“Do you think Apollo killed that woman?” Joe asks.
“I don’t think it was a squirrel. Let’s keep going.”
They move back into the kitchen, avoiding the dead woman on the floor, and move to the landing. There are four steps going up to the hallway that has an office on the left and the master bedroom at the end. At the top of the steps, another set of carpeted stairs go up again, leading to the two oversized bedrooms upstairs. They move directly down the hall first, finding the small office space empty, other than the usual clutter Mike and Lynn have been slowly collecting in there for years. The bedroom door is open slightly and Dave uses the barrel to push it the rest of the way while Joe covers their backs. Dave checks the room is clear before having Joe enter as he opens the door to the master bathroom and verifies it’s empty.
“I fucking hate this,” Dave whispers, patting his pockets for the cigarettes he left in the car.
“I wish I would have stayed in the car with Mom,” Joe replies.
“Me too,” Dave says, not bothering to explain if he was referring to Joe or himself. “Come on.”
They go back down the hall, turning left up the stairs to search the two bedrooms and the bathroom between them. All three rooms are vacant.
“I thought you said Apollo would hear us by now?” Joe says quietly.
“If he’s in the house, he must have by now. We’re not as loud as a marching band or anything, but we’re talking about a dog’s sense of hearing.”
“Then where the heck is he?” Joe asks.
Dave doesn’t reply as they both feel the dread sink in with the thought of Apollo waiting down in the basement for them, hiding in a dark corner of the catacombs.
“Only the basement’s left,” Dave says, trying to shake the persistent image from his mind.
“Uh-huh,” Joe agrees. “We’re going down there, aren’t we?”
“Like we’ve got a choice,” Dave replies, resigned to the deed.
They double check each room again as they pass them, making certain they haven’t missed any rabid beasts or killer clowns hiding in the closets. At the bottom of the landing, they steel their resolves and move down into the first room of the basement. The recliners are in their usual spots, but one of the end tables has been knocked over, presumably during the Fosters frantic race to escape their loyal Apollo. The lamp that usually sits on the table is on the other side of the room, broken against the wall. Dave wonders if Mike might have tried hitting the dog with it in their scramble to safety. The door leading to the workshop and the other storage rooms is wide open, but all the lights are off back there, and the dark void is silent.
“It’s pretty quiet down there,” Dave whispers, keeping his barrel aimed at the open door.
“A little too quiet,” Joe replies with a nervous chuckle.
“Knock it off,” Dave tells him as he advances cautiously on the doorway, expecting Apollo to leap out of the darkness with each step he takes.
With one hand holding the pistol grip of the shotgun, he uses his other to feel around for the light switch he knows is just on the other side of the door. His fingers finally feel the familiar switch and he flips it on. Fluorescent tube lights spasm to life, lighting up the workshop area and down the narrow hallway. The workshop is open, so they check and clear that room first as quietly and quickly as possible, before following the path of open doors leading farther into the basement. They check the bathroom to the left of the workshop and keep moving down the passage. There’s another open door, separating the three other storage rooms from the rest of the house at the end of the confining hallway. Mike and Lynn have to be in one of these. The floor is bare cement and the walls are unfinished brick. A smattering of cobwebs near the ceiling and around the exposed floor joists for the upper floor completes the foreboding look and sends a chill up Dave’s spine. He’s seen way too many horror movies where some stupid college kid goes into this exact same scene to check a fuse, or investigate a strange noise. His final words to his partying friends are always the same, before culling himself from the herd. I’ll be right back.
As they get closer to the door, Dave struggles to remember where the light switch is that illuminates these other rooms. He keeps waiting to see a savage monster lunge for his throat from out of the darkness, but there’s nothing but dead silence on the other side of the doorway.
“Do you smell that?” Joe asks, pulling up the neck of his T-shirt to cover his nose.
“How could I not?” Dave replies, fighting to control his gorge.
“What is it?”
“I guess we’ll find out. Do you want to go first?”
