Jessica saw a shadow moving along the dark perimeter of the yard. It was still a distance from the lights that lined the patio wall. From what she could tell, the shadow was curved and had spike-like eminences extending from the bulk of the curve. Its spine, she thought. Those spikes are its vertebrae. God, no wonder the eyewitness accounts said it had spines on its back. The shadow looks like a freaking dinosaur. And then it was gone, back into the darkness on the left side of the patio.
The shadow was there for such a brief time, Jessica thought maybe her eyes were playing tricks on her. Maybe it was just the palo verde tree after all. She was about to whisper to Claire and ask if she saw anything, when the shadow reemerged, slightly closer to the patio. She no longer needed to ask Claire if she saw it, too—Jessica heard a stifled whimper come from the other side of the couch.
The shadow extended further into the light of the patio. It was still just the long curve of its back, with the protruding vertebrae looking like spines. It went along the perimeter of darkness, but did not enter the light. Jessica realized that she wasn’t even sure she remembered what it looked like. She had been so disoriented by fear and exhaustion at the mouth of the canyon, and it had stayed in the shadows and been partially obscured by the branches of a tree. Now it was outside, only feet away from being illuminated by the patio lights.
Jessica could feel her head becoming swimmy from lack of oxygen. She forced herself to take a slow, silent breath through her mouth. She lifted her phone a few inches from the carpet and pointed the lens at the patio, her finger hovering over the red record button.
The shadow hovered on the outskirts of the light. She wondered if it was debating if it should move forward, or if it was figuring out what to knock over next. Or maybe it is listening for you, she thought, and fought the urge to shudder. She didn’t want to move a millimeter more than necessary. The shadow inched further into the light, the bulge of its shoulders now visible. A large, elongated shape extended from the shoulders: its head. It looked around the patio. Dear God, was it looking into the house?
The shadow disappeared back into the darkness, and another thud came from somewhere off to the left. Closer than the first noise, and louder. Jessica wondered what was over there to knock over. In the morning, she thought. We will go take a look at what it was in the morning. The thought was meant to be comforting, but it came out flat and made her feel worse.
More silence followed the second crash and the shadow did not return. After what felt like eons of time, Jessica heard the muffled, barely-there voice of Claire whisper, “Jessica . . . I see it.” It sounded like Claire was on the verge of tears.
“Claire—” Jessica whispered, then stopped. The shadow was back, heading toward the patio. The shadow stretched across the cobblestones, impossibly long in the warm glow. As the creature got closer to the edge of the patio, the shadow shortened—although not nearly as much as Jessica would have liked. It stopped at the edge of the light. Jessica steadied her phone, not realizing that her hand had been shaking, and pressed the Record button.
A timer appeared in the bottom right corner of the phone’s screen, counting the seconds of her recording. Jessica remembered hitting Begin on her QuikFit the first time she went running, and watching the seconds go by on the small screen. She stared at the recording timer on her phone, transfixed by the changing numbers. Something entered the frame of her video and Jessica felt her stomach churn. She looked up from the phone and out the window.
The chupacabra stepped into the light. It was over three feet tall at its shoulders. The shoulders were laced with muscles, which bulged and rippled as they extended down its torso. The muscles looked thick and powerful, like those of a pit bull or a lion. The chupacabra’s hide was dark gray, the skin thick and hairless. Scraggly, dark hairs stuck up from its elbows and haunches. Elongated claws protruded from the hairless flesh of its paws. The claws stuck out like those of a bear, although they were much more curved.
As the chupacabra entered the center of the patio, fully bathed in the glow from the landscape lighting, Jessica could finally make out its facial features. The face was a hideous thing—something that belonged in the pages of horror novels and in the depths of nightmares. Its snout was extended like a dog’s, the muzzle thick and devoid of whiskers, and canine teeth protruded from its jowls. The ears were pointed upward and listening for signs of life in the dark house.
