He let his gaze wander over the landscape, from the road at the far end of town that led to Boulder City and Vegas, to the dirt trail winding up to the goldmine.
He saw nothing untoward.
Yet something had disturbed his slumber, and the cry sounded closer the second time.
He lingered at the window, unable to find the source of the odd caterwaul. Then, after a few minutes, he noticed a disturbance that hadn’t been there before. It wasn’t much. Just a shifting of blackness upon blackness. But it was enough to draw his attention. There was something there, after all, lurking in the shadows beyond the thin pool of light cast by the lone streetlamp.
Decker made a note of the location and let the curtain fall back into place. He went to the nightstand and opened the drawer, retrieving a black Sig Sauer M17 handgun provided to him by CUSP prior to his departure from Maine. It was the same model used by the Armed Forces, and his own employer issued it for the same reason. It was rugged, with good weight and tighter dispersion than many of its predecessors. The extended magazine contained twenty-one hollow point rounds. More than enough for most situations.
Decker closed the drawer and slipped from his room into the corridor beyond. The hotel was quiet. The odd warbling cries had not disturbed anyone else. He debated waking one or both of the FBI agents, but then changed his mind. He wasn’t even sure what was out there. Most likely, it was some wild animal that strayed down from the mountains. It would probably be gone by the time he got outside.
Leaving the Feds to their slumber, Decker descended the stairs and crossed through the lobby to the hotel’s main doors. As he reached out to pull the latch back, there was a noise to his rear. He turned and saw Tieg, Robyn’s dog, standing several feet distant watching him. After a moment, the animal turned and padded back toward the small office behind the stairs, where the mutt slept at night.
Decker turned his attention back to the street. He opened the door a crack and stepped outside onto the veranda. Here he paused, looking to his left and right. He kept the gun to his side, ready to use it should the need arise. After affirming there were no immediate threats around the veranda, Decker turned his attention to the area where he’d seen movement from the hotel window.
Whatever had been moving through the darkness was not there now. Decker descended the steps. He was halfway to the spot where he had seen the shape slinking along, when he stopped, overcome by a sudden sense that he was no longer alone.
He held his breath, feeling exposed and vulnerable. A crazy thought popped into his head. That he’d been lured out here. That whatever he’d seen from the window above possessed enough intelligence to trick him into leaving the safety of the hotel. His immediate instinct was to retreat, even though he couldn’t identify an actual threat. Was he just reacting to the quiet and spooky surroundings? He didn’t think so. Decker had an innate ability to sense danger. It was what made him a good cop back in New York. It was how he’d survived more than one encounter with the supernatural over the past several months. Now his inner alarm was blaring as loud as it ever had.
Decker decided to trust his gut and go back inside. Until he caught a movement from the corner of his eye. He turned toward the leaning shell of a building with a broken and rotten boardwalk. And there, standing in the doorway, was a figure.
Decker drew a sharp breath. His heart pounded against his ribs. Blood rushed in his ears.
The figure stepped out of the gloom. It lurched toward him. An impossibly animated skeleton held together by dry, coriaceous skin mottled brown with age. And the sound when it walked… Like old bones grinding together.
Decker had seen enough.
He raised the gun and started backwards toward the hotel. His finger flexed on the trigger. But then he lost the will to fire. Worse, he couldn’t tear his gaze from the creature’s hypnotic eyes. Two burning pits of luminescent red fury that held him immobile as inexorably as if he were a fly caught in a spider’s web. Then he understood why the other victims hadn’t fled from this abomination. Because they couldn’t. And as the skeletal demon bore down upon him, Decker understood something else too. He might very well be living the last moments of his life.
Chapter Forty-Six
Decker watched the creature advance toward him, unable to do anything about it. On some level he knew he should defend himself, or at least retreat, but the voice inside his head sent a different message. It overwhelmed his sense of self-preservation. Melted it away. It spoke softly and soothed his fears, even though he didn’t understand the strange language. It told him not to worry, that everything would be over soon, and all he needed to do was keep watching those red burning eyes. And that’s exactly what Decker did, even as another part of his mind struggled to break free of the creature’s mesmeric gaze.
