I wondered if he was on some kind of medication, which led me to guess where he might have spent the past three or four years. It would make sense…him being a juvenile at the time, the nature of the crime, and upper middle-class parents who could probably afford the type of lawyers capable of cutting a deal with a prosecutor to avoid jail.
“Is this yours, sir?”
Once again he spoke in a soft voice, without any particular inflection. I had been so wrapped up in trying to get an impression of him it caught me off guard, and it took me a further second to realize he held something out toward me.
“Oh!” I recovered, then recognized the object he held. “My hat! Uh…thanks.”
I stared at the garment in near disbelief. It had been on the roof? The roof?! Damn, that monster had not only knocked me a flip, it had hit me hard enough to knock my hat clear up on top of the freaking house.
Tommy handed over my fedora without comment, and I held it up before me.
It made for a pretty sorry sight. Two deep notches scored the brim, and a large ragged gash that nearly severed the hatband opened up the side. Oh well, so much for my classic, Humphrey Bogart style, ninety-dollar fedora.
But no point in crying over spilt milk. I gave a rueful sigh at the damage and stuffed the hat back on top of my head. I’m sure it looked somewhat ridiculous, but right then I decided to consider it my lucky hat. Hell, I still lived, didn’t I?
“Hey, Mark? You ready?”
I glanced back to see Ed give me a fatalistic grin, and readjust his own hat. It didn’t take a genius to know what that look and gesture meant. We had nowhere to go but forward.
“Yeah,” I replied, and opened the gate. “Let’s do this.”
We stepped out into the night…Tommy and I in front, the two girls behind us, with Ed and Sid bringing up the rear. It made for a sensible arrangement, and I confess I took some small comfort in the fact that Casey’s unease about Tommy made her willing to hang back a little, otherwise I’m sure she would have insisted on being in the front line.
Even with the lantern in the patio window, the darkness felt oppressive. I could barely make out the lighthouse in the center of the circle. Fortunately, the vehicle in question waited right next door and had a white paint job. It stood out plainly in the dim illumination.
It was one of those large, extended work vans with a raised roof and a rack on top. The rack held a ladder and a long bundle of PVC pipe. It looked like a brute of a vehicle, and I wondered if it might not provide better shelter than the patio. After all, this didn’t have an open window so what happened to the Sawyers wouldn’t necessarily apply here.
We reached the van without incident, and Ed immediately went to trying keys on the back doors. He fumbled in the dim light, but on the third try the key fit. Then I experienced a moment of consternation as he motioned us back and had Tommy stand about fifteen feet behind the van with bow drawn.
That’s when I realized we might really be pushing our luck.
A lot of things had appeared inside things like houses and storm drains tonight. And while we acted with caution, I had my doubts about whether we were up for another big fight. There weren’t a lot of us, and half of us counted as wounded. But like Ed had indicated, our only way lay forward.
Now he looked around at all our faces, his hand on the door handle.
“Here we go,” he whispered, and turned the handle.
Then he pulled the door open, stepping back with it as he did and throwing the glow stick he got from Ashlyn around the door and into the van. Tensed and ready for anything, we all held our breath.
But apparently this time the fates decided to be kind.
“Nothing,” Tommy monotoned, and lowered his bow. “It’s empty.”
With a collective sigh of relief, we moved back in.
As it turned out, “empty” was a relative term. While devoid of wildlife, its previous owner had crammed the van full of all kinds of tools, hoses, shelves, and other apparatus. There would have barely been enough room in there for a monster of any size to begin with.
Ed pulled himself into the vehicle without delay and immediately started rummaging around and handing stuff out to Casey.
“Casey,” he said, while handing her a couple of small buckets and a rag, “I want you to take these buckets and get to draining the oil into them as soon as I’m done here and give you the glow stick.”
“Got it.”
“Ashlyn,” he continued, giving her a bundle of short copper pipes and a handful of hose clamps, “We’re going to use these to make torches. We’ll wrap the strips of cloth around the top and then use the hose clamps to tighten them in place.”
