by Jeff Strand
"Close enough," she said.
Before dawn, Maddox joined them.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Naomi ran to the back door. She grabbed the doorknob, but she was so scared and her hands were so sweaty that she couldn't get it to turn. The door was covered with large brown spots that hadn't been there before.
She looked over her shoulder. The man had stood back up and was coming after her. Though he wasn't far, he was stumbling around, and still clutched his neck.
He dropped to his knees.
Did he need help?
Naomi got the doorknob to turn. As she threw open the door, she noticed that a couple of the brown spots were getting larger, like soda coming out of a can somebody had dropped on the floor.
She took one last look at the man, who was reaching for her even though he was much too far away to actually grab her, then rushed into the house and pulled the door closed behind her. The brown spots were on the inside of the door, too, along with some greenish ones.
Mommy and Daddy were in the hallway. Now that she was safe, Naomi had no need to try to be brave. She stood there and screamed.
* * *
Adeline crouched down and put her arms around Naomi. "It's okay, honey. It's okay. What happened?"
Naomi continued screaming.
"What's wrong with her?" asked Paige, sounding on the verge of panic. A tiny amount of blood had already soaked through the washcloth she'd pressed against her eye.
Boyd walked over to the door. What the hell was happening to the wood? It looked like it was rotting right in front of his eyes.
Naomi stopped screaming and began sobbing instead. "There's—there's—there's—"
There was a loud thud on the other side of the door and it shook on its hinges. Boyd took a great big step back.
"Naomi?" he asked. "Who's out there?"
The door shook again.
Boyd went over to peek through one of the windows. He pulled back the curtain. The glass was filled with tiny bubbles, so many that he couldn't see through it.
"A man came out of the fish pond!" Naomi wailed.
Another thud, and the door flew open.
A large bald man stepped through the threshold.
Boyd was a skeptic. He'd stopped believing in monsters hiding in the closet or lurking under his bed long before his childhood friends did. He didn't believe in aliens, or ESP, or any of that stuff that didn't have a solid scientific explanation. But when somebody broke into your home and you could see right through him...it was a fucking ghost.
Of course, ghosts weren't supposed to be able to open doors. He'd worry about that later.
Adeline, Paige, and Naomi all screamed. Boyd probably would have joined them if his voice was working.
The transparent man staggered forward. His eyes were wide with confusion and he acted like he couldn't breathe. He kicked the door shut behind him, revealing that the wood was almost completely rotten. He braced himself against the wall with one hand—the other stayed clutched to his throat—and continued slowly moving toward them.
"Get the girls out of the house," Boyd told Adeline, although as soon as he blurted out the words he realized that Adeline had already taken Paige and Naomi's hands and they were running toward the living room.
The transparent man lost his balance and fell to the floor.
Boyd would follow his wife and daughters. In a moment.
"Who the hell are you?" he demanded.
The man looked up at him and let out a soft choking noise.
"Are you a ghost?"
The man didn't answer. Using the wall for leverage, he began to pull himself back up.
The five seconds Boyd had allotted himself to investigate the mysteries of life after death were over. He turned and ran.
* * *
The door in the living room had rotted as well. All of the windows were bubbled. Adeline couldn't believe that they'd thought their problems might have stemmed from an improperly vacuumed air duct.
The doorknob was covered with rust. Adeline grabbed it and cried out in pain; it felt like she'd slammed her hand against a cactus. She looked at her palm. It was covered with black marks.
She fought back tears of pain. She could focus on her hand later. For now, they had to get out of the house.
If Adeline weren't barefoot, she would've tried to kick the door. Instead of running back to the bedroom to get a pair of shoes (she suddenly wished they were a "take off your shoes as you walk into the house" kind of family) it would be much faster to let Boyd kick the door open. He should be here with them anyway.
"Boyd!" she shouted. "We need you!"
Boyd rushed into the living room. Clearly, he'd already been on his way.
"The doorknob bit my hand," said Adeline. She wasn't sure why she used the word "bit." It just came out without her thinking about it. "We need you to kick it open."
"I don't have my shoes on."
Crap, Adeline thought. Boyd didn't usually take off his shoes until he got undressed for bed. Nice day to mess with tradition.
Boyd walked over to the door. "I'll do it anyway."
"No, no—you'll break your foot!"
The man (the ghost?) stepped into the living room. He was no longer using the wall to keep himself upright, and his hand was no longer on his throat, though he still sounded and looked like he was choking.
"Get away from us," Boyd told the man. "Get the hell out of our home."
The man cocked his head a bit, as if trying to understand what Boyd was saying to him.
"We're not going to hurt you," Boyd assured him.
It was difficult to gauge the man's facial expression, since his features weren't clear, but it sure seemed like he was amused by Boyd's statement. When he threw back his head and laughed, even while sounding as if he could barely breathe, there was no question about his reaction.
The living room didn't have much in the way of projectiles, but it did have a glass vase that would have contained flowers at some point in the future. Boyd picked it up and hurled it at the man with amazing accuracy, presuming that he'd been aiming at his chest and not his head.
