Death & Decay (Book 2): Divided

by R. L. Blalock

Finally, Dylan took a breath, forcing himself to speak. “Is Ben alright? Did the police come and save him?”

  His father ran his hands through his hair, his mouth opening and closing a few times.

  Dylan could feel the tears welling up in his eyes once again. Remembering how Ben had been lying on the ground, the crazy lady on top of him. How Ben had cried.

  His father sighed and knelt down, pulling Dylan into a tight hug. “Ben is going to be just fine, bud. The doctors are going to make him all better. Don’t worry.”

  “Why would she do that to Ben?” Dylan wailed, trying to wrap his mind around what had happened.

  “I don’t know.” His father hugged him tighter. “I think that lady was sick. Very sick. She needed help.”

  “Is someone going to help her too?”

  His father’s lips pressed into a tight line, and for a moment his eyes grew distant. “I don’t know.”

  Dylan leaned into his father. His eyes fell upon the gash that the woman had ripped into his arm. It was scabby. Delicate black lines ran across the skin around it.

  “Does it hurt?” Dylan asked, his eyes never leaving the wound.

  His father suddenly stiffened as he looked at the wound. His fingers carefully probed along its edges. “No.” His brow furrowed. “It looks worse than it is.” He forced a smile at Dylan. “I should probably clean it up though. Then we’ll make some dinner.”

  Day 1

  6:02 pm

  Dylan looked up from his tablet. It was taking his dad a long time to get cleaned up. His stomach rumbled impatiently. Dylan set the table down. With a stretch, he stood up and look around. Apollo sat up from his spot on the couch, watching Dylan intently.

  “Dad?” Dylan called out. The house remained quiet. Dylan started to tremble. He didn’t like the silence. Where was his dad? His father wouldn’t have left him here. Not by himself. He didn’t see his father leave.

  Dylan moved down the hallway that led from the living room to the bedrooms.

  “Dad?” Dylan’s voice was quiet as he called out again. He didn’t want to go down the long hallway, which seemed to be too dark. He didn’t want to look for his dad. He wanted his dad to walk out, laugh at him for being silly, and give him a hug.

  His heart began to race as he approached his dad’s room. Quietly, he pushed the door open. His dad was sitting on the edge of the bed, unmoving. The hair on Dylan’s arms rose and he could feel every muscle in his body tense.

  Monster. Monster. Monster.

  The word repeated over and over in his head. It couldn’t be a monster, though. It was his Dad.

  Dylan stood perfectly still in the doorway, afraid that if he moved he would draw the monster’s attention. He wanted to call out, but his voice was caught in his throat as he watched the motionless figure.

  He trembled as he gathered his courage. “Dad?” His voice was barely more than a whisper.

  His dad sprung up and spun around, making Dylan jump back. “Jesus, kid, what are you doing in here?”

  “I-I-I’m hungry. When are you going to make dinner?”

  “Make dinner? How did you get in my house? Where are your parents?” He frowned.

  Dylan stepped back, grabbing ahold of the doorframe and hiding behind it. “But…” He could feel the tears coming again. “I-I-I don’t like this game, Dad. It’s not funny.” He sniffed, struggling to hold back the tears.

  His father’s mouth opened and closed. Suddenly, his eyes locked on the dresser, on a framed picture that stood on top of it. It was a picture of Dylan and his father from a few years ago. Dylan was sitting on his father’s shoulders, smiling with his arms out wide. His father was smiling at the camera, his eyes hidden by sunglasses as he held onto Dylan’s legs.

  His father walked over to the dresser and picked up the picture. His eyes darted from the picture to Dylan and back again. He swallowed a few times as he stared down at the picture for another few moments, running his fingers along the glass. Finally, he placed the picture back on the dresser.

  “Hey, buddy, I’m sorry.” His brows were knit together as he knelt down in front of Dylan. “Where’s your mom? When is she coming home?”

  “Mom doesn’t live here.” Dylan took another step away from his father. He was acting so strange. Perhaps his father was mad at him. Mad that he hadn’t kept a closer eye on Ben. Dylan’s heart twisted as he thought about his friend.

  His father scratched at his head as he thought about what to say next. “Why don’t we try calling her?”

