The Dead Man: Eater of Souls (Kindle Worlds Novella)

by Joseph Nassise

  “Hello? Anyone here?” he called, thinking that if someone had come into the place ahead of him, he or she probably hadn’t gone very far.

  His voice bounced off the walls and echoed around him in the enclosed space but he didn’t hear anyone respond.

  He stepped back into the main hallway, glanced around, and said, a bit louder this time, “I’m going lock that outer door back up, so if you’re in here you’d best come out now.”

  No answer.

  He moved to turn away, intent on getting out of there, when something scuttled past in the darkness ahead of him.

  Matt spun around, shining the light in that direction. “Who’s there?” he called.

  The flashlight revealed tht the hallway was empty.

  Must have imagined it.

  Still, something didn’t feel right and he lingered for a moment as a result.

  On the far side of the lobby were two sets of double doors, which he assumed led to the swimming pool itself. He swung the flashlight over them, considering going in and taking a look around, but the general condition of the place made him reconsider. If the stench was so bad out here, just how much worse would it be in there, where the pool used to be?

  And yet…

  If someone had come into the building, then that was the place they would most likely be, wasn’t it?

  He took a step in that direction and was interrupted by the sound of a horn honking outside, loud and abrasive, making him jump. He shook his head, intending to ignore the sound, but then it came again, except this time whoever was doing the honking kept their hand down on the horn causing it to emit one long, drawn-out note and he had no choice but to go investigate.

  He left the decaying building behind, raced down the path and burst through the trees, only to find Principal Stevens parked outside in a cart identical to his own, her hand jammed down on her horn looking highly irritated.

  “What were you doing in there?” she asked, inclining her head in the direction of the old swimming center.

  The question, and her tone, made Matt feel guilty for some reason he couldn’t identify.

  “I found the door to the swimming center unlocked,” he answered, trying not to sound defensive. He’d been doing what any responsible adult would have done, hadn’t he? “I went inside to make sure there weren’t any kids fooling around inside. I intended to be sure it was locked again behind me.”

  “And?”

  He cocked his head at her. “And what?”

  “Did you find any? Kids? Fooling around?”

  “No, the place seemed to be empty.”

  “Good.” She glanced in the direction of the building and then turned away, the irritation still plain on her face. “Williams must have gone in there for some reason and forgotten to lock it up behind him.”

  Matt was about to ask why she thought it was Williams when she turned to him and said, “Had to be Williams; he’s the only one with the key. At any rate, I want you to lock it up tight again and forget about it. The place should have been torn down years ago.”

  Wasn’t much he could argue with there.

  “Will do,” he told her.

  She pushed the ignition switch, then pointed the same finger in his direction. “When you are done here, there’s a problem over at the administration building. Check in with Olivia Drake when you get there; she’ll tell you what to do.”

  With that, she drove off without another word.

  Shaking his head at the oddness of the entire morning, Matt returned to the swimming center, threaded the chain back through the door handles and then used the lock to secure it in place. He gave the whole assembly a sharp tug to be certain it was seated properly, then turned and made his way back to the where he’d parked the cart.

  As he went, a single question kept turning itself over and over again in his mind.

  If it had been Williams, what had he gone in there for in the first place?

  CHAPTER SIX

  The administration building was on the other side of campus, a ten-minute ride in the cart. He was about halfway there when he came around a bend in the trail and slowed at the sight before him.

  A crowd had gathered in the middle of the path and Matt could hear angry shouts as he drove closer. A few of the students on the edge of the group saw him approaching, but apparently the sight of the custodian didn’t cause any of them alarm the way a member of the faculty probably would have and they turned back to the excitement in front of them.

  That was fine with Matt; he wanted to see what was going on, not chase after a flock of fleeing students.

  He shut down the cart and stood up behind the wheel, which allowed him to look over the heads of the crowd to see what was going on in the center of the circle.

  He didn’t like what he saw.

  Three large boys wearing the red and blue football jackets that proclaimed them to be members of the local jock community were standing over a fourth who could never be mistaken for one of their own.

  The other boy was tall and lean, with hair dyed jet-black and a face full of piercings. His clothes looked like they’d come off a vintage rack in the city, skin-tight rocker jeans and a Billy Idol t-shirt circa 1986, with black engineer’s boots on his feet.

  As Matt watched, the latter scrambled to his feet and faced the trio. He gave no sign that he was particularly worried about being outnumbered; in fact, he was downright defiant in his attitude as he thrust a finger out before him, accusingly.

  “Touch me again and I swear I’ll make you regret the day you ever laid eyes on me!”

  The leader of the trio, a tall blonde-haired linebacker type who was six-two and two hundred and fifty pounds, if he was anything, threw back his head and laughed.

  “I already regret the day I laid eyes on you, idiot!” he said, getting a chuckle out of the audience surrounding the foursome. “There’s no way I’m going to spend the next year looking at your sorry mug either. That’s why I’m going to kick your ass every day until you transfer somewhere else.”

  Blondie looked back at his cronies, getting nods of encouragement in return. The crowd was starting to egg them on as well, a murmured “Fight, fight, fight” growing louder as the two boys began circling each other.