“Okay.”
“Mark? Sid? I need you two to go over to the next couple of houses and get the flags out of their front yards. Bring back the poles too.”
Sid and I looked at each other for a moment. Considering our near dustup only fifteen minutes earlier, he wouldn’t have normally been my first choice as a companion, and I’m sure he felt the same way. At the same time, I realized the whole thing had been stupid and I really didn’t have anything personal against him.
He didn’t object, so the pair of us turned to do as requested. But we had barely taken a step when an objection came from an entirely unexpected quarter.
“Excuse me,” Tommy’s quiet monotone broke in,” but are you intending to tear up a bunch of American flags so you can burn them as torches?”
That brought everything to a halt.
I don’t know how to explain it, because he asked the question in the same emotionless voice, but something in his tone caused my stomach to sink right through the pavement. And whatever it was, everybody else there heard it too. Five pairs of eyes settled on the boy as people froze at whatever they were doing.
“So? Who cares?” Sid replied with a puzzled look. It occurred to me he also didn’t come from this neighborhood, and probably had no idea of this kid’s history.
Tommy’s face remained the same unreadable mask as he turned his gaze on Sid. His expression showed nothing, but I suddenly feared the worst. This might be a kid, but physically he outclassed the rest us. He was younger, stronger, and faster than any other guy here…not to mention he had killed the lion’s share of those monsters earlier. And God only knew what went on behind those barren eyes. I dreaded the idea of any kind of altercation involving him, because I had a sick feeling it would definitely not end well.
Fortunately, that never got put to the test because Ed intervened.
“Tommy?” he asked gently from his place in the door of the van. “Are you uncomfortable with that?”
The kid stared at Sid a second longer before returning his attention to Ed.
“Yes, sir,” he replied.
Ed studied him intently as he lowered himself out of the van and approached the boy. The rasp of his prosthetic sounded loud in the sudden hush.
“You used to be a Boy Scout, didn’t you,” he didn’t so much as inquire, as confirmed.
“Yes, sir.”
“And you took that pretty seriously, didn’t you.”
“Yes, sir.”
Ed nodded as if in understanding. He stopped in front of Tommy, and eyed him judiciously.
“I used to be a Boy Scout, too.” He looked the kid in the eyes with a serious face. “And I remember the same lessons on how we should treat our flag. When I worked for the Fire Department, it was often my job to run it up the flagpole every morning. I always handled it correctly, and with respect. You’ve probably done the same thing. I bet you even know how to fold it correctly, don’t you.”
“Yes, sir.”
“But I notice you didn’t object to them being used to cover the dead.”
“They’ve been used for that before.”
“Right,” Ed nodded again, and laid a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “That’s true. But Tommy, the scouts also taught a lot of other stuff. And tonight I’m really going to need you to focus on that other stuff. He
lpfulness…courage…and most important of all, mentally awake. If you were as close to Eagle Scout as I’ve heard, then I know you must have learned a lot of ways to improvise out in the wild. Right?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Tommy,” he lowered his voice, “tonight we’re in the wild. The normal rules have been suspended. I really appreciate your skill with that bow, but I need for you to be mentally awake and thinking in terms of survival.”
The kid stared at him without answering.
“I need,” Ed continued, “for you to remember all you can about improvisation, and what you can do to help in that area. That’s the scout I need tonight. We all do. It may mean using some things in ways we normally never would, but at the same time understanding it’s for a greater good. Can you do that for us?”
I think we all held our breath as Tommy stared at Ed, then did a slow scan of the group before returning his flat gaze to the older man. He looked down at the ground for a moment, obviously thinking hard. Finally he raised his eyes and answered.
“Yes, sir,” he whispered.
To our credit, nobody breathed an audible sigh of relief.