  Dylan nodded. His father stood up and patted down his pants pockets, pulling the phone from his back pocket.

  “Do you know her number?” He held the phone out to Dylan.

  “It’s in your phone.” Dylan didn’t move to take the phone. His father knew his mother’s phone number. This felt like a trap. If he played along, something bad might happen.

  “Right. Right.” His father nodded. He chewed on his lips as he opened up the contacts list. “What’s her name?”

  “Mom.”

  His father sighed. “Can you pick her out on here?” He offered the phone again.

  Cautiously, Dylan took the phone. Even if it was a trap, he wanted his mom. He scrolled through the pictures of people and names. He tapped the picture of his mother and handed the phone back to his father.

  His father tapped a button on the phone and brought it up to his ear. Within a few seconds, his frown deepened and he ended the call.

  “Alright, buddy. It seems like there’s some trouble with my phone. How about I make us some dinner and you keep trying to call your mom? Does that sound like a plan?” His father offered him the phone again.

  After a moment of consideration, Dylan nodded and took the phone from his father.

  “Good! What do you like?” his father said enthusiastically.

  “Mac ‘n’ cheese,” Dylan said quietly as he trailed his father to the kitchen.

  “That sounds like a plan!” He opened a cabinet, frowned, closed the door, and opened another.

  Dylan watched his father rummage through the cabinets, producing a pan and filling it with water. He was wearing a clean shirt now. The bandage poked out from underneath the sleeve. It was clean and white. The black lines emerged from underneath it, snaking down his arm past his elbow.

  Dylan looked back down at the phone. With a sigh, he went back into the living room and plopped down on the couch. He touched the phone icon next to his mother’s picture and lifted the phone to his ear.

  “We’re sorry. All circuits are busy now. Please try your call again later.”

  Dylan stared at the phone as it repeated the same message. Is that what his dad had meant by trouble with his phone? He hit the red “end” button and waited a few seconds before calling again. The same message played again.

  He could feel his panic rising. What if he couldn’t get ahold of his mom? He had always been able to get ahold of her before.

  Just as Dylan was about to hit the “end” button again, the phone rang. His heart raced as he held it to his ear.

  “Hello,” his mother answered.

  “Mommy!”

  “Hi, baby!” His mother’s voice was soothing. Just hearing it made him feel better. “Have you been having fun with Daddy?”

  “No.” Dylan lowered his voice, whispering into the phone, “Daddy is acting strange.”

  “Strange? What’s wrong, baby?” He could hear the concern in his mother’s voice.

  A lump formed in Dylan’s throat as he thought about Ben and the sick lady. “Something bad happened.”

  “Baby, what’s wrong? Are you alright?” The worry was plain in his mother’s voice now.

  “Someone hurt Ben.” He sniffed into the phone.

  “Oh, baby,” his mother crooned. “I’m so sorry. Are you alright?”

  Dylan nodded then remembered his mother wouldn’t be able to see the gesture. “Yes, but she bit Daddy.”

  “Baby, everything is going to be alright.” Even as s
he tried to comfort him, Dylan could hear the strain in his mother’s voice.

  “Mommy, I think Daddy is pretending like he doesn’t know me. I think he’s mad at me.”

  “Like he doesn’t know you? Baby, I’m sure he’s not mad at you. He’s probably just worried.” He could hear shuffling in the background.

  “Mommy, I’m scared. Can you come over?” Dylan swallowed around the lump in his throat, his chin quivering as he fought against the tears.

  “Of course, baby. I’m on my way.” He could hear the car door slam in the background. “Can you put your dad on the phone?”

  “Sure. I love you, Mommy.”

  “I love you too, sweetheart.”

  “Dad.” Dylan entered the kitchen and held out the phone as his father stirred pasta on the stove. “Mom wants to talk to you.”

  “Hello?” His father took the phone.

  Dylan wandered back into the living room. He could hear his father’s hushed whisper. It quickly turned frantic. The fear in his father’s voice scared Dylan. Maybe his father was just playing pretend because he was afraid. Maybe he wasn’t mad at all. That made sense. Whenever Dylan heard a strange noise at night, he’d pretend he hadn’t heard it.

