“No, what?”
“Do you have a Nerf football, or better yet a beach ball? If we could deflate a beach ball halfway we could put the light inside the ball a bit, you know… giving it more protection. Or we could wrap the light inside a couple of plastic balls I guess. What do you think?”
“Not bad,” Dan said.
“We could do both,” Roger said. “We could wrap the flashlight inside the sponges and between a couple of balls. How about that Dan, do you have any balls?”
“I think so. Want me to look?”
“Yes,” Roger said, taking the sponge/flashlight/tape combination from Dan’s hand. “You look and I’ll tape the sponges to the flashlight.”
“This is exciting!” Cameron said. “I feel like I’m starting an adventure!”
Dan nodded. “It’ll be interesting to see what’s down there.”
“Absolutely,” Roger agreed. “I never expected to be on a quest today.”
Dan slapped his hands together. “You want to come to the garage with me, Cam? Help me look?”
“Sure.”
“Okay then, let’s go!”
9
Nicolas Nehalem drove along Stone Path Road slowly, inspecting every car parked in every driveway. If the driveway was long and he needed a closer look, he parked and approached the building on foot. He was systematic and methodical. Cameron was located in a perfectly terrible position, and the only way she’d escape would be due to negligence on his part. And that wasn’t going to happen.
Nicolas found three driveways together that led onto a short, fat peninsula; he had himself a winner.
Dan’s car was located beneath the shade of a large elm tree, two hundred feet from the road, in the driveway of a summer home that looked like it cost a Hollywood fortune. The house was big and beautiful and stylishly elegant.
Nicolas walked around the house slowly and cautiously, making note of the surrounding area. He peeked through the building’s windows with care, which were strong and thick and designed to give intruders a hard time.
He didn’t see anyone inside the house, figured Cameron and her friends were either upstairs or in the basement. Either way, it didn’t matter. He wanted to wait until the evening turned to night and the sky became black.
Nicolas returned to his car, which wasn’t far from Dan’s driveway. He opened the trunk and let out a small gasp, surprised at what he discovered.
Pauline Anderson, a.k.a., Pauline Stupid-Head, was in the trunk. She looked five years dead.
She wasn’t.
The corpse was only twenty-six days old, but her body told a different story.
Pauline’s muscles had shriveled; her skin had deteriorated. She was exceedingly dehydrated on the day she died––the day Nicolas emptied his cage, dragging her from her shit-filled pen, screaming and crying, pleading and begging, only to have her throat slit while Olive and Cathy watched in terror.
Now she looked truly monstrous, horrific.
Her lips had curled into tight stringy worms. Her eyes had fallen into her head. Chipped arrowhead teeth pointed in all directions, encased inside her purple, rotting maw. Her hands had no fingers; her feet had few toes. Her arms and legs looked like they had been embalmed, salted, and cured. The only place on her body that seemed recently deceased was her stomach, which was a soup bowl of maggots and flies.
It was hard to believe she just turned sixteen.
Nicolas scratched his ear and sighed. “I forgot about you,” he said. “I forgot you were back there. You should have told me.”
He laughed. He made a joke.
“Now where am I going to put Cameron, huh? Do you think I should let her ride up front? I don’t. My God, girl... you’ve been nothing but trouble since you were thirteen years old.”
Nicolas considered throwing the corpse in the bushes but decided against it. Uncalculated moves could only bring unwanted trouble. He was better off leaving her in the trunk. Cameron might not like being back there with a corpse but tough-tit said the shit, she’d get over it. And besides, home was only three minutes away.
He lifted a shotgun and a box of shells from beside Pauline’s corpse. He placed them on the gravel and pushed the carcass to the back of the trunk, making room for Cameron. He closed the trunk with a grunt, lifted the shotgun and the shells from the road, and walked up the driveway grinning.
Halfway to the house he stopped, listening to the sound of a door opening. He could hear people stepping outside. A man and a woman were talking.
Nicolas scratched his head.
Maybe Cameron had a husband. If so, that was bad. He didn’t like breaking up married couples, but he’d do it if he had to.
“Okay baby,” he whispered. “Daddy’s coming.” With his shotgun close to his chest he looked at the bloated moon, which was peeking up from behind a line of trees that looked healthy and green.
Soon it would be time for adoption.
10
Cameron and Daniel entered the garage. Dan clicked on the overhead light, walked past a small fishing boat, and approached a workbench.
Cameron said, “So, Daniel. Where’s the wife?”
“Home.”
“And where’s home?”
“About an hour south of here, in little town called Martinsville. You know it?”
“Everyone knows Martinsville. I went to school near there, remember? The place is famous. You didn’t know James McGee, did you? The guy that killed those people?”
“Actually,” Daniel said with shoulders slumping, “I knew him very well. James was my cousin.”
Cameron was shocked. “Really?”
“Yep. Sad to say, but it’s true.”
