Frank’s one eye broke from her gaze and his posture sagged. With a heavy, miserable breath he seemed to age an additional twenty years before her eyes.
“Now, there’s a question I’ve asked myself more than once over the years,” he said, “and every time I do, I wonder if it would have really made a difference.”
“What does that mean?” she asked in a softer tone.
Frank looked at the ground and cleared his throat, perhaps buying more time before needing to answer. “I’m fifty-seven years old and I need to sleep with the lights on. Sometimes I wet myself in my sleep from the nightmares I have of Kane’s basement, of seeing my friends slaughtered. And when I’m alone, it takes me almost an hour to work up the courage just to take the garbage out. You can imagine how hard it was for me to come all the way out here tonight. I don’t have any family left, my friends stopped visiting when I was reluctant to leave my home, and I haven’t been with a woman since this whole mess started. Believe me, Detective, sometimes it seems like I’m already dead.”
Frank’s revelation of how his experiences had affected him left Melissa speechless. She found herself unable to meet the humility in his eyes. Instead, she turned and stared at the glowing windows of the ranch house.
“Up until now, I believed the entity to be a transient being,” Frank resumed, “going from one person to the next, abandoning its devotee whenever it desired. That’s what had me scared half-crazy for so long, thinking it could show up at any time, which is why I invested in all this elaborate sensory equipment after I retired. You may not have noticed it, but I have an EMF reader in every corner of my apartment. I needed the peace of mind. But now, with all this taking place after Kane’s death, I’m starting to think that the entity didn’t come after me simply because it couldn’t. If Kane and this monster were performing some sort of union spell, something to blend them together, and if we hurt Kane badly enough before it was finished, the entity could’ve been trapped inside his half-dead body. That might explain all the thrashing around I told you about, all the incoherent ranting; it was the entity realizing it had bonded with a dying body, too weakened from casting the original spell to free itself. It was stuck.”
The wind hustled a gathering of dried leaves across the driveway, producing a sound like scuffling feet. Melissa and Frank spun to face the noise, but relaxed when they realized what it had been.
Frank faced her. “We can defeat it, Melissa. I’m prepared this time, everything from holy water to plastic explosives with remote detonators.”
“Explosives,” Melissa echoed.
Frank smirked. “When you deal with bad guys all your life you learn where they shop.”
She looked away again. Despite what a dedicated detective he’d been in the past, Melissa had the disheartening feeling that Frank’s original bout with Kane had left mental wounds that might never heal.
In the distance she saw lights approaching, heard the wavering sound of far-off sirens. Behind them, several fingers of lightning reach over the horizon and gripped the cloudy sky. No thunder rumbled in the air.
Not yet.
CHAPTER 34
BJ dashed through the back lawn of another yard, not sure who the yard belonged to or how far he’d come from his own house. His only certainty came from the driving urgency to get away, even if it meant fleeing into the unknown.
High overhead, thick clouds closed out the heavens, blocking the starlight and limiting visibility to only a few feet. Obstacles exploded out of the night in his path, then faded away in his wake as fast as they’d appeared. He didn’t stop.
The cool grass cushioned the bare soles of his feet, but the roughed patches of dirt still retained a noticeable degree of warmth leftover from the day. Skyward, the wind bent the treetops, each pulsating gust stronger than the last. All around him the looming branches whispered a warning to remain quiet.
Shhh, Shhh, Shhhhhhh.
When he wasn’t looking for what obstacle would jump out at him next—bush, flowerbed, birdbath—he searched for a lit house where he might be able to find help. So far, all the buildings ahead appeared to be abandoned. Set against the white painted walls, their blackened window glass looked cold and uninviting.
He’d entered another yard—the grass reached slightly higher here, tickling his ankles—when the heart-stopping sound of a snapping twig caused him to skid to a stop and take cover behind a low shrub.
Holding back his burning breath, trying not to let out the wail of fear that squirmed inside his throat like a living animal, BJ hunkered down and forced himself to remain motionless.
At first, all went silent—all except for the wind and the trees. Soon, a stealthily hidden swarm of crickets began to sing, followed by the distant barking of a dog somewhere on the other side of the neighborhood; its heavy woofs seemed muffled by the umbrella of sooty clouds above.
Then the twig-snapping noise again.
The crickets’ song stopped.
Goosebumps marched across his arms.
He lay down on his stomach and eased himself backward, sliding farther under the shrubs. Across the yard stood a row of box-shaped bushes that divided this yard from the one behind it, and it sounded like the source of the noise lay concealed somewhere behind one of those tall plants.
Lying in the grass, with the earthy scents of plant and dirt filling his nostrils, BJ closed his eyes and thought about his dad and Mallory, praying Lori had been telling him the truth about how to ward off monsters.
The Killer navigated the wide sea of the night like an eel cruising through black oil, gliding from point to point, unimpeded by the darkness. Traveling through shadows, it crossed great distances in an instant and passed through solid obstacles like they didn’t exist.
At first, it proceeded with the deliberate grace of a superior hunter, searching for BJ’s trail. It drifted sedately among the yards, stalking the most likely hiding spots, confident the boy hadn’t gotten far. But while the search widened and the boy remained undetected, the entity spanned out from the Wiess property and searched neighboring homes. It flew faster, its rage and frustration building, until it became a frenzied beast running on predatory instinct. It dashed from one area to the next, depending entirely on its ability to sense life energy to seek out the boy.
And still nothing.
Somehow, BJ had escaped.
But how could such an inept quarry have eluded it… unless a greater power protected him.
Its anger boiled at the thought.
If it didn’t find BJ, it wouldn’t be able to coerce Paul Wiess into helping it retrieve Kane. It couldn’t afford another failure; there had been too many already.
No! Tonight, one way or another, it would prevail. The separation from Kane had left it weakened, the long wait having drained its power, but it had grown stronger with each victim and now it was ready for the reunion, ready for revenge.
Then, at last, a glimmer of psychic energy.
It shot toward the back end of the neighborhood, beyond the last line of homes bordering the forest. But when the boy came into view, it discovered that the life energy it detected didn’t belong to BJ but to one of Mallory’s friends.
Tim.
The entity watched, invisible to his human eyes.
He crossed the street and entered the woods, striding deeper into darkness.
And he was alone.