  Dylan plopped back down on the couch. Apollo stood there, shaking himself off, and moved to Dylan’s side, resting his head on the sofa next to Dylan. Dylan wrapped his arms around Apollo’s large head and nuzzled his musty fur. The dog gently licked his arm, as if trying to tell him not to worry.

  Day 1

  10:32 pm

  Dylan’s eyes fluttered open. It was dark in his room. The only light came from a small nightlight plugged into the wall. The light it cast created long, distorted shadows out of his toys.

  He reached down towards the end of the bed. It was empty. Dylan began to frantically feel across the sheets for the warm soft body that usually lay there.

  A growl rumbled through the quiet room. In the dark, Dylan could see the dog’s silhouette near the door.

  “Apollo,” he called quietly.

  The dog didn’t come. He stood rigid, facing the door, the fur on his back standing on end.

  “Apollo,” Dylan called a little louder. The dog finally looked back at Dylan. His ears lay flat against his head, his hackles stood on end, his tail was raised and rigid. As Apollo turned back towards the door his lips peeled back revealing his long, sharp teeth.

  Dylan slid out of bed, tiptoeing to the door. Apollo was rooted firmly in place, not moving as Dylan reached for the doorknob. After a moment of struggling, Dylan pulled the door open. Apollo bolted into the darkness.

  “Wait!” Dylan cried out, suddenly alone. The entire house was dark. Slits of pale light filtered in through gaps in the blinds, leaving most of the house in deep shadow. Dylan’s heart raced as he stared out into the dark house beyond his room.

  A thump echoed down the hall and Dylan whirled around. Apollo stood in front of the door to his father’s bedroom. He snarled at the door.

  Dylan approached the door. He could hear footsteps shuffling through the room on the other side. They were uneven and heavy. He reached for the knob, his heart thundering in his chest. His palms were slick as he twisted the doorknob and pushed the door open a crack.

  His father stood in the corner of the dark room. He wasn’t doing anything. Just standing there.

  Monster. Monster. Monster.

  The voice screamed in his head. A whimper escaped Dylan’s lips.

  His father whipped around, his lip curling back in a snarl that mirrored Apollo’s expression. As Dylan shrank away from the man’s gaze, his father let out an ear-piercing shriek.

  With a roar, Apollo lunged. As his father darted forward, Apollo sank his teeth into his left leg. His father pitched forward, falling hard.

  Dylan turned and ran, his heart thundering in his ears. He sprinted down the hall and towards the front door. His fingers felt thick and clumsy as he fumbled with the deadbolt. As it clanked open, Dylan threw the door open and stopped.

  It was dark outside. The other houses were shrouded in shadows. The air was hot and heavy. Outside looked just as threatening as inside. Dylan could imagine all the monsters that were lurking in the shadows, just waiting for him to set foot outside the door.

  A yip sounded behind him, and Dylan spun back towards the house’s interior. He didn’t want to leave Apollo. He didn’t want to leave his dad. He didn’t know what to do. He wasn’t supposed to leave the house without his dad, but his dad was scary. His dad was a monster.

  Claws skittered across the floor and a second later Apollo slid around the corner. The dog darted out the door. He paused on the porch, looking back to Dylan and whining, his muzzle wet and glistening in the moonlight. Dylan bolted after the dog, not wanting to be left with his dad in the dark house.

  Dylan’s head whipped back and forth as he tried to decide where to go. The neighborhood was shrouded in darkness with only sparse patches of light cast down by the streetlamps. His heart hammered in his chest. A tremble started in his fingers and began to work its way up his arm and throughout his body.

  Heavy, clumsy footsteps echoed through the house behind him. Dylan jerked into motion, his breath coming out in quick, wheezing puffs as he dashed across the lawn towards Ben’s house. Apollo was glued to his side, his ears up and alert. The dog’s presence was comforting but did little to alleviate Dylan’s fears. He was out in the dark of the night on his own. Something terrible had happened to his father, and he didn’t know where his mother was. Dylan leapt up the short three steps, nearly tripping on the landing.