“I can’t believe it!”
“Well, believe it. We have the same last name and everything.”
“That’s right! You said that your last name was McGee. That’s amazing!”
“Oh, real amazing. Too bad my uncle wasn’t Adolph Hitler.”
“No, I don’t mean it like that. It’s just that… you seem so normal.”
“I am normal.”
“That’s not what I mean. I just… it’s weird to think you’re related to a psychopath.”
Daniel glanced at the floor. “I guess.”
The conversation wasn’t going the way Cameron anticipated. She wanted to get to know Daniel in a good way, not like this. She was hoping he’d say he had a troubled marriage and it was ending. She wanted him to be looking for someone different, someone young and energetic, like her. Instead they were talking about the Terror of Martinsville, who––as it turned out––was a close relative. Yikes. How did that happen? Somehow the conversation made a wrong turn and ended up in Horror City.
Needing to mend the verbal exchange, Cameron steered the discussion into neutral ground. “See any beach balls?”
Dan looked inside an old trunk. “If I have balls,” he said with a grin and a smirk, “they’re in here.”
He pulled out a football and a basketball. They looked heavy. “This is it, and I don’t think they’re going to be very helpful.”
“Maybe we should stick with the sponges?”
“Yeah, maybe.”
Dan tossed the balls into the trunk.
Something moved on the other side of the garage window. It might have been the shadow from a tree, but Dan didn’t think so. He thought someone was out there.
Cameron took Daniel’s hand and gave it a squeeze.
“Sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable. I had no idea you were related to James McGee.” She moved closer and her eyes widened. She squeezed his hand tighter, tilting her head to the side.
“That’s okay,” Dan said, stepping back. A line appeared in his forehead. “I’m not uncomfortable.”
“That’s good. I don’t want you to feel bad.”
“I know.”
“I want to make you feel good.”
Dan may or may not have felt awkward before, but here and now… he was
standing with a beautiful young girl holding hands. They were alone. And she was looking at him in a way that made him feel guilty, like he was supposed to wrap his arms around her and give her a kiss. But he couldn’t do that. He was happily married; he was in love.
But still…
Cameron’s dark hair was cut just below the shoulder. Her eyes were big and beautifully, perfectly stunning above the thin arc of her nose. Her lips were full; her breasts were neither large nor small, but just the size Daniel liked breasts to be.
These things added up.
Dan was uncomfortable, all right. Worse than that, Cameron was blocking the exit. Was she blocking it on purpose? He hoped not, but that seemed to be the situation.
He said, “Wanna get going?”
Cameron could hear the nervousness in his voice. Reluctantly, she released his hand and stepped back, saying, “Okay.”
Daniel slipped past her and walked a straight line, forgetting about the shadow in the window.
What just happened? he wondered. Did Cameron hit on me? She knows I’m married. And she’s too young for me. Doesn’t she realize the age difference is ten years or more? Shouldn’t she be with guys her own age? What the hell is that crazy girl thinking?
As they entered the house, Cameron said, “Hey Daniel, want to give me a tour of your place? I’d love to see it.”
She’s on the rebound, Dan thought. She’s pissed off at what’s-his-name and now she looking for action, trying to create a moment.
“Uh… sure, Cam,” he said, playing nonchalant. But it was so strange. He remembered these moves from high school. Being older, he could see right through this stuff. Didn’t she know that? Dan cleared his throat. “I’ll give you the tour later. Right now I want to do the basement thing.”
He went straight for the basement door and made his way down the stairs, not giving her a chance to debate the matter. He was fast; quickness was his polite defense.
Cameron followed.
Smiling, Roger said, “Any luck?” He was sitting at the edge of the hole, eager to descend.
Dan shook his head. “Not really. We found a couple balls in the garage but they wouldn’t be helpful. Too heavy. Things wouldn’t be better, just different.”
“Oh.”
“You know,” Cameron said, looking at Roger inquisitively. “I have an umbrella in my car. Maybe we could use it like a parachute.”
“Naw,” Roger said. “I just wanna go down there. Screw the umbrella.” He held the flashlight, now wrapped inside nine strategically placed sponges. “I’ll carry this bad-boy as far as I can, then I’ll drop it.”
Dan picked a flashlight off the floor and slid it between his belt and his jeans.
The doorbell rang.
Roger laughed. “Who could that be?”
Daniel laughed too. “Damned if I know. I didn’t tell anyone I was here, and Sandra’s working ‘til Friday… so, who knows?” He shrugged. “Whatever. I’ll be back in a second.”
“Don’t be long,” Cameron said with a naughty smile.
Dan returned the smile with the naughtiness removed. Wow, he thought, turning away. She never quits.
11
Nicolas had watched Cameron and Daniel interacting in the garage. He was standing near the window, listening to their conversation through the glass. He caught some of what they were saying, and he didn’t like what he was hearing. They seemed friendly, too friendly, in his opinion. He whispered, “What am I going to do about this?”