The eyes were the most haunting of all of the chupacabra’s features. Jessica would take the teeth and the claws over those eyes any day. She imagined—if she did live through this—she would see those eyes in her dreams every night until she left this world. The eyes were dull, red, and full of hunger and hate. The red irises shimmered lifelessly in the patio light, resembling a doll’s eyes more than a living thing. Those eyes were hunting, and they were staring directly at her. She bit the inside of her lips, trying to stifle a scream. She tasted copper on the tip of her tongue.
At the taste of blood, Jessica felt a sudden and overwhelming urge to jump up from behind the couch and run for the front door. This was the creature that chased her through the canyon. This was the monster that murdered Cameron Jasper. The thing that set a trap for her, and so many others. And it was looking at her—looking through her. Jessica stared at it, puzzled. It wasn’t looking at her; it was looking at its own reflection in the window. The lights outside were reflected in the glass, and the thing was discerning if its own reflection was a threat. A wave of relief washed over her.
The chupacabra turned to a patio chair, grabbed it in its paws, and flung the chair across the yard. The metal chair flew across the patio as if it was made of nothing but plastic and feathers. The crash the chair made as it hit the stucco wall made Jessica jump. She dropped the phone on the carpet and quickly looked down to retrieve it. She brought the phone up, looking into the screen to center it on the chupacabra, and saw that it wasn’t there. She looked up, startled. Where had it gone?
Jessica could hear herself hyperventilating, and willed herself to breathe slower. As she regained control of her breathing, she heard a muffled sound on the other side of the couch. It was Claire. She was crying, and from the sounds of it, trying to get herself under control. The soft sobs broke Jessica’s heart, and she wished that she had never brought Claire along. She wished that she had gone on this dangerous errand alone. Claire didn’t deserve to be put into this situation, especially not by her best friend.
“Claire,” Jessica whispered, “where did it go?”
Soft sobs from the other side of the couch. “I want to go home,” she whispered through her sniffles.
“Claire—”
“It’s waiting for us. It threw the chair, then ran into the dark to wait.” Claire took a deep breath. Her sobs softened and came to a stop. “It’s waiting for us to go outside.”
“Ok, keep taking pictures. And stay quiet,” Jessica whispered, more to herself than to Claire.
They lay in silence, surrounded by darkness except for the glow of the patio and the moonlight filtering down from the skylights. Within a couple minutes, the chupacabra returned, grabbed the metal fire pit, and dumped it on its side. Coals tumbled out onto the cobblestones. Its red eyes looked up at the dark wall of windows again, scanned it for movement, and then it ran back into the shadows. It moved with a litheness that seemed unnatural for an animal of its size and build. Although, nothing seemed natural at this moment—not anymore.
The seconds ticked by on Jessica’s phone recorder, turning into minutes. Her QuikFit glowed dimly in the moonlight. Her heart rate was 164. Just breathe. Just breathe in and out and it will go away soon. You’re going to have a freaking heart attack.
The chupacabra returned, its feet scattering the coals from the fire pit. It tossed the patio couch next, sending it toward the glass wall. Jessica held her breath and waited for the couch to collide with the window, shattering it and removing the barrier between them. The couch stopped just short of the window, lying on its side with i
ts cushions torn. It’s getting angry, she thought. It’s mad that no one is coming outside.
It didn’t leave the patio this time. Instead of running for the shadows to lie in wait, the chupacabra stood next to the fallen fire pit, its features grotesquely illuminated in the patio lights. The red eyes stared at the window, watching. Jessica was sure it couldn’t see them, not with the landscape lights reflected in the glass. Yet there it stood—a muscular pile of gray flesh, curved claws, and horribly long incisors. What is it doing? she thought, fear rising in her belly. The carpeting felt like sandpaper against her stomach. What the hell is it doing?
Claire whispered from the other side of the couch, “Jessica . . . why isn’t it leaving?”
Jessica watched, fascinated. She had no idea what it was doing, standing there and staring at the window like that. It made no move to advance, but it also made no move to retreat. “I don’t know, Claire. Maybe it’s deciding if it’s time to leave?”
