never done drugs because of the constant testing by the NCAA and WTA, but he didn’t judge Jack on his use.
    There wasn’t an NCAA anymore, or a WTA. CJ had nothing stopping him from smoking now. He also had the granddaddy of all headaches coming on so he walked back down the hall to Jack’s office. He had to search, but he found what he was looking for locked in the bottom drawer of Jack’s desk. It took some jimmying with a screwdriver, but CJ got the drawer open and pulled out the metal box.
    The smell of the rotting bodies was permeating the house so CJ went outside. It was warmer now so CJ walked over the building where Jack put together the pieces for the survival shelters. There was a picnic table beside the entry door and CJ sat down at it.
    He opened the metal box and found a baggy with weed, some papers, a small lighter, six or eight buds and four rolled cigarettes. CJ thought about what he was going to do. He’d been clean all his life, not even getting drunk on his 21st birthday because of a tennis tournament. He’d never done any illegal drugs because he’d seen what they had done to some many other athletes’ careers.
    He didn’t care anymore. Everything he knew was gone. He’d buried his mom a few days earlier, laid his dad’s body beside her just yesterday and overnight something had ripped the bodies apart. His world wasn’t what it was a month ago and CJ felt insanity slipping from him. He was crying, he was scared, he was lonely, and he didn’t want to live but he was too afraid to die.
    CJ lit the first cigarette and smoked it until it was too hot for his fingers. He’d seen Jack use the alligator clips to hold the cigarette, but he couldn’t get it to work. He wasn’t feeling anything so he lit up a second and inhaled deep. He coughed again and again, but he wanted to know what the draw to smoking the weed was.
    CJ’s limbs started feeling rubbery and his ears were filling with white noise, but he could still picture in his mind’s eye the sight of his dad’s body.
    He pulled out the third joint and lit it. In five minutes he’d already smoked more marijuana than his friend Jack did in three months. CJ inhaled deep, drawing nearly a quarter of the length of the joint into his lungs. His body wanted to cough, but he wouldn’t. He held his breath as long as he could.
    Smoke exploded from his nose and mouth when he laughed.
    He couldn’t help himself. He didn’t know what it was that was funny, but something was. He inhaled on the joint again, his deepest breath yet. He held it in as long as he could until he lost concentration because of the sound of the wind in the chimes on the house. The soft music they were playing interested CJ like nothing he’d ever