This was a tough situation, one he didn’t care for at all. But what could he do?
He considered shooting the man and taking Cameron to his home immediately. Problem was, he knew there was somebody else inside the house, maybe even two or three somebodies.
What would happen when the shotgun blasted?
Those somebodies will come out, that’s what! They’ll come running, wanting to know what the fuss is about. What then? Do I shoot ‘em? Do I shoot ‘em all? Is that my plan… or is that PLAN B?
A tough spot all right. Very tough.
He allowed Cameron and the man to finish their conversation and return indoors without incident, which seemed smart.
Play it cool, he told himself. If I play it cool, the visitors will go home and I’ll be able to deal with Cameron, alone. That way, things will run smoothly.
A new idea came: maybe Cameron will want to come to my place.
That was a possibility.
She’ll want to…
But what if more people arrive? What if the house becomes a party house? What then? Do I join the party? Go home? Wait for Cameron to step outside and smash her head open with a rock?
Waiting seemed dangerous.
Nicolas considered walking in, blasting everyone in sight and taking the girl. It was a reasonable thing to do. It was practical and rational, fast and fun… but was it right?
He let the idea swish around awhile.
He had never done anything so bold before, so dangerous––walking inside and killing everyone. Wow. That was risky.
But it would be fun.
There will be trouble afterwards, guaranteed. The cops will be snooping. Might as well face the facts and figure the angles before inviting the weight of world to drop by for a visit.
Nicolas spat on the wall and watched the liquid roll down the wood. He put a finger in the wet spot, drew a happy face, crept into the shadows, and lifted the shotgun.
Somebody new was approaching.
Nicolas released a twisted grin. And as he squeezed the shotgun tight, his eyes turned to slits.
12
Standing on the step with a hand on each hip was Dan’s good friend, Patrick Love. Pat was a good kid, twenty-three years old, friendly. His parents had a cottage next door.
“Well look who it is,” Dan said, answering the door with a smile. “Patrick! What’s shakin’ buddy?
The two men slapped hands and embraced with a hug.
Pat said, “Hey man, I saw the lights on and came over to say hi!”
“Good to see you!”
“Yeah, you too! I’m doing the cottage thing all week long. Couple pals are coming up on Wednesday, a couple more on Thursday, and a whole gang of them are coming on Friday night.”
“Where are your parents in all of this? Do they know you’re having a weeklong party?”
Pat smirked. “First of all, it’s not a weeklong party. It’s a weekend party, and yes––they know. They gave me the cottage for the week, said I could do what I wanted.”
Daniel laughed. “Why did they do that?”
“Because I finished college and I am a respectable adult now… duh. What do you think?”
“Daniel laughed again, saying, “A respectable adult? You wish, man.”
“It’s true. Believe it or not I’m done school, and this is my week to celebrate. My parents have been very cool lately. They took me out to diner, gave me a thousand bucks. They even helped me finance a car.”
Dan embellished a look of astonishment, but in truth he didn’t need to embellish much. He was impressed. Patrick was constantly impressing Dan in one way or another. “You have a car now?”
“How else could I get here, fly?”
“I don’t know. You alone?”
“Yeah. How about you? Where’s Sandra?”
“Sandra’s home. She’s coming on Friday.”
“Hey! That’s just in time for my party!”
“I guess it is.”
“Sweet. So you’re alone too?”
“Actually––” Daniel stepped back and held the door open. “Come on in. I’ve got people in the basement.”
Pat stepped inside and closed the door. “In the basement? Why? I’ve seen your basement, Dan… it’s awful. Looks like Mordor down there. All you need is the Great Eye and a bunch of hairy Orcs.”
“Not any more.”
“No?”
Dan walked to the kitchen, opened the fridge, and handed Pat a beer. “I’m renovating,” he said. “An
d I found a… shit. I don’t know what to call it. A pit?”
“A pit? You found a pit in your basement? What are you, high?”
Dan smiled. “Come look.”
13
They entered in the basement, Dan first, then Pat.
Patrick smiled at Roger, who was sitting at the base of the trapdoor. They knew each other from the restaurant.
Roger nodded.
Pat said, “Hey.”
“Who’s this?” Cameron asked, trying to look cute.
“This is Patrick Love, a good friend of mine. He’s got a cottage a couple doors down. Patrick, meet Cameron.”
“Hi.”
“Hi.”
As an afterthought, Daniel said, “Patrick’s single.”
Cameron shot Daniel a dirty look as she clamped her flashlight to a belt loop.
Patrick said, “I’m not single.”
Daniel looked at Cameron and shrugged, playing the fool. Turning to Pat, he said, “No?”
“No.”
“But you’re always single.”
“No I’m not.”
“Every summer, you’re single. True or false?”
Terror Town Page 6