She watched the chupacabra lift its chin into the humid night air. The chin went from side to side, its neck stretched out. The chin seemed to be searching for something. Not its chin, she thought. It’s not searching with its chin . . . it's searching with its nose. Jessica felt dangerously close to her bladder letting go. She stared at the creature in front of her with dawning horror. It can smell us.
Jessica frantically searched the wall of glass for possible openings. Other than an oversized sliding glass door—which was closed—there were no windows that could be opened. But how the hell is it able to smell us? Those are dual-pane windows for Christ’s sake. She looked toward the kitchen, and her heart sank. When they came in she had briefly scanned the dark kitchen. She noticed that the sliding glass window over the sink was shut, and didn’t give it another thought. It was the light that mattered anyway. What she failed to notice in the dark was the long, narrow jalousie window that was positioned above the sliding window. Probably to let smoke and steam out when you’re cooking, she thought. If it’s hot outside and you don’t want to open the whole big window, you just open the small slat one instead to let the smoke out. And with the monsoons, Cameron might have opened just that one small window to smell the rain, but not the big one over the sink because then the rain would get inside. Jessica stared at the jalousie window with crushing dismay. There were only three horizontal panes of glass, but they were all open.
She turned her attention back to the patio. The chupacabra lowered its chin and stared straight ahead at the wall of glass. Jessica thought: It knows. It knows we’re here. She said, “I’m so sorry, Claire. I didn’t know.”
“Didn’t know what?” Claire whispered, sounding panicky.
“It doesn’t use the indoor lights to hunt with. It doesn’t use the lights at all. I was wrong.” Jessica felt tears stinging at her eyes. She watched the chupacabra—motionless on the patio and staring straight ahead. Staring at us, because it knows we’re inside.
“Jessica, what the fuck are you saying?”
“It hunts by smell, Claire. I should have known. God, I’m so sorry.”
“Jess—”
“It lives and hunts in the dark. Jesus, how could I be so stupid. It doesn’t rely on its vision to hunt—the lights mean nothing. To find its prey it relies on its hearing . . . and on its smell.” Jessica paused. Claire said nothing, waiting. “There’s an open window in the kitchen, Claire. It’s a small one—I didn’t notice it in the dark.”
Claire gasped, louder than Jessica would have liked. She supposed it didn’t matter if they made noise, though—not anymore. It knew they were there. The chupacabra hadn’t moved from its position on the patio since it smelled the air. It stood there like a statue, staring at the window. Like one of those Anubis guards in Egypt, Jessica thought.
“We have to get out of here,” Jessica whispered.
“No shit,” Claire whispered back.
All Jessica could think of was getting to the front door and to not stop running until she was either tackled or she got inside the car. If she distracted it from Claire at least that would be something—maybe Claire could manage to get away. Right as Jessica pressed herself up from the floor, the chupacabra darted to the left and out of the light. Jessica stopped mid-push and scanned the patio rapidly from side to side. Where the hell did it go now?
Claire was already up from her side of the couch. She crouched beside Jessica and began tugging at her arm. “Jessica—”
Jessica continued to scan the empty patio, ignoring Claire’s urgent tugging. She pushed herself up to her hands and knees. “Where the hell did it go?” she asked.
Claire’s head jerked up to look at the patio, unaware that the chupacabra had left its sentinel position by the fire pit. Both girls looked out at the patio, searching.
“Maybe it decided to go after all,” Claire said hopefully.
The landscape lighting cut out, and Cameron Jasper’s patio was submerged into overwhelming darkness.
Chapter 52
Moser hurtled down Orion Street. His speedometer read seventy-eight and he didn’t suspect that it was malfunctioning. Wasp Canyon Road was a mile up ahead.
Moser wasn’t a spiritual man, nor was he one to believe in palm reading or premonitions. Something, however, had started to claw at him—a deep ache in his belly that stretched into his chest and wrapped its talons around his heart. A horrible sense of dread had come over him that he was almost out of time.
