At The Edge of Night - 28 book horror box set - also contains a link to an additional FREE book

by Bray, Michael

  Look at Herb. That’s what happens if you upset him!

  Christine’s words echoed in Norton’s mind, yet somehow he managed to find a smile as Clayton approached.

  “Here we are,” Clayton said as he pushed the skeletal man to a halt in front of the pair.

  “Mr. Norton, this 'ere is Herb.”

  Norton held out his hand. “Pleased to meet you.”

  Herb didn’t move, he stared at Norton, his yellowed eyes betraying no hint of emotion.

  “Now come on Herb,” Clayton said, laying a podgy hand on Herb’s shoulder. “That’s no way to treat our guest.”

  Norton was sure he wouldn’t have noticed it, had Christine not told him about her father, but sure enough, he was certain Clayton had squeezed Herbs shoulder just a little too hard, his fingers digging a little too deep into his collar bone. Herb even registered a half grimace, and then like a well-trained animal, he held out a shaking hand.

  “Welcome to Candyland Mr. Norton.”

  Norton shook the old man’s hand, which was dry and leathery. He just wanted to be on his way, to leave the residents of Candyland to whatever it is they did out here in the middle of nowhere.

  “I uh, I was hoping to get some gas for my car.”

  Norton was running on autopilot, his voice seeming to come from someone else.

  “Pumps are down, but I got ya a couple of jerry cans to get ya on your way,” Herb said, jabbing a grubby thumb over his shoulder.

  Norton could have reached out and kissed the wrinkled old man when he saw the cans hanging over the handles of the wheelchair but kept calm even despite the way his heart pounded in his chest.

  “Thank you. How much do I owe you?”

  “Oh no charge Mr. Norton. Think of it as a courtesy gift from the people of Candyland.” Clayton said, unleashing that grin which now, to Norton, had a more sinister undertone as his impression of the man changed.

  “That’s very generous. I don’t mind paying my way, really.” He was going through the motions, saying what he knew he should say.

  Does he know? Does he suspect you are on to him?

  Norton asked himself the same thing and took a moment to really look at Clayton. If he knew, he was hiding it well.

  Screw it. Just get the gas and get the hell out of here.

  For once, he didn’t try to ignore his inner voice. In fact, he thought it was a damn good idea.

  “Are ya okay Mr. Norton?” Clayton asked, watching him with sharp eyes.

  “Fine, I’m just… Not used to such generosity, that’s all.”

  The lie wasn’t great, but he thought it would suffice.

  “Well,” Clayton said, clapping his hands together. “Let’s walk ya to ya car an' get ya back on the road.”

  It was the best idea Norton had heard for a long time, and he had to force himself not to rush. The trio left Christine behind, Clayton pushing Herb and the precious gas as Norton walked alongside.

  “So, what ya think of Candyland?” Clayton asked.

  “It’s different to what I’m used to.”

  “You from the city?”

  “Yeah. L.A.”

  “We manage to avoid all the troubles of the wider world here in Candyland. Nobody notices us out 'ere on our slice of the world.”

  “You must have some kind of trade, though, right?”

  Clayton glared, and again, Norton saw that little flicker of pure rage bubbling beneath the surface.

  “Actually, ma family have worked 'ard to make sure Candyland remains self-sufficient. We look after our own, and are quite happy for the world to go on without knowing we exist.”

  Nobody knows I’m here.

  It was the first time such a thought had entered Norton’s head, and the reason for it was simple.

  Clayton Candy scared him.

  As a physical presence, he wasn’t in the least bit intimidated, but there was something about him that was making the hairs on the back of Norton’s neck stand up as they picked their way through the crowd. He no longer wanted to speak to Clayton, and with Christine’s words still fresh, he turned to Herb.

  “Mind if I ask what happened?”

  Herb opened his mouth, but before he could speak, Clayton interjected.

  “Ol' Herb 'ere had a nasty fall around twenty years back. Broke his spine in three places.”

  Norton looked at Clayton, searching his face for any hint of a lie.

  “Can't Herb speak for himself?”

