Doppelganger

by Byron Starr

  James was just about to yell for Emilio again when the overhead light came on. Emilio was standing in the hallway to the master bedroom in his underwear.

  “Dream?” Emilio asked groggily

  “Kids!” James yelled frantically. “There’s kids in the house!”

  At first Emilio didn’t understand what James meant. He stood in the hallway rubbing his temples. Then it sank in what James was talking about. He woke up immediately. “Whose house, James? Do you know whose house it was?”

  “I know her, but I can’t remember her name,” James said, calming down a little. “She’s not married and has a young daughter.” James became frantic again and added. “Oh God, there are five kids at that house.”

  Emilio had only lived in Newton for two years he was going to have to get some better details to figure this one out, and there was no way he was going to be able to piece together the ranting of a panicked person and decipher where this was happening. The only way he was going to be able to figure out where this was taking place was for James to pull himself together. The only chance for them to save the girls was for James to come up with a name or an address that they could call in to the dispatcher.

  Emilio walked over to James and grabbed him firmly by the shoulders. “Think, James, think. We need a name. Whose house is it?”

  James’ mind was tangled with thoughts of those little girls and thoughts of his son, when he’d found him ripped apart while still in bed. It was a struggle between two sides of his mind. One side of his mind pulled him toward the simple, yet temporary, happiness of hysterics, the other more logical side of his mind cried out for him to get a hold of himself.

  Finally, just as Emilio was about to resort to slapping him, James said, “I know her. I remember working her car, a little foreign car. She lives in town.”

  “James, we need a name or an address.”

  At first James didn’t respond, his panicked mind was busy recalling how hard it had been to get parts for the little hatchback. Right now he could remember the make and model of the girl’s car – Hell, he could probably even come up with the VIN number if he set his mind to it – but he couldn’t come up with the girl’s name.

  However, while his mind was fumbling along, he did manage to remember her first name. “Tina! Her name is Tina!”

  “What’s her last name! For Christ’s sake, think!”

  Then it came to him. “Peck! It’s Tina Peck!” James said

  Emilio quickly picked up the phone and dialed the Sheriff’s Department.

  While the phone was ringing, James spoke up, “No, I take that back. It’s Beck. With a ‘B’. Tina Beck.”

  “Sheriff’s Department?”

  “Clara, this is Emilio! We’ve got an emergency! Send someone over to Tina Beck’s residence immediately!” Emilio spouted out.

  “Who did you say this was?”

  “Emilio Rodriguez, you need to ... ”

  “Now, what’s your emergency?”

  “Damn it Clara! That thing is attacking a house that’s got five children in it right now! Now get someone over to the Beck house, now!” Emilio shouted over the phone.

  Now it was Clara’s turn to panic. “Oh goodness. Oh goodness. Uh, hold on.” At first Emilio didn’t hear anything. He had just about given up on Clara and was about to run out to his SUV and use his radio to contact the Newton Police Department. Then he heard Clara talking on the radio. She was calling all cars in the area to the Beck house.

  As soon as Emilio heard that cars were on the way, he and James threw on some clothes, got in Emilio’s truck, and headed for Tina Beck’s house themselves.

  * * *

  Tina sat in her rocker-recliner, still dressed in blue jeans and sweater. It was past one o’clock in the morning, but she was still up watching TV. There were only two bedrooms in the tiny house, and they were positioned right next to each other. With all the giggling that was going on in her daughter’s room, there was no way she was going to get any rest until the girls went to sleep. Not only that, Tina felt she needed to stay awake to play peacemaker if the girls started bickering again. However, it was beginning to look like the slumber party was winding down. Tina might actually get some sleep tonight after all. She could tell by the lack of light coming under the door that the girls had turned out the lights.

  Tina was comfortable and beginning to doze off. She was just weighing the options of going to bed or sleeping in her rocker-recliner when a knock came from the door. At first Tina thought it was the girls banging around and paid no attention, but then the knock came again.

  A mother in charge of her daughter and four other young girls for the night, Tina’s first reaction was alarm. They lived on Houston Street, only one street from where Alma Carroll was killed. The curtains were drawn, but they were thin cheap curtains and Tina could still clearly make out the shape of what appeared to be a woman at her door. Tina slowly stood up and without approaching the window, tried to look through a crack between the curtains and the window itself. She couldn’t tell who it was, but it certainly wasn’t a bear or a mountain lion, which was currently the favored local story as to what was doing all the killings.

  Tina watched as the shape in the curtain reached toward the door.

  Knock, knock, knock.

  Well, mountain lions certainly don’t knock before entering. Tina started for the door.

  * * *

  In Lisa’s room, the knocking had stirred up the girls, none of whom had actually gone to sleep. They chattered and squealed that it was the werewolf-monster that ate “the lunchroom lady.” Lisa and Shelly went to the window to see who it was. They couldn’t quite see around a large holly bush that was situated between Lisa’s window and the front door. Behind them Crystal and Theresa were telling Megan that the werewolf-thing had come for her, causing tears to start welling up in the already emotional little teenager’s eyes.

  Lisa and Shelly pressed their faces to the window trying to see around the tree. Finally Shelly got a good look and called out, “It’s Megan’s mom!”