He spent too much time weighing his options, too long debating what was the right thing to do. He knew what was right all along, but he refused to give into it until it was almost too late. He spent so long deciding if he was brave enough to go that now it might be too late for it to even matter. He had finally chosen to face his demons, and that demon might escape him before he even got a chance to vanquish it. And it might do so much more than just escape.
The intersection of Wasp Canyon Road came into view. As he hastily made the turn he saw burnt rubber was already smeared across the intersection. Someone else had come this way, and they were also in a hurry. It had come from her. He knew it in his gut. Jessica Cleary was at Jasper’s house, and she had gone there in a hurry. He wondered if she had gone alone. He wondered if she was alone with it right now. Or if it was alone in the house, having killed her and now waiting for him. The scar tissue across his left shoulder throbbed. Moser flipped on his high beams, and made his way up Wasp Canyon Road.
Chapter 53
Jessica’s hope of them both making it to the safety of the car died along with the lights. “We have to go.” She tried to stand up, but Claire yanked her back down.
“What are you doing? It will see you!”
“It’s not over there anymore, Claire,” Jessica said. “It ran off and killed the lights. Besides, it already knows we’re here.” Jessica reached down, took Claire’s hand, and pulled her up. “We have to get the fuck out of here.”
“Isn’t it safer to stay inside?”
“We both know it’s capable of getting inside houses,” Jessica said. “It’s done it before.”
“Yeah, ok,” Claire said. “Which way? What do we do?”
“God, this is a long shot, but let’s try to make it for the car. It’s probably still out back somewhere. And if it gets in here, we’re dead.”
Claire groaned, jumped up and down a couple times to limber herself up, then nodded. “I didn’t park that far away from the door,” she whispered. “Maybe we can make it.”
“Or at least one of us can,” Jessica said, grabbing Claire’s hand and heading through the dark living room toward the front door.
Claire jerked her hand away, making Jessica stop partway up the living room steps. “No way. No way. We’re both getting out of here,” Claire insisted. She grasped Jessica’s hand again and squeezed it tightly.
“I got you into this, Claire, and I’m getting you out. Now come on.” Jessica tugged on Claire’s hand, and they ascended the remaining steps into the foyer.
Jessica’s boot
stepped off of the carpeting and onto the marble floor. It made a loud clunk. Just great, she thought. I’m getting stalked by a monster hell beast that hunts by sound and smell and every time I take a step it makes a loud clunking noise. If she hadn’t known any better, she would have thought the chupacabra planned it this way all along—it makes you feel like you really got away, and then it gets you, once and for all. They made their way to the front door, Claire’s footsteps silent and Jessica’s clunking with each left step.
They stopped at the front door. Jessica pressed her hand against the heavy wood door and said a silent prayer before reaching for the lock to release the deadbolt. Daddy, it’s Jess. Please help me to get Claire out of this mess.
She reached for the lock, and just as her fingers touched the metal latch, a heavy, splintering crash rippled through the thick wood. Claire screamed. Jessica stumbled back, pulling her hand away from the door as if she had touched fire. Another blow slammed into the front door, and then a third. Jessica could hear wood cracking, but the door held. She remembered the decorative metalwork that adorned the outside of the door. The metal must be keeping the door from breaking apart, she thought. There was a fourth, final blow, and then silence. Jessica and Claire stood in the dark foyer, clutching each other.
When another blow didn’t come, Jessica reached for the door lock. Claire grasped at her with wild hands. “What are you doing? You’re going to open the fucking door?” she cried.
“The door’s bent inward.” Jessica pointed at the double doors. “I think it busted the lock. What if the door just swings open when we aren’t looking?” Claire loosened her grasp, but not entirely. Jessica reached out and tried the lock. The deadbolt was still in place, but it now seemed to be stuck. The door would not be swinging open anytime soon—whether they wanted it to or not. If they were going to escape to the car, it was going to have to be a different way.
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