  “Oh he can, but he doesn’t like to say much these days. Do ya Herb?”

  “No, Mr. Candy sir,” Herb said, looking at Norton with such desperation, that he decided not to push the subject.

  The trio walked back past the barbecue, which despite everything still smelled as good as ever. Norton could see the blue paintwork of the caddy, glittering in the sunlight, and his mood lifted at the thought of leaving such a backwards little town behind.

  “Oh, my…”

  Norton’s Cadillac was where he had left it, except now it was without wheels. They had all been removed, and the car was propped up on bricks.

  “God damn it! God damn kids!” Clayton raged, looking into the throng of people at the fete.

  “Messin’ with our guests like this, wait till I get my hands on the little bastards…”

  For all of Clayton’s flapping and making a show of his dissatisfaction, Norton was more interested in Herb’s reaction.

  Unlike Clayton, he didn’t seem in the least bit surprised.

  For the next few hours, Clayton made a song and dance about trying to find out who had removed Norton’s wheels. He stalked around the fete, asking questions, and demanding answers. Norton was certain that the entire performance was for his benefit. He leaned against his car, watching Clayton stalk around the fete, and keeping a watchful eye on the sun as it started to get lower in the sky.

  “Mr. Norton?”

  He looked at Herb.

  “Yeah?”

  At first, he didn’t respond. He sat in his wheelchair, chewing at his filthy, overgrown thumbnail. Just when Norton thought that he had only imagined Herb speak, the old man looked at him, his eyes wide and frightened.

  “This is how it always goes.”

  “How what goes?”

  “'Ere in Candyland. It always works like this.”

  “What is it Herb? Tell me what to do and I can help you.”

  The old man smiled without humour and shook his head.

  “Ain’t nobody 'ere who can help you, me or anyone else.”

  “As soon as I get back on the road, I’ll come back. I’ll bring help.”

  “You don’t get it do ya son?” Herb said as he held Norton’s gaze. “You ain’t never getting outta Candyland now.”

  Clayton walked back towards Norton, shaking his head.

  “I apologise for this, I promise ya I'll find the culprits and they will suffer the consequences.”

  “It’s okay. Does Candyland have a garage? Someone who can fit me some new wheels?”

  Clayton squirmed, and Herbs words returned to the forefront of Norton’s mind. “Actually, we don’t, nearest garage is in Shadowlands, and that’s a good thirty miles back in the direction ya came from.”

  Norton checked his mobile, hoping against hope that there would be a signal, but he hadn’t had one for the last hundred miles, and sure enough, out here in the middle of nowhere, he had no service.

  “Damn it.” He said as he shoved the phone back into his jeans pocket.

  “Tell ya what,” Clayton said. “Since it’s getting late in the day, how about you stay the night 'ere in Candyland? Then first thing in the morning I’ll get someone out 'ere to repair this beautiful caddy of yours, and ya can be on ya way.”

  You ain't never getting out of Candyland now.

  “I appreciate the offer, I really do, but I have to be on my way. Perhaps there’s a phone I can use?”

  “As ya saw from your own mobile, we don’t get much of a reception 'ere in Candyland.
We only 'ave one phone, but unfortunately, my cousin Jacob has taken it with him outta town with him. He won’t be back 'til late I’m afraid.”

  “I can wait, I don’t mind hanging around until he gets back with the phone.”

  “Look, there ain’t no phone and there ain't no garage.” Clayton spat, his face twisting into a furious sneer.

  Norton couldn’t hide his shock this time, and thought that this was perhaps his first look at the real Clayton Candy. Candy, for his part, recovered quickly, and reverted to a wide, fixed grin, as he wiped at his sweaty face.

  “What I mean to say is, we are just a small town, and we can't do much until morning. As soon as Jacob comes back, we can get ya on ya way.”

  Norton was growing angry, and the oppressive heat seemed to be fuelling his frustration.

  “Are you sure you aren’t trying to keep me here Mr. Candy?”

  Clayton’s cheek twitched and he slid his eyes towards Herb, then back to Norton.

