Uninvited

by David Anderson

  With the kitchen door locked behind him, Peterman wheeled the cart to the shed. He searched all his pockets. Where was the damned shed key? Most of the year he left all these doors unlocked and it was perfectly fine. Now with Wheeler here the place had turned into Alcatraz.

  If he couldn’t find the key he’d have to go back into the house and ask Marie for hers, and then she would get on his case for old age and forgetfulness.

  He paused and looked around, took a deep breath and inhaled the faintly scented morning air. An enormous yellow-striped bee buzzed past his face. The air warmed his bare arms, and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. With any luck the Sanders business would sort itself out – who knew what the young stallion was shooting into his body – and things would get back to normal once the lot of them buggered off.

  He found the key at last, unlocked the shed, and propped the door open with an old brick. The food storage was over by the side and he filled his cart with what he required for the next few days. His stocks were getting a bit low, but the big Sikorsky helicopter would be coming soon with fresh supplies, and the only problem then would be where to put them all.

  Last on his mental list were potatoes from an enormous barrel in the corner. He trundled the cart over, unscrewed the lid, and placed a plastic bucket inside. The earthy smell of the unwashed potatoes filled his nostrils as he leaned into the barrel and loaded up the bucket.

  He straightened up and was about to hook the handle of the pail onto the cart when a shadow moved across the sunlit doorway in his peripheral vision. The boss calling him away on another mad manhunt? This time Peterman would refuse to have anything to do with it. He paused, pail in hand, and turned to see who it was.

  As he did so, a tall figure lunged at him.

  The bucket fell with a clatter, potatoes rolling across the rough concrete floor.

  * * *

  I woke feeling stiff but refreshed. Bright sunlight streamed through my window and the alarm clock by the side of the bed said eleven-thirty. I threw back the sheets and discovered a bandage around my right foot, and there were Band Aids on the various scratches and bites I’d picked up during the night. A quick sniff told me that I even smelled pretty good, so someone must have cleaned me up before they put me to bed. I stretched and felt blood flowing through my aching limbs.

  The room was stuffy, so I opened the window and enjoyed cooler air on my bare skin. The awful tension and stress of last night was gone. I tried not to think about my narrow escape but focused on what I was seeing here and now. On the forested hillside behind the house an animal I couldn’t identify, probably a wolf or coyote, howled in pain.

  This wilderness was far from silent or tame, but it had a kind of spiritual rhythm to it that I’d never experienced in the city. Maybe my iPod and laptop weren’t so important after all. I closed the window, feeling calmer now, breathing deeper.

  I showered, discarded the bandage and most of the Band Aids, and found freshly laundered clothes neatly folded on the chair. My shoes were nearby on the rug, the right one stained dark with blood. When I put my hand inside, it felt dry and the hole in the sole was tiny, so I put the shoes on.

  Now I wanted coffee and something to eat. On my way to the kitchen I passed the living room and held my ear to the door. There were voices inside but I didn’t want to meet anyone just yet. I’d have to talk to Wheeler and the others later, however brunch came first.

  Nora was sitting at the kitchen table doing Sudoku. When she saw me, she jumped and gave me a hug.

  “I’m better, just starving, that’s all,” I said.

  She poured me a mug of coffee and the first mouthful was sheer heaven. Then she brought me buttered croissants, Canadian ham, scrambled eggs and hash browns. A minute in the microwave and it was all just perfect. I munched happily and mentally conceded that sometimes having a twin sister wasn’t too bad after all. She even let me eat in peace, though she didn’t go back to the Sudoku.

  By the time Nora passed me the cheese platter I was ready to think about last night again. I told her what happened.

  “Somehow I made it to the door and that’s when you let me in,” I concluded.

  “Just in time too,” Nora replied, “Wheeler wouldn’t let me open until he’d checked through the windows that it was safe. It took him forever.”

  “Anyway, I survived.”

  “I’m proud of you, brother,” Nora said, and I felt myself blush. “Seriously,” she added, “It shows that you’re a survivor. We might need that if things get any worse around here.”