  * * *

  The front door on the house had a glass window set in it. Tina pulled back the little curtain, and peered outside. “Mrs. Pierce?”

  “Hi, Lisa,” Margo Pierce said. “I just thought I’d come by and see if Megan was behaving.”

  This struck Lisa as being very odd. Why was Margo Pierce, the Police Chief’s sister, violating the curfew? Everything was wrong about this. Maybe Megan had snuck into Tina’s room and used the phone to call her mother, but it still didn’t add up. If Margo wanted to check on Megan, why hadn’t she just called?

  “Can I come in?” Margo asked, but Tina’s hand didn’t reach for the bolt lock. Strange things had been happening around Newton the last few weeks and she wasn’t going to take any chances. Although it seemed crazy with the woman standing right before her eyes, Tina had a strange feeling, intuition, maybe, that this wasn’t really Margo Pierce. Tina decided she would call the Pierce house and see if Margo was there. Margo could be a pain in the butt when she didn’t get her way, but Thomas Pierce, Margo’s husband, worked with Tina’s father at the Sabine River Authority office and was one of his closest friends. If Margo decided to get angry about being left in the cold a few more minutes, maybe Thomas could help smooth things over.

  “Tina?” Margo asked impatiently.

  “Mrs. Pearce, I’m probably being an overprotective biddy, but I’m going to call Thomas, and, well ... I’ll explain later.”

  “Tina, it’s freezing out here,” Margo said sharply

  Just then Megan came bounding down the hallway. “Is it Mom?” The other four girls were right behind her, but stayed in the hallway.

  Tina turned around, “Megan ...” was all Tina got out before a clawed hand crashed through the window in the door and grabbed her around the neck. The claws sank into her flesh as the hand tightened its grip. One of the claws severed Tina’s throat and windpipe, causing Tina’s attempts at screaming to turn from m
uffled cries to sickening gurgles. As the claws buried deeper into her neck, one of them severed a carotid artery, causing dark crimson blood to pump out of the terrible wound.

  The four girls in the hall screamed in unison and fled to Lisa’s room. Megan stood part of the way across the living room staring blankly at the gory scene, her mind numbed in shock.

  Tina was dying fast, but she wasn’t quite gone. Her eyes met with Megan’s and she managed to mouth the word “run.”

  Megan snapped out of her trance and screamed. She turned and fled down the hall, stopping at Lisa’s room. Inside she could hear the other girls screaming. The door was locked. Megan was still panicking. She didn’t think about going into Tina’s room, which was only a few steps further down the hall, and locking the door. Instead, she stayed in front of the door to Lisa’s bedroom, banging on the door and screaming to be let in.

  Outside, the beast had released its grip on Tina and was now repeatedly slamming its body into the front door, but it was an old solid oak door and was holding up. Finally, after the beast slammed into the door a fifth time, the hinges gave way. When the door fell, the beast’s momentum sent it to stumbling to the floor. It quickly regained its feet and lurched toward the hall.

  Megan was facing down the hall when the thing that looked like her mother started down the hall running on all fours. Once again caught in the coils of terror, Megan stood motionless, like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming car. Her mouth opened slightly in a half-hearted attempt to scream, which only came out as a squeak that would have been hard to hear even if there weren’t four girls in the room next to her screaming away and a monster-mom-thing grunting loudly as it ran toward her.

  Just as the beast was preparing to pounce, the door to Lisa’s room opened. Crystal’s hand darted out, grabbed a fistful of Megan’s ponytail and jerked her through the door.

  The beast leaped, but caught nothing but air. Its momentum caused it to pass Lisa’s room. As it landed the beast’s claws tried to grab the hardwood floor, causing long, deep grooves in the wood as it slid along. It stopped and returned to the door to Lisa’s room which was now once again shut and locked.

  Since the beginning of time old men have voiced the opinion that things just aren’t made like they used to be. What happened next would give great credence to their argument. The beast slammed into Lisa’s door, but it didn’t give. Apparently, when this house was built — back in 1932 — even the inside doors had been made of solid wood and were supplied with heavy bolt locks.

  The beast braced itself against the wall across from Lisa’s room and flung itself into the door again. The girls inside screamed and cried, but the door continued to hold. Over and over, the beast launched itself into the door. With every blow, the screaming inside the room would take on a louder and more frantic tone. The lock and the hinges on the door were holding, but soon a popping sound was heard and a large crack could be seen running from the top of the door almost halfway down. The girls screamed. Another blow was landed, followed by a cracking sound. The crack lengthened past the halfway point. The girls’ screams reached a new level and remained there.

  Just before the beast landed its next blow on the door, Shelly cried out, “Look!”

  The other four girls stopped screaming and turned toward the window. They could see red and blue flashing lights reflecting on the trees in their front yard.

  The beast landed another blow, and the crack increased in size until it was fully three-quarters of the length of the door.

  The girls started screaming again.

