Nightwalk

by D. Nathan Hilliard

  Yet, no. Nothing.

  Every house on the circle sat silent and dark.

  “I don’t know,” I answered in a low voice, “but let’s focus on first things first. Let’s get the garage open and break out those lanterns.”

  “Yeah, I suppose.” She turned and came back to the door. “Ed will be back soon, and I need to have the lantern ready so he can see.”

  She bent to fit the keys in the lock again while I continued to stare at the circle of still houses. Motion caught my eye and I focused where a single small shadow moved in the gutter. Only the faint illumination from the distant fire made it visible. It took me a second to identify it, and a chill ran down my spine once I did…a lone rat making his best speed down the street.

  No, this wasn’t over.

  “And once he gets back,” I replied, “we’ll ask him what he thinks about our no-show neighbors. He’ll probably have a simple explanation for it.”

  “Probably.”

  “And then,” I continued, my eyes following the rat as it disappeared into the darkness, “maybe he can think of another way to get us out of here, because I really don’t think hanging around is a good idea.”

  Chapter Three: Encounters and Strife

  “Got it,” Casey growled and pulled the garage door up. She’d had trouble getting the key to fit right in the dark, and the struggle to get the door unlocked had wreaked havoc on her already marginal ladylike demeanor. “C’mon Uncle Ed, oil your damn locks when they get like this.”

  The door slid up to reveal a rectangular wall of blackness.

  “Oh perfect,” I sighed. “I hope you’ve got a good idea where this stuff is.”

  She fished in her pocket for a second then handed me a cigarette lighter.

  “No problem. You can use this to give me light. Be sure and hold it to my side so my shadow doesn’t stick out in front of me.”

  I looked in surprise at the lighter in my hand. Then I flicked it on, and looked back up at the girl it revealed.

  “Casey? Why are you carrying a cigarette lighter in your pocket?”

  That didn’t go over well at all. She stopped in the act of entering the garage, stiffened, then turned to glare at me.

  “So I’ll have something to light my crack pipe, Mark. Anything else?”

  “What!?”

  I stared at her, aghast. It was obvious sarcasm, disrespectful as hell, and part of me wanted to call her on it right there…but I also realized I had possibly crossed a line and acted a lot more parental than our relationship at this point really justified. Fortunately, Casey must have felt she had crossed a line of her own because she visibly grimaced, then toned the glare back down to “medium surly” before stating the obvious.

  “Uncle Ed gave it to me when he handed over the keys. It’s his.”

  “Oh.”

  In other words I had assumed a posture I didn’t exactly have a right to, in order to make an unspoken accusation with absolutely no merit. Outstanding. Another fine example of top quality bridge-building there.

  She turned away without saying anything else and marched over to the wooden box Ed had described. I followed with the lighter, trying to figure out how to salvage this debacle. But as she sat down in front of the box and opened it, another issue arose that required dealing with.

  “Ow,” I snarled, and let the lighter go out. “Crap. I’m gonna have to let this cool a second.”

  Casey didn’t reply, which hardly came as a surprise.

  I could picture her sitting there in the dark…fuming. The fact she had actually been trying to get something done while I kept holding her up with my little inquisitions and sensitive fingers didn’t make me feel so great either. Dammit, I was supposed to be the adult here.

  “Casey, look, about what I...”

  “Forget it.”

  “No really, I don’t know where that bullshit came from.”

  “I said forget it, Mark. It’s fine.”

  I hate it when women say “It’s fine” because it never leaves me believing it’s fine. Most of the time they make “It’s fine” sound more like “Screw you” than anything else. Still, I had tried to apologize and I didn’t know what else to do.

  So with nothing else to say, I flicked the lighter back on.

  Casey immediately began rummaging around in the box and pulling things out.

  “Here, light this.” She waved a stub of an emergency candle in my direction. “Then go ahead and hang on to the lighter till Ed gets back.”