  “Course not. Ya free to do whatever ya want to Mr. Norton. As I said, if ya want to walk, Shadowlands is thirty miles back the way ya came. Next town in the opposite direction is Freeborough, but that’s a good eighty miles. If ya do decide to walk, then I have to advise ya to be careful after dark. Some of the local critters 'ere wouldn’t think twice about setting upon a person if he was out there at night.”

  “Then it looks like I’m staying the night. Is there a motel here in Candyland?”

  Clayton’s mood changed, and he reverted to grinning widely. “Excellent! I’m afraid we 'ave no motel 'ere, but you can spend the night at ma home. I’ll 'ave ma daughter make up the guest bedroom for ya.”

  “Thank you,” Norton said, his uneasy feeling growing by the second.

  He glanced at Herb, who was staring at him, his eyes pleading a mixture of fear and horror. Clayton saw it too.

  “Well, Mr Norton, why don’t cha go ahead and enjoy the fete as best ya can. When it’s all finished, we'll show ya to our 'ome. In the meantime, as soon as Jacob gets back, I’ll have Herb 'ere get in touch with a mechanic from Shadowlands and get him out here first thing to fix up ya car. Ya should be outta here after breakfast.”

  Clayton moved to Herb’s wheelchair and readied to push him away.

  “Come on Herb, I’ll take ya back to ya stall. Mr. Norton, please enjoy the rest of the day.”

  Clayton left, taking Herb with him. Norton still couldn’t shake the jittery feeling in his stomach, the feeling that told him that something was wrong with the entire situation. Like it or not, he was stranded there and decided that although Clayton Candy was something of an oddball, he would still try as best he could to fit in, at least until he could put Candyland behind him.

  For the rest of the afternoon, Norton grew more and more uneasy with Candyland. Outwardly, he made a show of enjoying himself, but inwardly he was ever desperate to leave. He started to notice little things, things that he wouldn’t have without the warning words of both Herb and Christine, who were both nowhere to be found, despite him trying to seek them out to get more answers. He had touched on it earlier, but now as he looked closer, he noticed that pretty much everyone in Candyland looked freakishly similar. Not all of them of course, but most of those he had seen certainly resembled Clayton Candy to a disturbing degree.

  Maybe that’s why they keep staring. Because I look different.

  Norton was starting to wonder just how much power Clayton had over the tiny town. Everyone he looked at had the same haunted eyes, the same sense of spirits being broken. Although the fete was in full swing, Norton got the distinct impression that the townsfolk involved were just going through the motions. He half considered running for it, just getting out of town and taking his chances on the road, but he wasn’t ready for that yet. There was every chance that the knot in his stomach could just be his own overactive imagination making more out of the situation than necessary.

  One thing was for sure. He wasn’t looking forward to staying at Clayton Candy’s house. In fact, the idea filled him with dread. Either way, there was nothing he could do, and as the day drew to a close and the townsfolk started to head home, Clayton returned, along with his giant of a daughter and together the three of them made their way towards Candy’s house.

  Norton took a longing glance at his disabled car, wishing for the umpteenth time that he had never made the decision to stop at Candyland.

  ***

  Clayton’s house was on the far edge of town. It looked old and tired, its paintwork cracked, faded and in need of repair. The grass out front was sick and yellow. As far as Candyland homes went, it actually looked luxurious, but Norton saw it for what it was, a rundown ugly looking house.

  “Come on in Mr. Norton,” Clayton said as he walked up the creaking porch steps. Norton followed and waited as Clayton opened the door.

  “Come on in,” Clayton said over his shoulder.

  Even though every instinct screamed at him not to, Norton followed, waiting just over the threshold as his eyes adjusted to the gloom.

  The inside of the house was quite unremarkable. Old fashioned for sure, but still clean and tidy, which was a pleasant surprise to Norton, who had expected worse. The house was set up for simple living. There was no television. In fact, He hadn’t seen a single modern convenience at all during the tour of the house. The layout was simple, a modest kitchen and sitting room downstairs. Bathroom and three bedrooms upstairs. As he was shown around, Norton tried to gauge some kind of picture of who Clayton Candy was, but the house gave away no secrets. Everything was tidy, and even though the house had a dry, musty smell and showed some signs of age, the yellowed wallpaper and frayed carpets gave no indication of anything sinister.