  “Thanks, sis.” It was a good way to look at it.

  As I drained my mug Wheeler came in and sat beside us.

  “Remember much about last night?” he asked.

  I groaned inside, not wanting to have to go over it all again. Screwing up my face, I pretended to be hazy about it all.

  “I vaguely remember running around in the dark with Sanders after me, then later on flopping into bed, the rest is gone,” I said, “I’m just glad it’s over, and that I survived.”

  “Nervous exhaustion,” Nora chipped in, “Sometimes causes memory loss.”

  Wheeler looked unconvinced. “These night-time adventures of yours are getting to be a habit, aren’t they?” he snapped. “Anyway, come to the living room. Toby and Ned want to hear the details, and so do I.”

  Nora shrugged at me as we followed Wheeler and mouthed a silent “Better tell him” behind his back. In the living room, Toby and Ned were waiting. We sat down and there was a long silence that I knew I was expected to fill. Ned looked miserable and I imagined he longed to hear something good about Abby. I sighed and decided to get it over with.

  “Guess I’d better tell you what happened last night.”

  Frowns turned into half-smiles. I started off calmly enough, glossing over Abby’s appearance at the window and especially the details about Georgia. When I reached the wrestling with Sanders it finally hit home to me that this had been a life or death struggle. My palms began to sweat, and I felt a bit shaky. A vivid image of Sanders’ smashed face flooded into my mind and I literally shook my head from side to side to get rid of it. Even after I’d hit him, his eyes had remained fixed on me unrelentingly.

  Toby got up and brought me a tall glass of water. I gulped half of it down. Everyone was still looking at me, wanting more. Somehow, I managed to stumble on to the end.

  “Then, like I said, I remember falling into bed, and that’s it.”

  “Thanks, Nick.” Toby smiled encouragingly. “That must have been difficult to relive.”

  “You were a bloody mess when I let you in,” Wheeler said. “I looked outside, and Sanders was running away, the coward, so I slammed the door shut.”

  “Peterman very kindly cleaned you up and put you to bed,” Toby added.

  “Even though I wanted to talk to you first,” Wheeler complained, giving Toby a sour look.

  “I’m surprised I managed to sleep at all, but as soon as my head touched the pillow I was out of it.”

  Wheeler smirked. “That was no accident,” he said, “I got Peterman to put a sedative in the water you drank.”

  I looked at the glass in my hand and hoped it hadn’t been drugged too.

  “Since then, those bastards haven’t approached the house again as far as I know,” Wheeler went on.

  Ned Mackie looked up and there was fire in his eyes. “That’s my wife you’re talking about.”

  Wheeler ignored the interruption. “This whole thing is getting damned weird.” He looked at me. “I don’t get how they could make you do what they wanted?”

  I shrugged. “Beats me too. All I know is I could hear them even though their mouths weren’t moving. They told me what to do and I just did it like I hadn’t any other choice. I know that sounds crazy.”

  “Like hypnotism?” Toby asked.

  I nodded. “More like telepathy actually, and mind control I suppose.”

  “You’d been drinking before it happened,” Wheeler said
as if he knew that for a fact.

  A spark flared up in me and I felt my cheeks redden. “No, I hadn’t. I told you what happened. Take it or leave it.”

  Our eyes locked and I stared him down. Nora squeezed my arm reassuringly.

  “Somehow they entered his mind and took him over,” she said, “Forced him against his will. Can’t you see that?”

  “When they took you outside what were they going to do?” Ned asked cautiously, as if fearing the wrong answer, “Match you up with Georgia, I suppose?”

  He was imagining Sanders pairing off with Abby again.

  “No, it wasn’t like that. Georgia was coming on to me. It was just a ploy. She wanted me to join them, become one of them.”

  Wheeler snorted. “Sounds like something from a bad zombie movie. I think you overdid it with the whiskey.”