Then, from Decker’s right, more movement. A blur of light-colored fur that sped forward and leaped at his chest. The impact sent him tumbling to the ground, breaking the spell. As Decker’s senses returned, he found himself looking up into a pair of large brown eyes above a furry snout and lolling tongue. Tieg. The dog, apparently unaffected by the creature’s aura, had rushed to push Decker out of harm’s way.
Realizing the danger had not yet passed, Tieg jumped from Decker’s chest and turned back toward the approaching menace, lips curled back, teeth barred. It let out a guttural, low growl, and stepped forward, ready to attack.
Decker had lost his grip on the gun when he fell. He scrambled to his knees and hunted for it, frantic, before spying the weapon several feet away laying on the dusty ground. He lunged forward, scooping it up. He rolled sideways and raised the gun in a fluid movement, bringing the creature into his sights. He was careful not to look at those eyes again, though. If he did that, it would all be over.
Tieg was tensed to pounce. The dog’s hackles were up, fur bristling. The canine was about to attack. An effort that could only end one way.
Decker wasted no time.
Careful to fire above the defensive canine, he squeezed off three shots in rapid succession, each of which slammed into the creature’s chest, driving it backwards. He stood no chance of killing it. He knew this already because a gun hadn’t saved the two campers, whose remains he’d witnessed earlier that day. But it bought him time, and that was good enough.
Decker jumped to his feet and called to the dog, praying it would listen. For a moment Tieg ignored him, tensed to attack, then it turned and lopped over to Decker, casting a wary glance backwards toward the creature. He nudged the dog back toward the hotel and ran alongside it, taking the steps up to the veranda two at a time. He practically fell through the open doorway then turned and slammed it shut.
He leaned against the door, breathing heavily.
Robyn was standing in the lobby, eyes wide with fright. Moments later, the two FBI agents raced down the stairs, guns drawn.
“what’s going on?” Barnes asked, going to the window, and peeking out. “I heard shots.”
“The creature. It’s outside,” Decker said. He rubbed his forehead where the start of a headache pulsed. He almost felt hungover, even though he hadn’t been drinking. Was it a side effect of the creature’s mesmerism? “Everyone be careful. Don’t look it in the eye. It has a hypnotic gaze. That’s how it immobilizes victims.”
“There’s nothing there.” Barnes shook his head, bewildered. “The street is empty.”
“Are you sure?” Decker went to the other window. He pushed the curtain back with the barrel of his gun, keeping his eyes low to avoid being ensnared by the creature’s gaze yet again.
Special Agent Fowler came up behind him and peered over Decker’s shoulder. “I don’t see anything either.”
“I’m telling you. It was there. Damned thing almost got me.” Decker stepped from the window, lowering his gun. He glanced toward Tieg, who was now pressed against Robyn’s leg, the dog’s aggression having given way to fear. “The dog saved my life. If he hadn’t pushed me out of the way, I’d be a goner.”
&n
bsp; “Good boy,” Robyn said, kneeling next to the dog and patting his head. She looked up at Decker. “How could that creature be here? I thought it was in the mine?”
“Me too.” Decker was baffled. “It escaped last night and killed those poor campers, but we locked the gates and secured the mine entrance this morning. It should have been trapped.”
“Well, it wasn’t,” Fowler grumbled. “Everyone should stay inside until dawn. If Decker’s theory is correct, it’s sensitive to daylight and we’ll be safe then.”
“What about Carlton?” Robyn looked worried. “He’s all alone in the shack at the other end of town. I might not like him much, but I’d feel guilty if something happened.”
“I hadn’t thought of that,” Fowler replied. “Someone will have to go check on him.”
“Right,” Barnes said. “And bring him back here for the night, if he’ll come.”
“Good luck with that.” Robyn stood up and pushed her hands into her pockets. “I’ve already had that conversation and he refused.”