“Thank you,” Ed gripped the boy’s shoulder tight, “and I really mean that. I’ve got the stuff together to make a splint for Mrs. Treadwell, and I’m about to head back to help her. What I need you to do right now is stay at the van and keep watch while Casey’s under there draining the oil…at least until Mark and Sid get back. Okay?”
“Yes, sir.”
Releasing Tommy’s shoulder, Ed handed Casey his glow stick and turned to pick up whatever he had gathered from the van.
I didn’t know how I felt about leaving Casey and Ashlyn alone with Tommy, but since neither of them spoke up I decided to leave things be. Besides, the van would never be out of my sight. With a nod at Sid, I turned to head for the nearest flag with him at my side.
“What was that all about?” Sid asked as we walked.
I gave him a quick fill in on what the girls told me while I wrestled with the first flag. The pole weighed too much to be of use to anybody, so we chose to simply remove the flag from it.
“Seriously?” Sid looked back in the direction of the van. “You think he’s really dangerous?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “Probably not. The truth is lots of people kill animals and don’t turn into serial killers. Not to mention he was out there alone with Ashlyn for a while and she’s okay.”
“Yeah, that’s true,” he shrugged. “Still, it’s kind of creepy. And the whole Super Boy Scout angle he took on the flag seemed pretty off too, if you ask me. On the other hand, I guess I’m glad he’s on our side. He’s a complete badass against those monsters.”
“I heard.”
“Oh, right. You were out. You didn’t come to until later.”
“Yeah,” I agreed…remembering that “later” and what happened then.
We moved in silence to the next yard, where I started wrestling the flagpole free from the ground. Sid held the flag from the first yard and watched in silence. I guess he remembered our little altercation too.
“Sid,” I paused from the work and stood to face him, “Look, I’m sorry about what I said back there on the patio. I had my hands full and shot off my mouth without thinking.”
Sid grimaced, then shrugged.
“Forget it.”
“You sure? I don’t want any bad blood between us.”
“Yeah,” he shrugged again. “Like you said, you kinda had things getting crazy on you. Besides, Darla can be a bit difficult even at the best of times, and I guess the stress is really getting to her. Tell you what, let’s make an agreement between us guys…I’ll try to get her to ease up on the two girls, and you try to keep the feisty one calm. Deal?”
“Deal,” I replied, then looked up at him quizzically as I grasped the pole to pull again. “You talk like you know her. Are you two acquainted?”
Sid grinned broadly at me, then cast a surreptitious glance in the direction of the patio.
“Let’s just say, this ain’t the first pizza I’ve delivered to this address.”
I stared blankly at him for a couple of seconds before I got it. Of course! Nobody around this neighborhood delivered pizza this late. Sometimes I ain’t the world’s quickest mystery writer.
“Ohhhhhh….”
“Yeah,” he laughed quietly. “I know, it’s like a plot out of a bad porn flick…bored wife and the pizza man. But she’s a lot hotter than anything I’ve banged before, and I suppose she counts as my one brush with celebrity.”
“Celebrity?” I echoed, trying to place the name Darla Dower. “I sort of feel like I’ve seen her before, but I can’t place her. Is she famous?”
Yep, there we stood in the middle of a monster infested night with him bragging about his hottest conquest and me paying rapt attention. I guess us guys can be a little strange sometimes too.
“Not hardly,” he chuckled. “Her husband is the famous one…Happy Harry Dower?”
“Ah! The radio guy,” I exclaimed as I finally pulled the pole free. “Now I get it.”
Happy Harry Dower was a radio personality on one of the local morning shows. And as soon as I remembered him, I realized where I had seen Darla Dower before. She had been the featured bikini model in the radio station’s TV ads.
“But waitaminute,” I frowned as I put it all together. “Isn’t Harry Dower an old guy? Like in his sixties?”
“Seventy-three.”
“Oh, well I guess that explains why he’s Happy Harry…or at least he used to be,” I finished, remembering the shrouded form on the patio. Then my mystery writer instincts finally kicked in and I saw the anomaly. “But if he was home, what were you doing here?”