  Norton’s guest room looked out over a vast expanse of open desert, and in the very distance he could see the faint pencil line of the road, which was tantalisingly close. Clayton had told Norton to get some rest, and that supper would be ready at eight.

  Alone for the first time, Norton had laid down on his bed, which creaked under protest, and closed his eyes, hoping to get a few hours’ sleep.

  He woke to the sound of hushed voices outside his room. The sun had sunk low in the sky, and it had elongated the shadows in Norton’s room. As quietly as he could, he got up and crept to the door, placing an ear to the wood to try and better hear the heated conversation.

  He could tell it was Clayton and his daughter, but what they were saying was inaudible. They were speaking in a near whisper themselves, and apart from the odd snatch of a word, he couldn’t make it out. All he knew was that they were in a disagreement over something. Clayton's tone was sharp and demanding, Christine’s was pleading and afraid. He half considered opening the door and making himself known, but wasn’t afraid to admit that he was more than happy to go along with things as anonymously as possible as long as it meant he could save his own skin and get out of Candyland in one piece.

  He was about to go back to his bed, content to let the Candy family argue it out amongst themselves when he heard something which changed the entire complexion of his stay. It was Clayton, and the three words he said to his daughter were clear and sharp, and no doubt a little louder than planned. Norton heard well enough, though, and that feeling of unease which had been niggling at him, became a full blown fear.

  The three words hissed by Clayton to his daughter were a simple enough instruction, but one which raised even more questions about Clayton Candy and the town which bore his name, and it was then that Norton knew that if he wanted to leave Candyland again, then he would have to escape to do it.

  ***

  Numb and unsure what to do, Norton went to dinner at eight as instructed. Clayton sat at the head of the table, his chair oversized and higher than the others, probably to make up for his physical shortcomings. Norton didn’t think he would be able to eat, but the meal served up by Christine was spectacular to say the least. A delicious roast with all the trimmings. There was enough to feed a family of eight, and he piled his pla
te high, topping it off with delicious, thick gravy. The three of them ate in silence for a while, Norton very aware that Clayton was watching him with some amusement from the opposite end of the table.

  “So, Mr. Norton, whatcha think of Candyland?”

  Norton took a moment to swallow his food and take a sip of water, ensuring he said the words in the right way.

  “It’s a nice place. Quieter than I’m used to, but the hospitality shown to me is second to none. Thank you again.”

  “Ah, no need for thanks, that’s what the people of Candyland do. We are a very close community, just one big family working together.”

  “Do you get many visitors from outside of town?”

  “Not too often. As I said earlier, we keep to ourselves pretty much. We don’t bother the outside world and they don’t bother us. We like it that way don’t we precious?” He said, looking at Christine and smiling.

  She didn’t answer, and looked down at her plate, which was piled high with enough food for two people.

  “You'll have to forgive ma daughter Mr. Norton, it seems she's taken something of a shine to ya.”

  He didn’t know what to say to that, or to the hopeful glance thrown at him by both father and daughter Candy. As before he took a mouthful of potato, chewing slowly and sipped his drink, giving himself time to compose his thoughts.

  “I’m flattered, really. But I’m not looking to get into any kind of a relationship right now.”

  He saw the hurt in Christine’s eyes and felt bad. Clayton’s expression remained neutral as he watched Norton eat.

  “How old are ya Mr. Norton, if ya don’t mind me asking?” Clayton said, his piercing gaze doing a fine job of raising goosebumps on Norton’s skin.

  “I’m thirty-six. Thirty-seven next month.”

  “I see. I see no ring so I presume ya still unmarried following ya divorce. Do ya have anyone in ya life right now?”

  Norton hesitated, not liking where the line of questioning was going.

  “No, as I said, I’m happy enough to be single for the time being.”