The vase passed right through him. Not like air. More like jelly, losing its momentum after going through his body and shattering on the hardwood floor. Injuring the see-through man by throwing a vase had been a long shot, but he clearly wasn't immune to all of the laws of physics, so it had been worth a shot.
He looked down at his chest, as if surprised by what had happened.
Then, seemingly emboldened by this new information, he came at them, moving more quickly than before.
"Go! Go! Go!" shouted Boyd, grabbing Paige's hand while Adeline kept hold of Naomi's. The four of them rushed past the man back into the hallway. But before she could get completely out of his reach, the man grabbed Adeline by the wrist.
She expected the needles-through-the-skin sensation again and for a split-second she actually felt it, but no, it didn't feel that much different from a flesh-and-blood person's grip. She tried to tug her hand free. He wouldn't let go.
"Mommy!"
Adeline realized that she was still holding Naomi's hand and preventing her from running away with her father and sister. Adeline released her and then took a swing at the man. The vase hadn't hurt him, but a punch to the jaw might at least surprise him.
It felt like punching a wet towel. Her fist went through his head without shifting his features. The man opened his mouth wide, revealing transparent teeth, his face contorting with rage.
She couldn't tell if it hurt him or not. But when she yanked her hand again, her wrist popped free.
"Don't touch the doorknob!" Adeline screamed as she realized that Boyd was about to do just that. "Go in our bedroom!" Thank God it was a one-story house; they'd just climb out the window.
Boyd looked confused but didn't argue. He, Paige, and Naomi rushed into the bedroom. Adeline followed them. The door to the bedroom had no trace of the rot, so she pulled it shut behind her and
locked it.
"What was that?" asked Paige, her hands trembling so violently that Adeline worried that she might further injure her eye.
"I don't know. But I don't think it can pass through doors, so it won't get us."
"I'll guard the door while you break the window," said Boyd.
Adeline nodded. The bed was pushed up against the window, so it would be difficult to open it (if it could be opened without a crowbar—it might've been painted shut). Adeline had no intention of wasting the time.
She opened the closet door and picked up a pair of red high heels. Then she climbed onto the bed, taking a moment to grab Boyd's cell phone off the bedstand and toss it to him. She tore down the blinds.
The window, like the windows in the living room and kitchen, looked like it was made out of boiling water, though the millions of tiny bubbles weren't moving.
"Stay back, honey," Adeline told Naomi. Naomi nodded and stepped away.
Adeline turned her head away from the window and then slammed one of her high heels against the glass. The window did not crack. It gave just a bit, as if she'd struck paste that had almost dried. The heel sunk about a quarter inch into the glass, leaving a small mark on the window and some sticky residue on the heel when she pulled it free.
"There's no reception," said Boyd. "No wireless and I'm not getting a single bar."
"How is that possible?" Adeline asked. It was a stupid question. If windows could transform their molecular structure and doorknobs could scar your hands, of course whatever was happening could block cell phone reception.
"I don't know!" said Boyd. He pulled Naomi and Paige in for a hug. "It'll be okay, I promise. Nothing's going to hurt you."
Adeline smacked the shoe against the window again, as hard as she could. The heel didn't go any further into the glass; all this accomplished was giving her a sharp pain in her shoulder. She tried to slide the heel down and dig a crevice into the glass, but it didn't work.
"I need something heavier," she told Boyd.
"Trade me spots," Boyd told her.
Adeline got off the bed and stood next to the door.
There was surprisingly little in their bedroom that could be used to break through a window. Boyd glanced around the room, then picked up the wooden bedstand and climbed up onto the mattress. He turned the bedstand upside-down, grabbed it by its legs, swung it back like a batter winding up for a home run, then smashed it into the glass.
The bedstand broke apart without damaging the window.
"Are you kidding me?" Boyd pressed the jagged end of one of the legs against the window, grunting with the strain, but it wouldn't puncture the glass. He tried Adeline's trick of using it as a digging tool. The best he could get was a light scrape across the surface.
The doorknob jiggled.
The ghost apparently couldn't pass through solid objects. That was good. As long as he couldn't pick a lock or break the door down, they'd be safe until help arrived. Not that they could call for help...
There was a thump on the other side of the door. Adeline clamped her uninjured hand over her mouth to block the scream.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
This was terrifying, but pounding on the door wasn't going to knock it off its hinges. They were fine. He couldn't get in.
Adeline could hear the choking noises through the door.
Boyd pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. "Paige, take this," he said. "Keep watching for a signal. Try moving around the room."
Paige nodded and took the phone from him.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
"Maybe we can melt the glass," said Boyd.
"With what?"
"We've got matches in the kitchen, right?"
"We're not in the kitchen!"
"I know we're not in the kitchen! I'm not saying it's our first choice! I'm throwing out ideas!"
"You're right, I'm sorry," said Adeline. They couldn't waste time fighting right now. If they escaped from this room but remained trapped in the house, melting the glass might indeed be their way out. Every idea had merit right now.
Thump.
This one was much louder and lower. The man was no longer pounding on the door; he was kicking it.
Boyd jumped off the bed and ran to the door. He pressed himself tightly against it as the kicks continued. Adeline pressed herself next to him.
"Anything?" Boyd asked Paige.
