He’d been dating Pam, one of her long-time girlfriends. But Pam had taken a job in Salt Lake City, and Tom had stayed behind. The two had always enjoyed each other’s company, and things just naturally happened on their own. She’d never told Pam that they were sleeping together, but she hadn’t talked to Pam for a few months now anyway.
The message was sweet, Tom wishing her a good day, and a promise of a night out. He had a way of knowing what she needed. That was the kind of thing that eventually went away with all of her previous marriages.
Would Tom go with her to Boston?
She had a sudden fear of showing up to her date smelling like the car. The house didn’t have a garage, and there weren’t any cars outside. His profile showed that he’d been at the same job for twenty years, at a local investment firm, and that he was single. She pulled her tablet out of her briefcase and pinged the boy’s location again. Yes, he was definitely in the house.
She got out and took a deep breath of fresh air, put on her business face, and approached the house. She didn’t have any real authority, but if this man had the kids she could call the police. Most people were cooperative, but she dealt with all types. She rang the doorbell and waited, but as expected, nobody answered. Things like this ruined her day. She’d have to wait for hours until Mr. Finkle came back from work, and that meant being stuck in that smelly car. She thought about getting some other work done, but thought better of it. Her bosses were wound up over Gus’s death. It didn’t bother her so much, she’d hardly known him.
She walked slowly back to her car, hating how cruel life could be. If Mr. Finkle didn’t return at a reasonable time she’d end up missing her date with Tom.
She sat behind the steering wheel, looking up and down the street. She blamed the kid for this, being stuck in a hot car in the middle of September with the constant stench of rot. If she didn’t know better she’d almost think it was still in the car with her. How the Hell had the boy escaped? He seemed hardly functional, nearly shutting down from whatever abuse he’d suffered.
“When I find that kid I’m going to shut him down myself,” she muttered aloud.
Seriously, her stomach rolled from the stench. The windows didn’t seem to make much difference. She glanced in the rearview mirror to check her make-up. As she adjusted the mirror, a reflection of something behind her caught her eye. Dark eyes in a corpse-like face stared back at her, its mouth frozen in a rictus grin, teeth filthy with dried blood.
She managed a brief scream before the thing lunged forward, hands grabbing her neck and choking off breath. She dug her fingers between her skin and his hands, fighting to break its hold. How could the thing be so strong? It was unreal! Futilely she struggled, but it yanked her back hard against the seat. She couldn’t pull her eyes from the thing’s, the frozen expression of its face gave it the appearance of morbid glee, and its fingers tightened a little more.
Its breath and deathly rasp came loud next to her ear, as it pulled her head back toward its own. She felt the blood fight to pump to her head, pounding in her temples. She couldn’t seem to keep her tongue in her mouth.
With one more powerful yank, it dragged her over the seat by her neck. She struggled, but it held her easily with one hand as it reached down on the floor with the other. It returned with her hammer. It raised it over her face as it sniffed the tool. Terror swept over her as she realized that it had no intention of choking her. Fate was cruel, she remained conscious for what felt like an eternity as the thing left her unrecognizable.
8
The basement was unfinished. Aside from a few dusty cardboard boxes, a single bed, a folding chair, furnace, and a water heater, it was empty. Josh wandered through the room trying to find something he’d missed, maybe a window he could crawl through. Nothing broke the completeness of the concrete foundation there were no windows to provide any hope.
The promise of home seemed as far away as ever. Despite Norman’s promises, Josh had the sinking feeling that he didn’t plan on helping him, and that he didn’t want to be here when the man returned. He tried the door several times that first hour, in hopes of it magically unlocking itself, but eventually gave up.
His arm throbbed horribly. It hurt from his fingertips clear up into his back. It had grown worse, and he couldn’t move it at all. It hung limply at his side.
A single bulb lit the room, providing plenty of light in the middle, but left the rest of the room in deep shadows. Thick cobwebs plastered the walls and ceiling, and the few spiders he saw were large enough to encourage him to give them plenty of space.
The day passed slowly by, and though he grew tired, he didn’t dare rest. He needed to be awake and alert. When he heard a door open upstairs, the hair on the back of his neck rose. He quickly made another loop around the basement, but there was nothing more to discover. There wasn’t even anything he could use as a weapon. Tears welled up in his eyes. He had no place left to run.
He could hear footsteps as someone moved across the floor boards from the main floor. Something was wrong, they didn’t sound normal. Drag Thump. Drag Thump. Drag Thump. That isn’t Norman, he realized, despair flooding through him, it’s the monster.
Maybe it didn’t know where he was. But how did it even know he was in this house? If it had tracked him across the city, it wouldn’t be put off by a locked door. Briefly he considered hiding, but that left him feeling more vulnerable. It reminded him of the tent. But this time, he wouldn’t shut down. He wished he could, he wanted to be broken. It had become his only defense against the world.
Drag Thump. It moved across the floor above him. Drag Thump. It knew where he was, and it knew how to reach him. Drag Thump. Maybe it didn’t have the key! Maybe it didn’t need one. Nobody had locks inside their houses that required keys.
He realized only one option remained for him. He ran up the wooden steps to the door and grabbed the handle with his good hand. If the monster hadn’t known where he was, it did now, his own feet sounded way to loud as he’d ran up.
He gripped the doorknob as tightly as he could and waited. He adjusted his grip a few times, feeling his palm grow sweaty against the metal. He heard the monster approach the door and stop. Seconds dragged by as he waited. What was it doing? He listened, trying to separate the sound of the creature from the sound of his rapidly beating heart. Yes, he could hear it. Its breathing was still loud enough to hear through the door. No, it’s sniffing, he thought, it’s smelling me.
The door handle clicked in his hand. The monster had unlocked it. The door handle twisted in his palm. He squeezed it, but his hands were too slick to maintain a good grip, and his other hand was useless. The door pulled away from him, threatening to take him along with it, and he let it go, running back down the stairs.
In the light of the now open door, he saw the silhouette of the creature. It leaned awkwardly against the doorway. The smell of the thing instantly filled the room. It placed one hand on the banister and the other on the concrete wall and guided itself carefully down the steps.
Josh didn’t believe for a second that the creature’s difficulty meant it was weak. It still wore the guard’s uniform, but blood and gore covered it. The monster paused and reached behind it to pull the door shut. It descended the steps slowly, eyes locked on him.
Josh backed across the room until the walls prevented him from going any further. The monster reached the bottom of the stairs and took its first irregular step into the room.