“Harry hits the bed early,” he explained. “Once I got off for the night, I came over and picked Darla up. She had snuck out and waited in the darkness beside the house. Then we parked down at the end of the circle. That’s where we were when the lights went out and shit went crazy.”
“What’d you do then?”
“I walked her back to her front gate. I had just turned around to go back to my car when all the screaming broke out in the house.”
“The ‘killer fireflies’?” I recalled Darla’s description of whatever infested her house.”
“Yeah, if you want to call them that. They’re about three inches long and look more like wasps. Only their butt glows like a lightning bug. But they sting, and wherever they sting you raises up into a welt about the size of a softball. Then a couple of minutes later that welt dissolves into red foam. Harry barely made it out of the house, and I managed to stomp the two on him.”
“But it was too late?”
“Yeah. They had already nailed him several times, and a few minutes later he looked like Swiss cheese wrapped around a leaky sausage. Their housekeeper didn’t quite make it out, and we heard her screaming right inside the door as they finished her off. Later, when I took a peek inside the little window by the door, I didn’t see nothing left of her but bones and bloody bubbles.”
“Damn,” I muttered while nodding toward the next flag. “So much for Happy Harry and company.”
I gathered the next two flags in silence as Sid continued his monologue on Darla, Harry, and their former situation. Although he came across as ridiculously callous considering the current situation, I found myself starting to pity the guy.
I could tell he was utterly infatuated with her.
And that’s why I felt sorry for him.
I had a feeling it wouldn’t be long before a newly free Darla, who still enjoyed the benefits of her late husband’s property and bank accounts, would set her sights a lot higher than the pizza delivery guy. And she didn’t strike me as the type to let people down kindly.
We reached the asphalt path at the end of the circle Casey had mentioned and I paused to peer down its length. I couldn’t see much. We were getting too far from the lantern, and it disappeared almost immediately as it passed be
tween the backyard fences of the flanking houses.
Not wanting to push my luck, I considered the next two houses on the other side of the path. Both had flags, but the first now had a lurid red light shining in an upstairs window and the second was the one slowly imploding in on itself. The faint crackle of snapping wall beams punctuated the unearthly sounds of the night, and I also noticed a couple of dark cracks appearing in that house’s front yard.
Compromising with common sense, I hurried over and snatched the flag of the first one, then indicated to Sid our little excursion had reached its end.
We returned to the van where Ashlyn had already made one torch out of a large rag she found in the van and had it soaking in a bucket of oil. Casey still lay under the vehicle so she must have been filling another bucket. Tommy squatted on top of van, which I thought kind of silly before realizing it meant he could see something approaching from any direction.
As soon as we arrived he hopped down, handed Ashlyn his hunting knife, then stalked off without a word into the darkness between Darla’s house and the plumber’s. I guessed he didn’t want to watch us cut up flags.
But to my surprise he appeared again almost immediately, and he returned pushing a wheelbarrow.
“What are you doing?” I asked as he parked it by the van.
“I saw it leaning against the plumber’s house,” he offered in a deadpan tone. “We can use it to move Mrs. Treadwell if we don’t stay here.”
Well, that certainly made sense. This kid creeped the hell out of me, but at least he seemed to be thinking. I started to commend him, but got beaten to the punch from an unexpected direction.
“That’s a great idea, Tommy,” Ashlyn smiled up at him from her place on the bumper of the van. “Good thinking.”
He gave her a slightly puzzled look, and nodded.
“I’ll take it over to the patio then,” he added softly, then proceeded to do so.
We watched him leave, with nobody speaking until he entered the gate and turned out of sight. Then once again, the speaker came as a surprise.
“Ashlyn,” Casey grouched as she came around the corner of the van, smeared with dirt and grease, and with another bucket of oil in hand, “what are you doing?”
Nightwalk Page 15