“The situation has changed. He’d be a fool to stay on his own tonight.”
“He is a fool,” Robyn replied. “And a stubborn one, at that.”
“We have to try,” Decker said. “Warn him of the danger, at least.”
“I’ll go,” Barnes said, although he looked none too pleased.
“I’ll accompany you,” said Decker. “It will be easier with two of us. We can watch each other’s backs.”
Barnes nodded. “That makes me feel better. You ready to do this?”
“No time like the present.” Decker checked his gun. He still had eighteen rounds. That should be enough for whatever trouble they encountered. “If we come under attack, whatever happens, do not look into the creature’s eyes. Understood?”
“Gotcha.”
Decker glanced back at Agent Fowler. “Lock the door behind us and don’t go outside for any reason.”
Fowler nodded.
“And look after Robyn. Make sure she stays safe,” Decker added.
“You two keep your eyes peeled out there,” Fowler said. “Take nothing for granted.”
“Always.” Decker exchanged a look with Barnes, then he pulled the door open and stepped back out into the night with the FBI agent right behind.
Chapter Forty-Seven
Decker and Barnes made their way down the street toward the ramshackle cabin inhabited by Carlton Miller. They moved carefully, senses on high alert. Decker scanned the landscape ahead of them while Barnes brought up the rear and covered his six.
Decker felt uneasy. Wherever the creature had gone, it couldn’t be far. He wondered if it was watching them right now, biding its time, waiting for the pair to be far enough from the hotel to render them vulnerable. It was intelligent. Of that, he was sure. The voice that whispered in his head, lulling him into a deadly trance, was all the proof he needed. But he couldn’t dwell on the ramifications of that right now. There was a job to do, and he needed to stay sharp.
Carlton’s shack was even more shabby up close than he expected. The entire building was leaning. A pane was missing from the only frontward facing window, and two more were cracked. There was barely any paint left on the battered and warped siding. The steps up to the front door sagged, and Decker wondered if his foot would go right through them. Next to them was a sign screwed onto the railing. It read, YOU KNOCK, I SHOOT.
“Charming,” Barnes whispered as they reached the building, turning his attention from the open road behind them to the old man’s shack. “Shall we flip a coin to see who’s going to knock?”
“I’ll do it,” Decker said. “I’ve already escaped death once tonight, I’m on a winning streak.”
“Or your luck’s about to run out,” Barnes observed flippantly.
“Yeah. Just watch my back.” Decker approached a dented World War Two Jeep parked up in front of the cabin. It looked like a derelict, but according to Robyn it was Carlton’s pride and joy. Skirting the aging vehicle, he climbed the steps and used the butt of his gun to rap three times on the cabin door.
When there was no answer, he tried again.
This time there was movement inside the cabin, and then a reedy voice spoke. “Who is it? Who’s out there? What do you want?”
“Carlton. Open the door,” Decker said, relieved the old man wasn’t following through on the warning sign nailed to his railing.
“Go away.”
“He sounds just fine to me,” Barnes said. “Tell him not to go outside and let’s get back to the hotel. Standing out here in the street like this, knowing what’s out there, is giving me the willies.”
“Carlton. Open up. We need to talk.” Decker tried the door handle and found it locked. “It’s important.”
For moment nothing happened, then he heard a lock disengaging. The door creaked open to reveal the old man dressed in a pair of boxer briefs and a stained white T-shirt. “Talk then. Make it quick. You woke me up.”
“We came to check on you. Make sure you’re safe.” Decker could see past Carlton into the shack. It was a mess. From his vantage point, he could see a rickety wooden table piled with dirty plates. A sweaty odor wafted out as the humid air inside the cabin escaped, causing Decker to wrinkle his nose.
“What? Why wouldn’t I be?” Carlton shook his head. “You got me out of bed for this?”
“You didn’t hear my gunshots?”
“Can’t say that I did.” The old man poked his finger toward his left ear. “I’m deaf on one side. Can’t hear for shit. If I’m lying on my good ear, the sky could fall, and I wouldn’t notice.”
