Urban Gothic

by Brian Keene

  ***

  Javier stared down into the darkness for a moment. With the kitchen lights behind him, his night vision was messed up. The basement wasn’t just dark, like the rest of the house. It was pitch-black. He doubted that even their cell phones would pierce the darkness. He sniffed the air, trying to identify the repulsive stench wafting up on the slight breeze. It wasn’t rot or putrefaction or sewage, but it was similar. Maybe a combination of all three? Finally, he gestured with his left hand and started down the stairs, urging silence with a backward glance.

  As if in mockery of him, they heard distant, thudding footsteps—Noigel’s unmistakable tread. At first, Javier thought the giant must be below them, climbing up the stairs toward them, but then he realized that the footfalls were actually coming from the corridor on the other side of the kitchen door.

  “Hurry,” he whispered, taking the stairs faster.

  He heard Kerri shut the door behind them, and the stairwell turned even blacker. Brett or Heather—he couldn’t tell which—stumbled behind him. Javier listened, his head cocked slightly to the side. He didn’t hear the footsteps anymore, but wasn’t sure if that was because the door was shut or because Noigel had stopped. Gripping the belt with one hand and trailing his other hand along the wall, Javier continued down the darkened staircase, moving as carefully as possible without sacrificing his speed. The others stumbled along behind him. He held his breath, certain that Noigel would hear them and come charging along in pursuit. The stairs were old and narrow and half of them sagged under his footsteps as if they were ready to collapse. Still, he continued without hesitation. It was only when they’d finished their descent that Javier allowed himself to breathe.

  “Everybody huddle together,” he whispered, so low that he was unsure whether they’d heard him until he felt their hands reaching out to brush against him.

  “Are we all here?” Kerri asked.

  “I am,” Heather said. “Brett?”

  “Yeah, I’m here.”

  Javier frowned. There was something in Brett’s voice—pain, certainly, but something else beneath it. “You holding up okay?”

  “No,” Brett sighed. “My hand is starting to hurt like a bitch. I mean, worse than it was—and that’s a lot.”

  “Just hang in there a little bit longer.”

  “I don’t hear him up there,” Kerri said. “Do you guys think he stopped?”

  “Maybe,” Javier admitted. “Who knows what the fuck the crazy bastard is doing? Maybe he’s searching somewhere other than the kitchen. Let’s put some distance between us and him, before he comes back.”

  Javier reached into his pocket for his cell phone and then remembered that he’d lost it in the pit. He asked Brett for his instead. Brett passed it up the line, groping in the darkness. Javier flipped it open and used the weak light to look around. His spirits soared when he spotted a dusty, cobweb-covered, antique oil lamp hanging from a rusty nail in one of the cellar’s wooden support beams. His enthusiasm quickly dissipated when he realized there was neither a wick nor oil to be found anywhere in the basement. Indeed, the sublevel was as empty as the rooms above, save for a pile of rotting burlap sacks, a heap of broken masonry, a few glass bottles, and some moldering cardboard boxes. The cell phone’s light did little to penetrate the shadowed corners, but he was certain they’d be empty, as well. He wondered how the spiders and other insects lived in such a desolate place. It was just proof that life could exist anywhere, even in a location as dismal as this.

  “How the hell are we supposed to find our way around down here?” Heather’s voice had an edge of despair. “I can’t see shit. It’s worse than upstairs.”

  Javier shrugged, knowing full well that she couldn’t see the gesture. “Let’s just find a way out, okay? Before anything else can happen.”

  Kerri made an agreeable grunt and Brett stayed quiet.

  “I know it’s dark, but maybe we’d better use one phone. That way we can save the batteries in the others, just in case.”

  They murmured their displeasure, but did as he said.

  Javier took Heather’s hand and settled it on the back of his jeans. “Hold on to me. Don’t let go for any reason. We don’t want to get separated down here.”