  In the hall, the beast had been so busy working on the door it didn’t hear Darren Woolford come through the front door. Darren could hear the screaming coming from the hall and started in that direction. When he came around the corner and started down the dark hall, he found himself almost face to face with the dark shape. Luckily, the beast was just as startled as he was. Instead of launching itself into Darren while he was unprepared, the beast turned and fled into Tina’s room.

  Darren raised his gun and fired, but it was too late. He heard a crash in the bedroom as the beast leaped through a window and disappeared into the darkness.

  Chapter 18

  Jana Parish Reporting

  Jana Parish’s assignment in Newton certainly hadn’t been the high point of her career. Her efforts to get someone in the Newton County Sheriff’s Department or the Newton Police Department to inform her of developments in the investigation had come to naught, as had her efforts to find out where the autopsies were sent. None of her interviews had been worth the effort; all she was able to get were a few locals telling how they were keeping their shotguns near their beds and the occasional city or county official saying “no comment.” Although rumors and gossip sometimes make the best news, the rumors currently floating around this town were so far fetched she didn’t think even the paper tabloids would touch them. Some said the creature doing all the killing was a rabid mountain lion — and this was one of the more believable tales. Others said it was a deranged serial killer who wore disguises to get people to let him in their houses — and, yes, most of them actually believed he was eating his victims. Dozens of people swore they had seen a creature of some sort, but every one of them said they saw it just as it rounded a corner or disappeared into the woods and could give no description. One man told that her he had seen large human-like tracks that had claws extending from the toes. One little old man spun a yarn about how this thing had gotten in a pen with someone’s hunting dogs at little village called Liberty and killed them all. An elderly black woman even claimed it was the Ku Klux Klan from Vidor doing all the killings, never mind the fact that only one of the five victims had been black. And at least two people shared the belief it was an alien similar to the one that kept chasing Sigourney Weaver around in the movies.

  Alice Pender had proved to be Jana’s only real asset in Newton County, and even this was a mixed blessing. Alice was the source of all of the gossip Jana had heard. It amazed Jana how Alice seemed to be able to hear all of this gossip and believe every single bit of it, even when it contradicted itself. Jana was sure if she asked Alice what she thought was doing the killings, the little old beautician would say it was a rabid mountain lion with a large supply of Halloween costumes, with clawed human feet, that ate dogs, was a card-carrying member of the KKK, and chased Sigourney Weaver around spaceships in its spare time.

  Despite her faults, Alice Pender was still one of the best informants Jana could ask for. The woman lived for gossip and the new spurt of rumors, and, combined with the special attention she was getting from a real live reporter, the current crisis had opened up an entirely new side of Alice. She went from being a simple gossipmonger, to the virtual gossip guru of Newton County. During the day she asked anyone she met if they knew anything new about the killings, and during the night Alice sat by the scanner until she fell asleep in her chair, sometimes as late as four in the morning.

  The phone rang in Jana’s room. Lana looked over at the clock beside the bed: 1:31 a.m. She reached for the phone. “Hullo?” she said groggily.

  “Mrs. Parish!” Alice said on the other line, almost shouting with excitement. “There’s been another killing! They called all cars to Tina Beck’s house and now they’re not talking on the radios.”

  Jana was awake now. She turned on the light and got a pen and paper. “Okay, Alice, tell me where they are.”

  Alice started rattling off the address, but she was chattering too fast for Jana to understand her.

  “Alice!” Jana said sharply. “Slow down, and give me the address.”

  When Jana got the address, she hung up the phone and opened the door into Bob’s room. She walked over to the front door to his room and turned on the lights. “Get up, Bob. We’ve got a lead.”

  * * *

  Jana and Bob were dressed and in their van in no time. Bob drove with one hand while he held Jana’s scribbled directions in the other. Jana put her makeup on using the center
rearview mirror.

  “Will you quit driving like that!” Jana snapped. “How am I supposed to put on my makeup with you swerving and hitting your brakes every two seconds?”

  “Do you want to drive?” Bob shot back.

  The distance from the hotel to the street they were looking for was only a few blocks — in fact the distance from one end of Newton to the other was little more than a few blocks — but Bob had misread Jana’s directions. It was not until they passed the city limits sign on Rusk Street that Bob had figured out they were heading in the wrong direction. Bob was now trying to make up for the time lost by the wrong turn.

  Finally they turned on to Houston Street and could see flashing lights ahead.

  “Bingo,” Bob said, grinning.

  As they pulled up to the scene they could see there were already two ambulances, two county patrol cars, and one city patrol car. There were also about six cars and pickups parked behind these vehicles. An officer was talking to a group of people near the back of one of the patrol cars; the people in the group were making frantic gestures, obviously demanding to be let in the house.

  “Those look like they might be our newest victim’s relatives,” Bob said motioning toward the small crowd. “Let’s see if we can get an interview.” Bob bounded out and got his camera out of the back. With Jana in the lead, they started across the road toward the small crowd where a deputy was having difficulty explaining to the small, frantic crowd that they had to stay away from the scene.

  Jana overheard the deputy tell the people, “The girls are okay. They’ve locked themselves in the room and won’t let us in, but I promise you they are just fine.”

  “Why can’t I see my daughter?” one angry parent shouted.

  “Why did Tom Barrett get to go in?” another called out.