  I did as directed, feeling relieved to be free of lighter duty. Besides, I decided to take the fact she thought of doing it as evidence my apology had been accepted…or at least put on the “consideration for acceptance” list. Part of me suspected I might be conceding a little too much power to a teenager, but I really wanted us to find a relationship that worked for Stella’s sake.

  Once lit, she stuck the candle stub on the lid of a nearby plastic bucket and then resumed pulling things out of the chest.. The flame’s feeble glow in the heavy atmosphere gave the garage a certain dungeon-like ambiance.

  Watching her work in the dim light made me realize I could now be useful again as well.

  “Ed said those blankets were in his hallway closet, right?

  “Yeah.”

  “I’m gonna go ahead and get those while you’re fishing the lanterns out.”

  “Thanks.”

  The thanks caught me a bit by surprise, despite it being little more than a grunt, but it counted as a good surprise. I took it as a hopeful sign she had put our near showdown from earlier behind us. At least now I could get back to concentrating on the business at hand. I turned with a hidden sigh of relief and walked over to the door leading into Ed’s house.

  Once I reached the door, I realized I had slipped Ed’s lighter into my own pocket. It would be black as pitch on the other side of the door, so it behooved me to have it out and burning when I went inside. So I stopped a second to fish it out before going in…

  …and that probably saved my life.

  As I stood there, sliding my hand down into my pocket to get the lighter, I naturally looked down and to the side, which put my ear near the door. And in the act of doing so, I heard something get knocked over in Ed’s kitchen.

  I froze at the sound, and slowly turned my head to stare at the door.

  Ed had a hard time getting to things in floor-level cabinets, so he hung all his pots, pans, and major cooking utensils at eye level. The noise that came through the door could have only been one of the pots getting knocked off its hook. And as I listened, I heard the sound of something kicking or striking the pot to send it tumbling across the floor.

  Somebody, or something, moved around in there.

  “Casey?” I called in a hushed voice.

  “Huh?

  “Does Ed have a new cat, or some other animal I don’t know about?”

  “No. Why?”

  “Any company? Somebody staying the night?”

  “Nooooo…” She lit one of the lanterns she had retrieved and rose warily to her feet. The much brighter light came as a blessing, although the lantern had a bit of a halo around it due to the strange atmosphere. “Ed only has company overnight if somebody passed out drunk at one of his parties. He didn’t have a party tonight. Why?”

  “Because,” I now dropped to medium whisper, “there’s somebody banging around in his kitchen right now. I just heard one of the pots he hangs up hit the floor. And then the same person kicked it.”

  “Aw shit,” she whispered.

  Casey dropped back to one knee, reached into the box again and pulled out a strange looking hatchet multitool. It was one of those things that can be a hatchet, a hammer, or a prybar although it looked a bit like a battleaxe. Then she rose to her feet again, jaw set, and started in my direction.

  I had not expected this response, and certainly not desired it.

  “Hey! Hold on there, Rambo. What do you think you’re doing?”

  “What
do you mean, ‘what am I doing?’ I’m stopping somebody from ripping off Uncle Ed!”

  “What?! You are not going in there.”

  “Well, I didn’t plan on going in there alone.”

  “Fine. Then we aren’t going in there. Got it?”

  “Mark,” she hissed, “Uncle Ed has some expensive stuff in there. We can’t let…”

  …and right then something snorted at the door.

  We both froze in surprise and looked in the direction of the sound. Neither of us had expected that. I wasn’t totally sure what to call the noise, but it had definitely been animal in nature, not human. A big animal. And even as we gazed at the door, a new sliding sound came from the other side, as if a bear, or buffalo, or something else along the same size turned around and its fur slid against that side of the barrier.

  Whatever moved over there, it certainly didn’t sound like a man. It sounded…heavier.

  Casey and I frowned at the door, looked at each other, and stared back at the door again.