  Matt had to give Rocker Boy some credit. He was outweighed by at least a hundred pounds and his opponents clearly had the crowd on their side, but he wasn’t going to be anybody’s punching bag. He was going to get his ass kicked, there seemed little doubt about that, but he wasn’t going to just stand by and idly let it happen. He fully intended to dish out some pain of his own before going down for the count.

  Time to end this before someone gets hurt, Matt thought.

  Matt hopped down from the electric cart, grabbed his axe from the back, and waded into the crowd. The sight of him and his axe silenced any of those who intended to protest as he shoved his way into the circle and it only took a moment for Matt to make his way to the front.

  He was just in time to see Blondie land a haymaker to Rocker Boy’s jaw, sending him staggering back several feet. But rather than move in and take advantage of his opponent’s momentary incapacitation, he turned and raised his hands to the crowd, basking in their cries of encouragement.

  Big mistake.

  Rocker Boy was no one’s bitch, apparently, and he stepped forward without hesitation and kicked Blondie square in the nuts with those engineer’s boots of his. The football player went down like a wet sack of cement.

  Silence fell over the crowd; Matt could see that the onlookers were as stunned that Rocker Boy had landed a blow against their chosen champion as Blondie himself was. That silence grew deeper when Rocker Boy stalked forward and began shouting at the boy on the ground, punctuating each word with a savage kick from those heavy boots of his.

  “I. Will. Fucking. Kill. You. If. You…”

  Matt had seen enough. He walked over and interposed himself between Rocker Boy and his assailant-turned-victim.

  “That’s enough
!” he said sharply, keeping the axe up over his shoulder in plain view and holding out his other arm toward the enraged youth in front of him in a stop gesture.

  Rocker Boy charged forward, intent on reaching his attacker no matter what, and Matt was forced to drop a shoulder into the boy’s chest as he rushed in, knocking the wind out of him.

  The youth stumbled backward and went down on one knee, trying to get a breath into his stunned diaphragm, but not having much luck.

  The crowd was quiet, all eyes on Matt at this point, and he didn’t waste any time in dispersing them before something worse happened.

  “Get out of here!” he shouted, “All of ya, before I call Principal Stevens.”

  That sent them scattering like frightened rabbits and Matt almost laughed to see it. Apparently he wasn’t the only one who found the lady intimidating.

  Blondie was trying to push himself up with his hands, and failing, while his buddies looked on in indecision. Matt pointed at them and then at the downed student. “Get him out of here before I report you all.”

  They hustled to do just that.

  Satisfied that Blondie and the other instigators had been dealt with, Matt turned to Rocker Boy.

  The youth had managed to get his breathing under control and was climbing painfully to his feet, his wary gaze on Matt.

  “Who the fuck are you?” the youth asked.

  Nice.

  “My name’s Matt. I’m the new janitor,” he said, pointing to his blue jumpsuit. “You all right?”

  “What the hell do you care?” the boy asked.

  Matt shrugged. “I don’t like seeing anyone getting their ass kicked.”

  “I can take care of myself!”

  After what he’d just seen, Matt didn’t doubt that he could handle himself against a single assailant, but he highly doubted the others would restrict themselves to such.

  “Sure, you were doing fine. But what would have happened when Blondie’s two friends joined the fun? Think you could have held your own against three of them?”

  Rocker Boy didn’t say anything.

  “What’s your name?”

  This time the response was nearly immediate. “Why? So you can turn me in for fighting?”

  Matt laughed; he couldn’t help it. “You’re tough, but not so smart, I guess. Would I have let the other three go if I was going to turn you in? Now what’s your name?”

  Grudgingly. “David.”

  “Okay, David. Let me give you a word of advice. You embarrassed those gorillas in front of all those other students and that’s not going sit well with them. They’re going want payback. If I were you, I wouldn’t wander around on your own for a few days.”

  David glared at him. “You have no fuckin’ idea what’s going on around here, do you? Open your eyes, Tool Man, before you have an accident of your own, just like Williams did.”

  Our regular man is out with a back injury…

  “What are you talking about?” Matt asked, Stevens’ words still ringing in his head. “Hal injured his back.”

  David’s glare was full of scorn as he said, “You really don’t have a clue, do you? Wake up, man, before you end up in a boatload of hurt.”

  Without another word, he turned and walked away, leaving Matt standing there in the middle of the trail, wondering just what the hell David was talking about.

  He was going to call after the kid, get him to explain what he meant, but the radio on his belt chose that moment to squawk at him in Stevens’ voice. She was wondering what was taking him so long to deal with the situation over by the library, and he had no choice but to file the kid’s comments away until later.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Olivia Drake turned out to be a good-looking brunette in her mid-thirties, with shoulder-length brown hair and a trim figure that was nicely highlighted by the grey pantsuit and high heels she was wearing. She was standing there, chewing on the stem of her eyeglasses with one arm crossed beneath the other and a foot tapping in exasperation when Matt walked up.