  She hooked one finger through a belt loop, and then, while Javier held up the light to guide them, Heather found Kerri’s hand and placed it on her pants. Then Kerri did the same with Brett. His wounded hand hung limp by his side. A moment later they were moving again. Javier led them through the darkness, taking small, measured steps with only the cell phone’s dim glow to guide him. Brett’s belt dangled from his hand, the buckle smacking silently against his leg with each step. He felt Heather tug at his pants as they walked slowly forward, and it brought to mind another time she’d done that. A year before, the six of them had driven out to York County for a night so that they could attend a Halloween haunted attraction in LeHorn’s Hollow. Everyone at school had been talking about it since the ghost walk had first been announced, and they’d arrived with eager anticipation. They’d been standing in line waiting to buy tickets and Heather had hooked her index finger through his belt loop and pulled him to her suddenly, kissing him deep and earnestly. The suddenness had surprised and excited him. Sadly, their evening had been cut short when some kind of riot ensued inside the ghost walk. A bunch of people died. The police and the firemen arrived, and it was shut down. They’d driven back to East Petersburg, frustrated and bored. But not Javier. On the way home, he’d sat in the backseat of Tyler’s brother’s car, smiling, one arm around Heather, pulling her close, the kiss still lingering like an echo in his mind. It was a memory that Javier returned to often—and fondly. He held on to it now, as well, and it was enough to keep him going. As they crept forward, she came close enough a few times that he felt her breath on the back of his neck. It was warm in contrast to the unseen breeze that blew through the dark space. Javier just wished he could find the source of that breeze, because he was willing to bet he’d also find their escape route.

  Still listening intently for any indication that Noigel was on their trail, he held the phone higher, trying to see. The darkness wasn’t complete, but it was close enough. Javier kept his eyes wide and his attention focused ahead of him and used his right hand to feel along the cold, damp basement wall. His fingers trailed over cracks and crevices and tore through cobwebs. He ran into a corner and felt along it for a moment before deciding to go to the left. It made sense, as he was fairly certain the street was in that direction. Hopefully, so was the exterior wall of the house and maybe a set of storm doors or even a sewer entrance. It occurred to him that an old place like this might even have a coal bin or root cellar attached to the basement, points of access that had been necessary in the past. He just hoped that the freaks who lived here hadn’t blocked them up. There had to be another way out down here. Brett had overheard them say it, and it made sense. The things living here couldn’t very well stroll out the front door—not without everyone seeing them. There had to be a hidden exit.

  But he wasn’t having much luck finding it.

  “Shit happens,” he murmured, reciting his mantra but not thinking the others could hear him.

  “Yes,” Kerri responded. “It does. And tonight, it’s happened to us.”

  Javier was about to reply when the wall opened up unexpectedly. He stopped. The slight breeze grew stronger as it flowed from the opening. It held a musky scent, age and mildew and something else that he couldn’t easily identify. He felt along the edge of the opening and realized that he might have found exactly what he was looking for. Holding the cell phone high, Javier stepped forward and felt for the wall ahead of him. The wooden boards disappeared, replaced with a hard, packed clay surface.

  “What the hell?” he spoke softly, but his voice carried more than he’d expected. Chastising himself for doing exactly what he’d gotten on Heather about, he reached out and touched the spot, seeking any indication that the change might indicate a broken section
of wall or an exit. The breeze gusted against his face. Heather pushed closer to him. Her breasts slipped along his back and her hands moved up to touch his shoulders. Had he been facing her, they’d have been close enough to kiss.

  “Sorry.” Heather’s voice was a sighed whisper. Her body turned sharply and her voice grew a note sharper.

  “Watch it!”

  Kerri’s voice was louder, even sharper. “I can’t. Brett’s wobbling back here. You okay?”

  “Sorry,” Brett apologized. His voice was slurred. He sounded tired. “Lost my balance.”

  Javier shook his head, pressing his lips together in irritation. He was about to remind them to whisper when a new noise came from somewhere far ahead of them, deep in the darkness—a long, warbling howl, a sound that made as much sense in the basement of a crumbling, inner-city Victorian home as cannon fire in a confessional. The howl didn’t sound like a wolf, but more like a human throat doing a poor imitation.

  Javier froze, his heart pounding in his chest. He felt Heather jerk upright behind him, clinging tighter to his shoulders. Shrugging her off as gently but firmly as possible, he listened intently, trying to guess at the distance or even a general location of the cries. At a guess, the howls came from at least a hundred feet away and directly ahead of them.