  Then came the deepest, most gut-twisting growl I ever heard in my life. It was a low bass churgle that sounded like a cross between the world’s biggest crocodile and some abomination fresh from a Jurassic swamp. And as I tried to imagine the throat such a sound could issue from, I realized right then and there I had no desire to meet it.

  I slid my eyes over to look at Casey, and saw the blood drain from her face as well. Whatever bravado she had worked up earlier now completely disappeared. Her eyes grew big as saucers, and she returned my look in the lantern light with an expression of somebody whose foot hovered over a coiled rattlesnake.

  I didn’t blame her one bit…mainly because I think a mere two inches of prefabricated door separated us from something very big and truly deadly.

  Not daring to make a sound, I put my finger to my lips in the universal sign of “be very, very quiet.” Then I pointed at her, the unlit lantern by the box, and finally the open garage door. Afterward I put my finger to my lips again, and raised my eyebrows inquiringly to see if she understood.

  She understood. She would fetch the other lantern then leave the garage while I remained at the door. That way I could at least buy her time to get away or at least close the garage door if the thing came through the door in front of me. Then once she made it out, I would head straight for the outside.

  Until then, I really hoped it didn’t come through the door. Really and truly.

  Moving with exaggerated caution, Casey took several slow steps back then turned toward the box where the other lantern lay. Another couple of steps brought her to it, where she stopped and looked at the unlit lantern with consternation. It only took me a second to realize her problem. She had the lit lantern in one hand and the hatchet in the other…and she damn sure didn’t want to leave the hatchet. Since she wore sweat pants she didn’t have a belt to stick it through, and her big T-shirt didn’t offer any help either.

  I made a tiny “ssst” sound to draw her attention back to me.

  Once again I gestured at her. Then I pointed at the hatchet, then my mouth and made a biting motion. For a second she looked at me like I had lost my mind. I gave her an exasperated, open-palmed shrug in return. She could either do that or leave the hatchet there.

  Another deep growl came through the door. This one sounded even closer, and right about at the level of my chest. I looked over and gave her a look of silent appeal.

  She closed her eyes a second, then opened them with a look of resigned determination. She raised the hatchet tool to her mouth and carefully clenched it in her teeth. I knew it couldn’t be pleasant because the tool had to be heavy, and its handle featured no leather wrapping to make it easier on her teeth. She started to remove her hand, grimaced, then rebalanced the tool in her mouth. Finally, she lowered her hand again and carefully grasped the other lantern.

  Casey slowly came to her feet, her face a study of concentration. Acting as if she were walking on a tightrope, she made her careful way to the driveway outside. I realized she must have been trying to protect her mouth as much as making an effort to be quiet. As soon as she cleared the doorway, she set down the lanterns and removed the hatchet. Having done so, she pointed meaningfully at the garage door.

  I understood what she intended and nodded agreement.

  Without further ado, I did a fast tiptoe out of the garage. As soon as I reached the driveway beside her, I spun around and grabbed the garage door. Then the pair of us pulled the thing down as fast, and as quietly, as humanly possible.

  Once we pulled the door down, we stared wide-eyed at it for a second while catching our breath. Then Casey rounded on me, fists clenched.

  “What the hell was that?” she hissed.

  “I don’t know. A dinosaur? I’ve never heard anything like it before.”

  “No, Mark. I meant what were you doing in there?”

  “Covering for you. What did you think I was doing?”

  “I don’t know…acting like an idiot? You could have been heading out while I got the other lantern and been waiting for me at the garage door.”

  I stared at her in disbelief. If I had done it her way and the mystery beast came through the door, she would have been the first thing it saw. Which meant it almost surely would have gone after her first.

  “I don’t think so. My job was to make sure you got clear first.”

  “Your job? Your job? I don’t remember hiring you for anything like that.”

  Now that made me mad. I had had it with Miss All-That and her attitude, and tonight was not the time to put up with it.