  “Help! Mrs. Ward! Please, help me!” A heavy thump resounded on the other side of the door. Dylan took a few steps back as the thumps turned into a steady beat that shook the door.

  Suddenly, the ground fell out from underneath him. His arms pinwheeled as he tried to catch himself. All too quickly the ground came up, sending a bolt of pain through his back and elbow. Tears started streaming down his cheeks anew as he clutched his scraped elbow.

  Dylan looked around at the dark street through the haze of tears. He didn’t know where to go. He didn’t know what to do. He wanted his dad to be his dad again. His wanted his mom. He wanted them to hug him and tell him this was all just a bad dream. But he couldn’t wake up.

  Apollo’s deep rumbling growl broke him from his self-pity with a start.

  A man was running down the street towards him. The man was wearing nothing but a pair of boxers. As he darted underneath a streetlamp, Dylan could see the horrible snarl that contorted his face. Gore dripped from his lips and coated his chest.

  Apollo’s furious barking cut through the night, and Dylan bolted down the street. The dark houses were a blur as he ran. He didn’t know where he was going. He didn’t know what he was going to do. He just knew he couldn’t let that man catch him.

  A terrifying shriek echoed from behind Dylan, sending a chill up his spine. Throughout the neighborhood, more screams responded. Dylan pumped his legs harder, but he could hear the slap of the man’s bare feet behind him, drawing nearer.

  A house reared up out of the darkness. Dylan looked around for another road. None of the houses looked familiar anymore. He couldn’t remember what streets he had run down. He couldn’t remember what turns he had taken. He didn’t know where he was or how to get back home.

  He had run right into a cul-de-sac.

  There was nowhere left to go.

  Dylan’s bare feet skidded painfully across the pavement as he came to a stop. His chest heaved as he desperately tried to take in the oxygen his body needed. His heart roared in his ears.

  Soft fur tickled his leg. Apollo inched closer. The fur along his back stood on end. His lip curled back from his teeth. His ears flattened to his skull as he ducked his head low.

  Three.

  Three people were running up the street towards them. Dylan inched back with a whimper. They were going to rip him apart. Just like Ben.

  It was going to hurt.

&
nbsp; Dylan wrapped his arm around his body, hugging himself tightly.

  A loud scream erupted to his left, and suddenly he was knocked to the ground. Dylan couldn’t even scream as the air was forced out of his lungs. Fingers dug painfully into his shoulders as crushing weight bore down on him.

  Dylan looked up into the face of the monster. Snapping teeth filled his vision, and Dylan finally found his voice. He screamed, tears streaming down his face as he tried to push the woman back. But she was so heavy and so strong.

  Suddenly, the teeth were gone. Apollo lunged forward, seizing the monster’s throat in his massive jaws. Her snarls turned into wet gurgles. He shook his head furiously, ripping her throat to shreds. Warm, sticky blood poured down onto Dylan’s chest, soaking into his shirt. The monster’s fingers loosened and Dylan quickly scrambled out from underneath her.

  She was still fighting. Still moving. She didn’t even notice her injuries. The woman reached for Apollo, her fingers curling into claws as she reached for him. But Apollo gracefully leapt out of her reach. Darting in again, he took hold of her arm and shook it violently, tearing skin and muscle. His muzzle and chest glistened with blood as he jumped back.

  But the fight wasn’t fair.

  As the other people reached the fight, one reached out and grabbed Apollo’s back leg, pulling it out from underneath him. As the dog fell, he whipped around, his teeth clamping down on the man who had ahold of him.

  In that moment, the woman lunged forward, sinking her own teeth into his back. Apollo let out a high-pitched yip, snapping at the woman, but unable to fend her off. The man bit down into the dog’s leg. As the next monster dove in, Dylan momentarily lost sight of the dog. The first friend he had ever had. The best friend he had ever had.

  Apollo wasn’t fighting anymore. Instead, he thrashed wildly, whining and whimpering as he tried to free himself. But he couldn’t get free. The more he struggled, the more they tore into him. Blood pooled underneath him on the pavement, glinting in the moonlight as Apollo finally fell still.

  Dylan slowly scooted backwards. Inch by inch. Putting distance between himself and the monsters, between himself and his best friend, as silently as he could.