  “What the hell was that?” Brett’s slurred voice was terrified. The echoes rang through the basement.

  Javier flinched again. “Everyone shut up.”

  He listened to the still-reverberating echoes. They told him more than the howl had. There was some kind of tunnel directly ahead of them—a long tunnel, judging by the sound. Javier frowned, wondering why such a thing would be in a basement. Before he could tell the others his suspicion, another wail pierced the darkness, twice as loud as before.

  And closer. Much closer.

  It was followed by another cry. This one had a different pitch and inflection.

  And then another sounded out.

  And another.

  There were at least five different voices in the darkness.

  Javier closed his eyes. His skin prickled. The air blowing out of the wall turned foul.

  Behind them, they heard the basement door open. The darkness lessened, cut into by the kitchen lights from above. Then the all-too-familiar heavy footsteps thundered down the stairs. Noigel voiced his garbled cry, joining the others.

  “Oh shit,” Heather moaned. “We are so fucked.”

  ***

  Brett had allowed himself to be distracted by the feel of Kerri in front of him. Yes, it was wrong. He knew that. Especially when his girlfriend and her boyfriend were dead, murdered, their corpses lost somewhere inside this hellhole. But thinking about her body, feeling the way her hips swayed against his hand with every step was taking his mind away from the throbbing pain shooting up his arm and throughout his body. He’d just bumped against her ass—and it had been an accident, but a nice one—and was apologizing when the first howl erupted from the darkness.

  Suddenly he needed to pee very badly. The pressure in his bladder almost overrode the pain surging from the stumps of his severed fingers.

  Although he hadn’t told the others, Brett was having trouble with his vision. He could see, but everything was a faded monochrome, a dusky black and white that leeched away all details and colors. Part of it was his injuries, he knew, as well as the deep sensation of lethargy and exhaustion that had overcome him since escaping the hallway. The almost complete darkness in the basement was another contributing factor. He didn’t like Javier’s idea about using only one cell phone, but he silently went along with it just like the girls, because Javier had obviously taken charge. Brett didn’t care. Let him. Logic was helpful on a chessboard, but in this house, it was a wasted effort. Nothing about this place was logical.

  His eyes had finally adjusted as much as they were likely to, when the door crashed open behind them and the kitchen lights shined down the stairs. Standing at the rear of the group and closest to the stairs, Brett was momentarily blinded as his eyes struggled to cope with the sudden change. He listened to the footsteps and to the strange and terrible howls coming from both in front of and behind them, and did his best not to scream.

  “What do we do?” Heather yelled, her voice frantic. “Javier?”

  If he heard her, he gave no indication. Javier was silent, seemingly paralyzed by fear and indecision.

  Our fearless leader is out to lunch, Brett thought. And Heather’s right. We are so fucked.

  Logic dictated that they run, but where? Even as the howls drew closer, the footsteps behind them increased in speed. The staircase sounded like it was shaking. Kerri said something, but Brett couldn’t hear her over the intensifying cacophony. She turned around and faced him, her eyes nothing more than two wide smudges in her shadowy face. Her hand settled on his chest for a moment. She clutched a fistful of his shirt and sobbed. Brett nodded his head, realizing what had to be done. His fear evaporated as he embraced the inevitable. This was no more difficult than solving a trigonometry problem.

  Kerri didn’t deserve to be here. She was already suffering enough. He could see it in her, how ruined she was by Tyler’s death and Stephanie’s, too. His face flushed red with anger. Kerri was a wonderful, sweet girl, and he didn’t want to see her hurt any more. She was a little bitty thing, and until today, he’d have thought her too small to defend herself. She’d proven that wrong, of course, going up against the thing that had bitten off his fingers. During that struggle, Brett had caught a glimpse of the strength inside Kerri, roiling beneath the surface. Such strength deserved to live on. She had too much yet to offer the world. She couldn’t die in this shit pile. Therefore, someone needed to give her—and the others—a chance to escape. That someone was him. It was logical, after all. He was severely wounded, in shock, and had lost a lot of blood. There was no telling how many different infections he’d picked up already, and the chances of reaching a hospital were getting slimmer with each passing second.