  Now I was really getting mad, boss or no boss. Before I knew it, I was jabbing a finger at Wheeler. “Look, this is no joke. I was stone cold sober and if I hadn’t got away, I’d be out there with them now. I’ll never go anywhere near them again.” I gave Ned a pitying look. “And I advise no-one else to either.”

  “I don’t blame you,” Toby said, “After what you’ve been through. Even if we can hear them in our heads, you have to admit the mind control thing is a bit hard to swallow.”

  I shrugged again, not wanting to argue with him.

  “We need to agree on what to do now,” Nora chipped in. She was right, we were arguing too much and not doing enough planning.

  Wheeler frowned. “I’ll tell you what. From here on I’m carrying a firearm when I go outside, and I’m prepared to use it.”

  “Are you serious?” Ned shouted in reply, “Harm Abby and I’ll kill you myself.”

  “Ned’s right,” Toby said, “A triple murder charge won’t go down well when we get back to civilisation.”

  “I get that,” Wheeler replied, “But as Nick says, this trio doesn’t take no for an answer. If I come across them, this time I’m going to be ready.”

  It nearly killed me to say so, but for once Wheeler was right. “I think they’re going to be back,” I said, “And they won’t stop until we’re all like them.”

  Toby gave me a sad look. “I know you’ve been through a lot, Nick, but if they walked into this room right now, and you had a gun, would you really shoot them? I can’t believe it.”

  “They won’t walk in here,” Wheeler interrupted, “I’ve told Peterman and Marie to keep the doors and all the downstairs windows locked.”

  “Maybe they’ve caught something contagious, like a virus,” Ned said, “So we just need to quarantine them.”

  “More like quarantine ourselves,” Wheeler shot back gruffly, “Like Nick said, I’m not letting them anywhere near me.”

  “I’d go as far as physically restraining them,” Toby said, “To protect ourselves, but no further.”

  “Alright,” Wheeler conceded, “I’m not saying shoot on sight. But to keep myself from getting infected with whatever he has, I’d sure as hell plug Sanders in the leg.”

  No kidding, I thought to myself.

  “I’d do that to Sanders in a flash,” Ned agreed ominously. It was plain that he still thought Sanders had seduced his wife.

  I tried to imagine what it would feel like to shoot a live round into another human being and couldn’t imagine myself ever doing it. But up until last night, I’d never dreamed of smashing a rock as hard as I could into someone’s face either. If I’d had one of Wheeler’s rifles when Sanders came after me last night, I wouldn’t have hesitated to use it.

  And I wouldn’t have been aiming at his legs.

  * * *

  Marie wouldn’t let Nora and me anywhere near the kitchen, and as I’d eaten only a short time earlier, I was pretty much a spectator at lunch. I watched as Toby’s fork moved hypnotically from food to mouth and back again as he finished his second large helping of apple pie with whipped cream. The fork clattered on the empty plate and Toby pushed it away with a satisfied sigh, rubbing his belly with his other hand.

  Throughout the meal, Peterman was nowhere around, and Marie looked increasingly tense and upset. She kept flitting in and out the door, disappearing for several minutes at a time until Wheeler said something sharp to her about having to fetch his own coffee. Nora and I looked at each other then got up to help. It seemed to trigger something in Marie and she flopped down at the table and began bawling her eyes out. When the big wails and moans stopped, she stood up again and gabbled a torrent of words into Wheeler’s ear. He scowled and slammed his mug down on the kitchen counter.

  “Peterman is missing,” he announced.

  There was a grim silence. We all knew what that meant.

  “You’re absolutely sure?” Toby finally asked.

  Wheeler gave him a contemptuous look. “Marie has looked everywhere. Unless Peterman’s hiding in a broom closet then, yes, we’re sure. He’s supposed to be helping Marie with the lunch and he’s not the sort to skive off.”

  “Sit down, Marie,” Nora said gently, “We’ll do the rest. When did you last see Mr. Peterman?”