  “Well I hate to disappoint you, Your Highness, but sometimes people make those kinds of decisions without your royal permission. Deal with it!”

  If it were possible, she went paler than before.

  “I do deal with it!” she snarled, getting in my face. “I deal with it every goddamn day! So how about you act like you’ve got a brain in your head and not complicate my life more than it is.”

  What the hell did that even mean?

  “I was trying to make sure you still had a life,” I snapped back. “And by the way, you’re welcome.”

  “By acting retarded? I didn’t ask you to do that, and I don’t want you doing that! Understand? I…don’t…need…it.”

  “Holy shit! Are you serious!?”

  “Do I look like I’m joking?”

  “Why, you horrible little snot! Who do you think…”

  The sound of a car door closing interrupted and we both turned to see the silhouette of Ed walking toward us from the car in the Franzetti driveway. I realized he must have borrowed the keys from Mrs. Franzetti in order to see if he would have any luck getting her car started instead. Apparently he hadn’t.

  “Uncle Ed!” Casey called out. She grabbed up the single lit lantern and ran to meet him halfway in the street.

  This left me standing in the darkness with the unlit lantern, and an overwhelming desire to throttle a certain redhead.

  After all, would it really be such a bad thing to do? The little wretch was obviously batshit crazy, so maybe it would count as a mercy killing. Not to mention, I would probably be doing some poor bastard in the future the biggest favor of his life. That had to count for something, right?

  But alas, no.

  Such things are frowned upon in our society. It’s not fair, but they are. Therefore, until we reached a more enlightened level of civilization where murdering mentally unstable and obnoxious teens received the recognition as the public service it deserved, I would have to forbear.

  So with a muttered apology to whatever unlucky slob ended up with her for a life-mate, I picked up the lanterns and trudged after her.

  The pair stood in the middle of the dark cul-de-sac, talking as I approached. I arrived in the puddle of their lantern light just in time to hear her wrapping up a breathless account of what happened in the garage. I noticed she omitted our precise actions, and the following showdown, but charitably chose to believe she preferred to keep tha
t particular event between the two of us.

  Or maybe she simply wasn’t ready for the rest of the world to know what a little psycho she was.

  Okay, maybe I didn’t feel so charitable yet.

  “Mark?” Ed’s voice caught my attention and I realized Casey and I were glaring at each other again. “What’s this about an animal in my house?”

  “Yeah.” I gave her one final look promising this wasn’t over, then turned to face Ed. “She’s telling it like it is. There’s something in your house, and it ain’t human. But it ain’t a dog or any other animal I know of either.”

  “What?”

  “I’m serious, Ed. Whatever is in your house right now is big, and I mean really big. It had a growl like nothing I’ve ever heard before.”

  “But you didn’t see it?”

  “God, no! If I had seen that thing I wouldn’t be here right now. Believe me, the only reason Casey and I are alive is because I don’t think it has figured out what a door is…yet”

  “You’re really serious?” He eyeballed me with a wary expression.

  “As a heart attack,” I responded with all the sincerity I could muster. “Ed, there is something in your house, and it’s something we absolutely should not try to tackle. We’re gonna need to find a plan B.”

  He stared at me for a second then glanced over to Casey, who nodded solemnly.

  The scowl she cast in my direction made it clear that agreeing with me about anything threatened to give her a rash, but she would muscle through and do it for the sake of truth. What a peach.

  “Okaaay then,” Ed muttered, and reached back under his Hawaiian shirt to produce a small automatic pistol. He frowned at the house, obviously considering his options.

  “Holy shit, Ed,” I stared at the firearm with surprise. “You never told me you carried a gun.”

  “You never asked.”

  I realized right then it shouldn’t have surprised me. Several of the others in Ed’s group of friends carried weapons. Come to think of it, everybody in his crew probably had a license for concealed carry. And I guess when you’re in your sixties and missing a leg, it only makes sense if you have the option.