  It had to be him.

  Check and checkmate.

  All of this went through his mind in seconds. Brett didn’t say it aloud, of course. Kerri, Javier, and Heather wouldn’t have been able to hear him even if he had told them. The strange sense of calm deepened as he prepared himself. The pain racking his body went away, turning into nothing more than a distant hum, like the drone of a gnat hovering around his face, too small to bother with, more of an annoyance than anything else.

  Noigel’s footsteps plodded across the basement floor, each one reverberating like a shotgun blast. Brett turned to face him and immediately wished he hadn’t. For one split second, his resolve almost shattered. Noigel was a massive shadow amidst the darkness. He seemed to glide toward them. Brett could make out the huge hammer clutched in one hand. Other than his footsteps, the giant moved silently. He made no more cries or howls. Brett couldn’t even hear his breathing. Steeling himself, Brett stood his ground and risked a glance behind them. Several humanoid shapes emerged from the darkness. Unlike Noigel, they weren’t silent. If anything, their frenzied howls increased as they drew closer. In the dim light of Javier’s cell phone, Brett couldn’t make out much about them, except that they varied in size and shape. Some were of normal height and weight. Others were diminutive in stature, like the thing that had attacked him. A few were tall like Noigel, but thin and scraggly rather than possessing his girth. One seemed obscenely obese, lumbering forward in a see-saw–type motion. All of them shared one common characteristic—even in the darkness, they were brutal looking, predatory rejects that moved in slowly and carefully and with an almost palpable self-assuredness, taking their time and jockeying among one another for position.

  Perhaps it was their appearance that snapped Javier out of his trance, or maybe it was Kerri and Heather’s frantic, pleading screams. Whatever the cause, Brett saw the steely determination return to his expression. Javier snapped the cell phone shut and stuffed it in his pocket. For a second, Brett didn’t understand why,
but then Javier explained.

  “We’re gonna run straight past them,” he said. “There’s a tunnel up ahead. That’s got to be the way out.”

  “Are you fucking crazy?” Heather shrieked.

  “It’s the only way. We’ll run in the dark. They can’t see us if we don’t have a light.”

  Brett shoved Kerri forward with his good hand. “Move! Get away! Get the fuck out of here. I’ll distract them. Run!”

  Kerri jerked with each word as if he’d slapped her. She stared past him, watching Noigel’s approach in the glare from the kitchen lights, her eyes wild and terrified, her lips peeled back in a feral grimace that looked too much like the freaks menacing them.

  Then Noigel laughed. The sound was deep and guttural, and boomed across the basement like artillery blasts.

  Brett’s resolve shattered. Thoughts of logic and sacrifice and heroism fled as he shoved her forward again. He forgot all about Kerri’s hidden and remarkable reserves of bravery and strength. Forgot all about his sympathy for her. He was not a hero. He had never been the sort to consider others before himself. It wasn’t in his nature. He wasn’t truly thinking of Kerri or any of the others as he pushed her forward a third time. He was just trying to get them all moving, because instinct told him to flee, and there was no way he could get through them without falling on his ass. Unable to hold it anymore, his bladder let go, and the front of his pants grew warm and wet.

  Brett was aware of Noigel as the hulk loomed behind him and came to a halt. The madman’s massive form blocked the remaining light. The loathsome stench roiling off him was overpowering, cloying around Brett like a smoke. Brett didn’t turn around. He couldn’t. His feet felt like they were stuck in concrete. He stared straight ahead, watching Kerri’s expression as she looked up and over his shoulder, her eyes impossibly wide, her mouth open to scream but no sound coming out. He watched as the rest of the freaks fell silent, then charged, moving low to the ground and loping toward them en masse. Brett blinked as one of the creatures did the impossible and leapfrogged over the others, diving through the air, narrowly missing the ceiling as it jumped. He sighed as Javier charged forward to meet the attacker, shouting challenges in Spanish. Brett smiled slightly as Heather and Kerri ran.