But it seemed odd that Jeremy would be home. If he had managed to sneak out of the lock-in, he certainly wouldn’t be rushing home to admit what he’d done. He’d probably visit a few friends, then try to sneak back in the church before they noticed him gone. Not only that, while Lisa hadn’t actually talked to Jeremy, she had talked to Brother Talley and he’d said Jeremy was there. In fact, Brother Talley said he’d just seen him in the church’s fellowship hall raiding the refrigerator.
The doorbell ran again and Jeremy’s voice came from outside, “Come on, Mom, let me in. It’s cold.”
And why didn’t Jeremy just use his key? Had he lost it?
“Lisa, are you going to let the boy in, or what?” Dan asked, without pulling his eyes away from the late night macho movie staring Sly Stallone.
Lisa finally got up and walked to the door. Jeremy stood there, his arms wrapped tightly around himself. Where’s his car? Lisa thought. Nothing seemed right, but there he was, standing in front of the door.
“Mom?”
Maybe he’s had an accident. All hesitation fled and Lisa unlocked the door in hurry.
As soon as Lisa slipped the bolt, the door was pushed open and into her with incredible speed and force. She fell back, taking a coat rack down with her. Jeremy leaped over Lisa and into the living room.
Dan was almost out of his chair. “What the hell’s gotten into… ” From a position slightly behind the recliner, the Jeremy-thing swung at Dan in a wide hooking blow that was amazingly fast and catlike. The blow caught Dan on the back of his right shoulder.
Lisa watched from the floor as she tried to untangle herself from the fallen coat rack with its numerous coats and hats. She couldn’t see anything in Jeremy’s hand. In fact, the blow was open handed, but when he hit his father on the shoulder, it made four deep gouges running from his upper arm to the middle of his back. Dan cried out and stood with his back arched in pain, looking up at the ceiling, his right arm trying in vain to reach over his right shoulder, and his left arm searching blindly for support. Jeremy then came around with a blow with his left hand, this one tearing deep gouges into the back of Dan’s head. The flayed strips of scalp hung loose, revealing the white skull underneath.
Finally out from under the coat rack and the coats and hats, Lisa screamed as she gained her footing.
Dan collapsed to the floor, and Jeremy turned to his mother. His posture was weird. His legs were bent, almost at right angles, and his arms hung straight down at his sides.
“What’s wrong with you?” Lisa screamed.
Jeremy sprang at her. The coat rack was still in her hands so Lisa threw it at Jeremy and ran screaming out the front door and onto the porch.
As she descended the front porch steps and started across the yard, she risked a look over her shoulder. Jeremy was bounding along the front porch running on all fours like an ape. He reached the edge of the porch and leaped for her, hitting her right in the middle of the back.
He was on top of her, “Jer…” was all she managed to get out before he sank his teeth into her left shoulder.
Lisa screamed.
Over the last two days, activity at the Sheriff’s Department had increased dramatically. Captain Jones had used his influence to bring in outside help. Six state troopers were reassigned to Newton to help patrol the area and over a dozen game wardens were brought in from all over the state. A team of bloodhounds was even brought in to track down whoever or whatever was doing all the killings, although a brief, yet heavy, rainstorm on the night after Sam’s arrival made using the dogs on any of the old tracks impossible.
It was 9:00 a.m. when Mrs. Thelma Burke called and said her neighbor’s kid had run to her house wailing and shouting. She managed to calm the boy enough to make sense of his hysterics. He told her he had come home from a lock-in at the Methodist Church and found someone dead in his front yard. The body had been torn to shreds, but the poor boy had recognized his mother’s bracelet.
One of the new game wardens was first on the scene. Bill was second. As Bill drove up, he could tell that the game warden was spooked. The officer had parked his SUV behind Dan Chamblin’s pickup. He was between these two vehicles, leaning on his truck. His rifle was gripped tightly in his hands and it looked like he was ready to start blazing away at the first sign of movement.
Bill hadn’t been sleeping too well since he’d changed his residence to his office, and adding a new killing to the five already being investigated didn’t do much to improve his already gruff disposition.
“Put that damn gun up before you accidentally shoot someone,” he told the game warden as he approached.
The man was as white as a ghost and his hands were trembling. At first he didn’t move or speak, then he managed a “Yes, sir,” but still didn’t move an inch. In the grass, right in front of the game warden, lay the breakfast he had eaten two and a half hours ago.
Bill walked over to where the game warden was standing and he saw what had the man so shaken up. A vaguely human form lay sprawled in a patch of bloodstained grass near the middle of the yard. All of the meat was eaten away across both shoulders and on down the left side of the back. The left arm looked like it had been chewed off; the forearm lay about two feet above the body, and the upper left arm and left shoulder from the left side of the neck to the uppermost ribs was missing.
Bill had seen quite a few of these recently, but the sight still stunned him for a few seconds. Then he turned to the game warden. “Hurst,” he read off the game warden’s nameplate, “did you check inside?”
“N-No.”
Without another word, Bill started toward the door.
When Bill first walked inside the double-wide trailer, he noticed the fallen coat rack, coats, and hats in the doorway. He called out to see if anyone was home but got no answer. Bill then continued into the living room where he looked briefly around, before going into the kitchen. He looked through all the bedrooms, found nothing, and was walking back into the living room when he noticed a pair of socked feet sticking out from behind the coffee table. Another victim, no doubt. The coffee table had apparently concealed the body from sight when Bill had first come in. This body was not nearly as bad off as the one in the yard. Blood was all over its back from a nasty wound across the shoulders. Another more serious wound was on the back of its head leaving a portion of the skull bare. In some areas where the skull was visible, deep grooves could be seen across the bone; a small amount of grey matter had even seeped out in one area.
Bill leaned down to investigate the wound; it seemed that the blood was still seeping out. Bill reached and felt the body’s arm. It was warm.
He’s alive!
Jana may have only been a reporter for six years, but she knew how to find out when the game was afoot. She and Bob were currently staying in adjoining rooms at the Pineywoods Inn, a ratty little twelve-room motel on Highway 190, just around the corner from the Newton County Jail. At a little after nine o’clock Bob had called her into his room to tell her there was a lot of activity on their police scanner. They listened in but every time the sheriff (she would recognize his voice anywhere) came on he would tell someone to turn to a coded channel. Then the phone rang in Jana’s room. It was Alice Pender, a little old lady who owned a beauty shop in town. Jana knew beauty shops were the prime source for good gossip in a small town and had promised Mrs. Pender a reward if she came up with any useful information. Alice told Jana she had heard that the monster-thing, as she called it, had attacked the Burke family. Jana asked if Alice knew where the Burke family lived; she did. Jana quickly jotted down the address.