"Not this time, Suzie," I said. "I have a really bad feeling about this house."
"You're always having bad feelings."
"And I'm usually right."
"True."
I made my way slowly up the stone steps. There still wasn't anyone around, but I could feel the pressure of watching eyes. Suzie moved in beside me like I'd never been away, like she belonged there, her shotgun already in her hands. Joanna brought up the rear, looking a little upset at being pushed into the background by Suzie's presence. The sound of our feet on the stone steps seemed unusually loud and carrying, but it didn't matter. Whatever was waiting for us inside the house that wasn't just a house, it knew we were there. I stopped before the door. There was no bell. No knocker or letter-box, either. I rapped on the door with my fist, and the wood seemed to give slightly under each blow, as though it was rotten. The sound of my knocking was eerily soft, muffled. There was no response from within.
"Want me to blow the lock out?" said Suzie.
I tried the door-handle, and it turned easily in my grasp. The discoloured metal of the door-knob was unpleasantly warm and moist to the touch. I rubbed my hand roughly on the side of my coat, and pushed the door open with the tip of my shoe. It fell back easily. Inside, there was only an impenetrable darkness, and not a sound anywhere. Joanna pushed in beside me, staring eagerly into the dark. She opened her mouth as though to call out to Cathy, but I stopped her. She glared at me again. There was an urgency in her now. I could feel it. Suzie produced a
flashlight from some hidden pocket, turned it on and handed it to me. I nodded my thanks, and played the bright beam back and forth across the hallway before me. Hardly anything showed outside the beam, but the hall seemed long and wide and empty. I moved slowly forward, and Joanna and Suzie came with me. Once we were safely inside, the door closed behind us if its own volition, and none of us were a bit surprised.
TEN - In the Belly of the Beast
The house was dark and empty, utterly quiet and almost unnaturally still. It was like walking into a hole in the world. It felt like something was holding its breath, while it waited to see what we would do next. My back and stomach muscles tensed as I walked slowly down the wide hallway, anticipating an attack that somehow never came. There was danger all around me, but I couldn't put a name to it, couldn't even tell what direction it might come from. I hadn't felt this nervous in the future Timeslip. But some traps you just have to walk into to get to where you're going.
Shadows danced jerkily around me as I played the
beam of my flashlight back and forth. For all its brightness, the beam didn't make much of an impression on the dark. I could make out the hall before me, two doors leading off to the right, and a stairway to my left that led up to the next floor. Ordinary, everyday sights made somehow sinister by the atmosphere they were generating. This was not a healthy place. Not for three small humans, wandering blindly in the dark. The air was thick and oppressive, hot and moist, like the artificial heat of a greenhouse, where great fleshy things are forced into life that could not normally survive. Suzie moved silently along beside me, glaring about her. She hefted her shotgun and sniffed heavily.
"Damp in here. Like the tropics. And the smell... I think it's decay ..."
"It's an old place," I said. "No-one's looked after it in years."
"Not that kind of decay. Smells more like ... rotting meat."
We exchanged a look, and then carried on down the hallway. Our slow footsteps echoed hollowly back from the bare plaster walls. No furniture, no fittings; no carpets or comforts of any kind. No decorations, no posters or paintings or even calendars on the walls. Nothing to show that anyone had ever lived here. That thought seemed significant, though I couldn't for the moment see how. We were, after all,
in Blaiston Street. This wasn't a place where people came to live like people ...
"Have you noticed the floor?" Suzie said quietly.
"What in particular?" I said.
"It's sticky."
"Oh, thanks a bunch," said Joanna. "I really didn't need to know that, thank you. The moment I get out of here I'm going to have to burn my shoes. This whole place is diseased."
She was right back at my side again, staring almost twitchily about her. But she seemed more ... impatient, than anything else. She didn't like the house, but it was clear the setting wasn't disturbing her anywhere near as much as it was getting to Suzie and me. Which was ... curious. I assumed being this close to finding Cathy at last had driven all other thoughts aside. We stopped in the middle of the hall and looked around us. Suzie lowered her shotgun a little, having no-one to point it at.
"Looks like the last occupants of this dump did a moonlight flit, and took everything with them that wasn't actually nailed down."
I just nodded. I didn't trust myself to say anything sane and sensible, for the moment. I was feeling increasingly jumpy. There was an overwhelming sense of being watched, by unseen, unfriendly eyes. I kept wanting to look back over my shoulder, convinced I'd find something awful crouching there, waiting to spring; but I didn't. There was no-one there. Suzie
would have known. And you don't last long in the Nightside if you can't learn to control your own instincts.
A mirror on the wall beside me caught my attention. It took me a moment to figure out what was wrong with it. The mirror wasn't showing any reflection. It was just a piece of clear glass in a wooden frame. It wasn't a mirror at all.
There were two doors to my right, leading to rooms beyond. Ordinary, unremarkable doors. I moved slowly over to the nearest, and immediately Suzie was right there with me, shotgun at the ready. Joanna hung back a little. I listened carefully at the first door, but all I could hear was my own breathing. I turned the handle slowly. It was wet in my hand, dripping moisture, like it was sweating from the heat. I wiped my palm on the side of my coat, and then pushed the door open. Come into my parlour, said the spider to the fly.
The door swung easily open. The hinges didn't make a sound. The room beyond was completely dark. I stayed just inside the doorway and flashed my light around the room. The darkness seemed to suck up the light. Still no furnishings or fittings, no personal signs or touches. It looked more like a film set than anything someone might call home. I stepped back into the hall and moved down to the next door. The second room was just like the first.
"Whatever was going on here, I think we missed
it," said Suzie. "Someone must have told them I was coming."
"No," I said. "That's not it. Something's still here. It's just hiding from us."
I walked over to the foot of the staircase. Bare wooden boards, simple banisters. No frills or fancies. No scuff marks or traces of wear, either. It could have been old or new or anything in between. Almost as though untouched by humans hands ... I raised my voice in a carrying call.
"Hello! Anybody home?"
The close air flattened my voice, making it sound small and weak. And then from somewhere up on the next floor came the sound of a single door, slamming shut. Suzie and Joanna moved quickly over to join me at the foot of the stairs. And the door banged shut again, and again, and again. There was a horrid de-liberateness to the sound, almost taunting, an open violence that was both a threat and an invitation. Come up and see, if you dare. I put my foot on the first step, and the banging door stopped immediately. Somehow, it knew. I looked at Suzie, and then at Joanna.
"Someone's home."
Joanna surged forward, and would have gone running blindly up the stairs, if I hadn't grabbed her by the arm and made her stop. She pulled fiercely away, fighting to be free, not even looking back at me, and I had to use all my strength to hang on to her. I said