"No," she said, holding the phone high over her head.
The door shook so violently that Adeline thought it might have bruised her. This was, of course, in addition to the pain from the ice that hadn't yet faded, and the pain in her hand. Right now she was too frightened to really focus on it, but once they were out of this, she'd be in some serious discomfort.
Another kick and the lock broke.
One more kick and both Boyd and Adeline fell to the floor as the door burst open.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Boyd came inches from cracking his head against the bottom of the bedframe as he fell. The bedroom floor was carpeted (an ugly thin gray carpet that they would've replaced if they were buying the home instead of renting it) so the impact didn't hurt as much as it would have if they'd hit the hardwood floor elsewhere in the house. Still, though he was only thirty-two, Boyd was a bit too old to take a fall with grace.
The transparent man stood in the doorway for a moment. Then he lunged.
He went for Boyd. The man hovered over him, then crouched down and put his hands around Boyd's neck.
Boyd tried to tell Adeline to get the girls out of the room, but he couldn't breathe to speak. She either understood what he was trying to say or had the same idea on her own, because the three of them got the hell out of there.
The man's grip tightened. This close to him, Boyd could make out faint details he hadn't seen before—he could see the man's brain inside of his skull, and his internal organs inside his chest. Boyd attempted to grab the man's wrists and pull his hands away, but his hands passed through, ending up on his own neck. Apparently the ghost could touch but not be touched.
The man had a maniacal grin as he tried to strangle Boyd. A rope of drool dangled from the corner of his mouth but disappeared as soon as it fell.
Even for a guy who spent very little time contemplating his own mortality, Boyd never, ever considered that his demise might come at the hands of a homicidal ghost.
If he could talk, he'd try to reason with him. The ghost had to be here for some purpose aside from murdering the residents of the house, right? As it was, Boyd was not only unable to speak at the moment, but he was beginning to lose consciousness.
The man also continued to choke. His eyes were bulging slightly out of their sockets. What a horrific existence.
Boyd desperately used every bit of his strength to try to sit up, but no, the man held him down.
"Get the hell away from him!" Adeline shouted.
She had a large frying pan that she must've grabbed from the kitchen. She brought it down onto the man's head. It passed through, of course, and she stopped before it could smack into Boyd's face. Then she swung it back and forth, passing through the man's head over and over, apparently trying to distract him.
The man's grip didn't loosen.
Adeline switched tactics. She tossed the frying pan aside, grabbed Boyd's pants by the waist, and yanked him.
Boyd slid to the side, but not away from the man's chokehold.
Adeline yanked again.
That worked. It didn't feel like Boyd's neck popped free of the man's hands, but rather that it suddenly passed through them.
Boyd gasped for air. He was dizzy but there was no time for a recovery break. He got to his feet, as did the man, and followed Adeline out of the bedroom. Boyd pulled the door closed and held onto the doorknob with both hands.
"I can keep him in there!" said Boyd, though he may have missed a couple of words.
The doorknob immediately slipped out of his grip.
They ran into the kitchen.
&
nbsp; "I found them!" said Paige, holding up a box of matches. She no longer had the cloth to her face, and her eye was caked with blood.
"See what you can do," Boyd told Adeline, and then he rushed at the man, passing through him. Though the man's body offered no resistance, Boyd immediately felt exhausted, drained. He lost his footing and fell onto the non-carpeted floor.
The man looked at him, then into the kitchen.
"Come and get me, you piece of shit!" Boyd said, scooting backwards and hoping that the man would consider him easier prey than two little girls.
The man took a step toward the kitchen.
"C'mon!" Boyd shouted. "Finish what you started!" He tried to think of a witty, devastating taunt but his mind was blank. He was lucky he could manage to call him a piece of shit.
The man seemed undecided for a moment, then went for Boyd.
This was what Boyd wanted, but his heart still gave a jolt.
* * *
The dishtowel that Adeline wrapped around the doorknob dropped to the floor in black, wet, steaming pieces that smelled the way she imagined a bloated corpse might reek when it split open inside the coffin.
Naomi was looking underneath the kitchen sink for a pair of rubber dish gloves. Adeline had taken out two frying pans before she went back to help Boyd, so she picked up the second one by the handle and went over to the door. Under normal circumstances nobody could bash through a door with a frying pan, but if it was rotted all the way through, this might work.
She took a swing, hitting it right in the center. The wood didn't give.
Half of the pan, suddenly covered with rust, crumbled away and fell to the floor as a powder.
Holy shit.
"I really need you to find those gloves!" she told Naomi. She snatched the box of matches out of Paige's hand. "Help your sister." Rubber gloves might not offer any more protection against the doorknob than the towel had, but if there was some kind of weird chemical reaction involved, they might.
Paige joined Naomi in the search.
Adeline slid open the box of matches and took out one of them as she crossed to the corner of the kitchen where the broom rested against the wall. She struck a match and held the flame to the broom fibers. They didn't catch. She kept the flame to the broom, expecting the ghost to burst into the kitchen at any moment. The broom stubbornly refused to ignite. People died every day from accidental fires, but she couldn't get a goddamn broom to catch fire on purpose.