  The sight of her standing there like that, all hot and obviously bothered, caused every schoolboy fantasy he’d ever had to flash through his head while Van Halen’s Hot For Teacher blared like a soundtrack in the back of his mind. It was so distracting that he didn’t realize she was speaking to him for a good ten seconds.

  “I’m sorry, can you repeat that?” he said finally, when she realized she was looking at him in expectation for an answer to whatever it was that she’d asked.

  One eyebrow dipped in annoyance. “I asked if you were the new custodian.”

  He nodded, then plucked at his blue jumpsuit. “Custodian, yes, that’s me.”

  Smooth move there, Casanova, real smooth.

  He put out his hand. “Matt Cahill.”

  “Olivia Drake,” she replied, shaking it once, perfunctorily.

  Right.

  “What seems to be the problem?”

  “There’s a raccoon in my office.”

  He’d expected some damaged pipes, maybe an errant tree limb. But a raccoon?

  “Seriously?”

  “Yes, seriously. Do I look like the kind of person who would make something like that up?”

  Uh, no. Not even as a joke.

  Recognizing a rhetorical question when he heard one, Matt chose prudence over valor and wisely didn’t reply. Instead, he simply said, “Show me please.”

  She was right. It was a raccoon. A damned big one, too. It sat tucked away on one of the shelves in her office, shelves it had conveniently cleared of the books that had once been there. In fact, given the condition of the room, it looked like the fat little joker had given her a run for her money when she’d tried to chase him down herself.

  “Is this going to take long?” she asked, glancing pointedly at her watch as she did so.

  Matt looked at the raccoon. The raccoon looked at Matt.

  “Probably,” he said, having noted the challenge in the furry guy’s eyes. He’d found a nice warm spot away from the crazy weather and didn’t look like he was going to be leaving any time soon. “You might want to grab some lunch while you wait.”

  In the end, it was easier than Matt anticipated. He’d noted several no-harm traps in the supply room earlier so he retrieved two of them and put them in the room, baited with half an apple with one side covered in peanut butter. When he checked half an hour later, the raccoon was sitting contentedly in the trap, munching on his treat. After that it was a matter of taking him out to the woods, freeing him, and then returning to repair the broken window through which he had climbed earlier.

  With the raccoon taken care of, Matt returned to the office and was in the middle of restacking books on the shelves when Olivia returned.

  “Is it safe?” she asked, glancing around.

  Matt nodded. “Trapped without injury and returned to his natural habitat,” he said with a smile.

  If he thought it was going to win him some points, he was sadly mistaken. “I meant the room, not the raccoon,” she replied, the unspoken ‘you idiot’ perfectly clear in her tone. “Shit, I wouldn’t have cared if you’d shot the furry little bugger. I just wanted him out of here.”

  Matt kept his smile, though this time it was a little strained.

  “I’ll just finish with these books and get out of your way,” he said, as he lifted another stack back into its rightful place.

  Olivia looked like she was about to respond when the door to the office opened and Principal Stevens came in, ushering a teenager ahead of her. It was the same dark-haired boy that Matt had run into earlier, David something-or-other.

  Olivia frowned at the sight.

  “Last I checked Mr. Bateman didn’t require an escort to be able to find my office,” she told the administrator.

  “He does when he’s been caught fighting again, Ms. Drake.”

  As the youth stepped into the room, Matt caught sight of the shiner just starting to grace David’s right eye.

  Damn, he thought, that�
�s one unpopular kid.

  And a prime candidate for someone ready to blow as gasket at the rest of the student body.

  David glared at the principal. “I wasn’t fighting; I was defending myself. Not that I expect YOU to know the difference.”

  Matt tensed; for a minute it looked like the kid was going to physically lash out at the woman, but then he just threw his hands up in exasperation and flopped down in one of the chairs next to the door.

  Stevens opened her mouth to reply, but Olivia beat her to the punch. “I’d be happy to hear your side of it in session, David,” she said, addressing the youth, “but for now, perhaps it would be best if you calmed down.”

  She turned her attention to Stevens. “Thank you for bringing him here,” she said, with a smile that Matt noted never reached her eyes. “I will forward you a copy of my report once I’m finished speaking to him about the incident.”

  The principal didn’t like being dismissed so abruptly, Matt could see that clearly, but something in Olivia’s expression must have warned her off for she chose not to argue with the psychiatrist, she just nodded once and left the room.

  Matt heard David mutter something under his breath but didn’t catch what it was.

  Olivia must have, though, for she shot him a glance that could have frozen a hot spring and he dutifully shut up.

  Shaking her head, she turned and looked at Matt.

  “Are you finished?”

  He nodded. “I am. I don’t think the raccoon will give you too much trouble at this point, but if it does, give me a call and I’ll come on back to take a look.”

  And maybe this time they could get off on better footing.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Later that afternoon Matt was sweeping the hallway in one of the academic buildings when he felt it again, that unmistakable feeling of being watched, just as he had that morning.

  He straightened up and turned around, expecting to see a student or one of the faculty staff, maybe even Stevens coming to check up on him again, but no one was there.