“Sorry to have bothered you,” Decker said. “A word of advice, though. After we leave, lock up and don’t go outside until morning. It’s not safe.”
“No worries there. I’m going right back to bed.” Carlton scrunched his face up and let out a grunt of annoyance. “Which is where I’d still be if it weren’t for you.”
“Point taken.” Decker decided it wasn’t worth getting into a spat with the old man. “We’ll be on our way back to the hotel now.”
“Um. Maybe not.” Barnes backed up toward the cabin steps. He craned his neck upward into the night sky. “It’s coming back, and I swear, it sounds like the damned thing’s right above us.”
“That’s impossible.” Decker swung around, bringing his gun to bear, ready to fire. Above them, in the darkness, he could hear a beat of wings. He looked upward, searching the blackness. And then he saw it, soaring across the tops of the buildings and spiraling downward.
“Holy hell.” Carlton’s eyes flew wide with fear. “It’s a monster.”
“It always is,” Decker said dryly, as the creature touched down in the middle of the street twenty feet distant. He glanced between the two men. “Remember, whatever you do, don’t look into its eyes. That’s how it gets you.”
“Yeah.” Barnes scrambled up the steps. “What now?”
As if to answer his question, the creature threw its head back and let out a shrill screech. It lowered its arms, folding leathery, batlike wings to its sides. Then it started toward them in a shambling, creaking gait.
“Inside. Now,” Decker shouted, grabbing Barnes by his shirt collar and yanking him backwards toward the door. “If we stay out here we’re doomed.”
“Now wait a minute, you can’t just barge into my home.” Carlton tried to close the door.
“Not so fast.” Decker stuck a foot in the jamb and tugged it open again, then bustled the shocked FBI agent inside, before following him and slamming the door. There was a large bolt attached to the frame. He drew it across.
“I don’t trust that to hold,” Barnes said, pulling himself together. “We need to put something in front of that door. Barricade it.”
“How about this?” Decker crossed to an old chest of drawers standing against the cabin’s sidewall.
“Perfect.” Barnes joined him and together they dragged the heavy piece of furniture across the floor and pushed it up against
the door. “That should hold it.”
“Hey.” Carlton was standing, hands on hips, a look of indignation on his face. “You’re wrecking the place.”
“I hardly think so,” Decker replied. “Five decades of neglect appear to have beat me to it.”
“You don’t need to be mean after I let you in here.” Carlton was sucking on his lower lip. “I probably saved your lives.”
“You didn’t save our lives,” Decker said. “You tried to slam the door and leave us to fend for ourselves against that creature out there.”
“I panicked, that’s all.” Carlton waved a dismissive hand and hobbled across to the bed in the corner of the one-room shack, where he flopped down.
“Whatever you say.” Decker went to the window. The creature was still there, standing in the street, observing the shack. But it made no move to approach. Then, with another warbling screech, it unfurled a pair of hideous wings and took to the sky where it disappeared from view.
“It’s gone again,” Barnes said from his position at Decker’s rear, peering over his shoulder. “Thank the heavens for that.”
“For now.” Decker searched the sky but could not see the creature anymore. “But I’m not sure I want to step out there again anytime soon. How many hours until dawn?”
Barnes checked his watch. “Three, give or take.”
“Then I guess we hunker down here until then.” Decker glanced toward Carlton, who sat perched on the edge of the bed glaring at them. “Looks like you’ve gotten yourself a couple of roommates.”
Chapter Forty-Eight
Decker and Barnes spent the rest of the night huddled inside Carlton Miller’s cabin. Neither man felt comfortable sitting on the stained sofa facing the sooty stone fireplace, so Barnes took the only other place to sit, a solitary dining room chair next to the table. He pushed the piles of dirty plates away with a grimace and shot Carlton a disapproving look, but kept his mouth shut. Another confrontation with the crotchety old man would only make their forced stay in his cabin that much more uncomfortable.
Ghost Canyon (The John Decker Supernatural Thriller Series Book 7) Page 18