  Marie collapsed into a chair and began kneading her hands in her lap. She licked her lips nervously and drank from a half empty water glass that happened to be in front of her.

  “I was busy with the laundry,” she explained, “And it was late morning before I noticed the beds hadn’t been made. Then when my husband didn’t come to help me with the food preparation I thought Mr. Wheeler must have called him away on some other duty.”

  Toby put his hand on her shoulder. “Do you know if he left the house any time this morning?” he asked.

  Marie thought for a moment. “He may have done. He said he’d get food from the shed as the cupboards were getting empty.” Her voice quivered. “I haven’t seen him since then.”

  Wheeler looked at her coldly. “I warned him to be careful. But he’s always been lax about security. I’ll go out and have a look and take one of the hunting rifles with me.”

  “I’ll go with you,” Toby said quickly.

  A few minutes later they exited the back door and Ned locked it behind them. He stood there and looked out through the glass until the two returned.

  “He’s nowhere nearby,” Wheeler said.

  “No signs at all?” Ned asked.

  “Unfortunately, some bad ones,” Wheeler replied, “We found the shed door propped open and food lying all over the floor inside.”

  Marie moaned and slumped even more.

  Toby cleared his throat. “Julius, we’re now missing four people. You have the ability to call in help. It’s time you did that.”

  “Right,” Wheeler replied, “I knew you’d say that. But after I dial nine-one-one what exactly do I say? That four people took off because they didn’t like it here? And they’re not exactly missing persons. They keep coming back and breaking in.”

  “They’ll come to harm out there,” Toby protested.

  “Not my fault,” Wheeler answered, “Anyway, they keep stealing my food. The shopping cart Peterman uses is gone now too, full of food and water I’m sure. They look after themselves very well. And Peterman has the key to come back for more.”

  “Does he have keys to the house too?” I asked.

  “Of course, but the front and back doors have extra locks that can’t be opened from the outside so we’re safe enough.”

  “What if they get sick?” Toby persisted.

  “From what Nick told us they’re all fine,” Wheeler countered, “Maybe too fine. If I get medics up here, the cops won’t be long behind them, then a bunch of reporters with news cameras. Next thing I know, I’m headlining the six o’clock news.”

  “I wouldn’t mind some police,” I said, “Sanders assaulted me last night.”

  Wheeler threw his head back and laughed. “From what you told us, you assaulted him right back, and it’s your word against theirs, eh? Believe me, I know how that goes.”

  “You might be right,” Toby
agreed reluctantly, “Outsiders will assume we had a row and the four of them stormed off. And this place is so remote, police may even complain about us wasting their resources.”

  “Let’s get some solid proof that they’re dangerous and criminal,” Wheeler countered, “But until then we need to protect ourselves.”

  Ned frowned. “You’re a heartless bastard, Julius.”

  Wheeler shook his head. “I’m sorry about Abby, and I want to get her back to you, Ned. But I’ve company shareholders to think about and I need to clean up this mess quietly. I can’t have cops snooping around up here, confiscating my hard drive on some feeble excuse.”

  Ned sprung out of his chair and rushed at Wheeler, who also got up. They stood nose to nose and Ned’s fist shot up to within an inch of Wheeler’s chin. Wheeler swayed and fell backward into his chair. Ned spat on the floor and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

  Wheeler got back up and looked around our faces, staring us down. I was the last to look away.

  * * *

  Wheeler sat in his office and chewed the end of a pencil so hard it hurt his teeth. He stared through the window at the panoramic view he had of everything that lay between the house and the river. His eyes fixed on the cruiser, its front end now lolling even deeper in the water than before, and frustration welled up inside him. He liked everything around him to be in perfect working order and to be in complete control of it. Every time he saw the boat it reminded him that this trip was different. He cursed under his breath, knowing full well why he’d crashed into the jetty – when it happened he’d been wide awake for three days, due to the heady cocktail of uppers and skunk cannabis he’d using. It had all been that bitch Georgia’s fault, when she’d nearly scratched his eyes out.