“And break away from your plan? Are you kidding?” he asks, giving Dave a small push toward the door with his elbow.
“I hate you,” Dave says, inching closer to whatever is waiting for them inside.
Blindly sliding his hand up and down the inside wall, Dave begins to panic when he can’t find the light switch until Joe reminds him it’s on the left side of the door. After changing tactics, Dave immediately finds the switch and flips it up. Another set of fluorescent bulbs flicker on, revealing the source of the horrendous smell.
At first, neither of the men are certain what they’re looking at and it takes a moment for Dave’s mind to wrap itself around the idea. On the floor, in front of door number three to the left, is the motionless body of what was once Apollo. The difficult part to come to grips with is the condition of the remains. It reminds Dave of a bug splattered against a windshield, only the dog’s body is still relatively intact. But it looks like every part of the animal’s body, intended to keep its insides from coming outside, just gave up. There’s a drying spray of blood from its mouth across the cement. More of the stuff leaks from its ears and the eyes and nose have streams of mucousy fluid running from them. A mixture of shit, blood and possible postal carrier has erupted from the dog’s ass, staining the floor a dark color and probably destroying the home’s resale value forever with the stink.
“Get a blanket from the other room,” he tells Joe, no longer bothering to whisper.
“Dave? Is that you?” Mike calls from behind the closed door.
“It’s me,” he replies. “Stay there. We need to clean up a little bit before you come out.”
“Is Apollo out there?”
“That’s what we’re cleaning up.”
“Could you kind of hurry up,” Lynn says.
“Do you have an appointment or something,” Dave asks.
“No. But I’d kind of like to use the bathroom within the next minute or two,” his mother-in-law replies.
“Going as fast as we can, Mom,” he assures her as Joe returns with the blanket. They opt for wiping up as much of the floor detritus as they can with the blanket, being careful not to get any of the gore on them. Then they use it to wrap Apollo and drag him from in front of the door. With the path clear, Dave pulls the door open and an avalanche of various things people store for decades comes tumbling through the opening, nearly knocking Dave on his ass. He stumbles backward, trying to avoid being buried and remembers the safety is still off on the shotgun. Before Mike and Lynn can make it out of the room, he and Joe have their safeties on and the guns pointed at the ground.
“Hey sweetie,” Lynn says as she climbs over the pile of debris to get to the bathroom in the hall. “Thanks for coming,” she adds as she closes the door.
“What she said,” Mike says.
Tossing a couple of golf bags aside to make a clearer path out from the storeroom, he walks up to Dave and the two men embrace. Pulling away, Mike gives Joe the same hug before looking at the large lump under the blanket.
“Apollo?” he asks soberly and Dave nods. “Did you have to…”
“He was like this when we got down here,” Dave says, not making his father-in-law finish the question.
“I wondered what that smell was,” Mike says, wrinkling his nose. “At first, I was going to ask Lynn, but I’m sure you know how well that would�
�ve gone over.”
“I married her daughter, so… yeah.”
“Right. So, I just did my best to ignore it until she said something about it. I figured if it was her, she wouldn’t say a word.”
“Not even an apology?” Joe asks.
“Probably not,” Mike replies. “I’m sure she farted a couple times while we were stuck in there, but I didn’t want to call her on it and start an argument I couldn’t stomp away from.”
“What is that awful smell?” Lynn asks a moment later, exiting the bathroom and closing the door quickly behind her.
“Let’s all go upstairs,” Dave says, avoiding the debate.
“Then what?” Mike asks.
“Then we load up one of your cars with as much non-perishable food as you have and we wait for the others to get here,” he says.
“The others?” Lynn asks.
“Zack and Brigette should be here with the boys any minute. Ben is supposed to be on his way here and might already be outside with Pam and Dakota.”
“Should I make everyone a sandwich or something?” she asks.
“I don’t think you’re going to want to make any food in the kitchen,” he tells her. “There’s a body lying in a pool of blood behind the counter.”
“Who is it?” Lynn asks.
“Evidence points to the mail lady.”
“Oh, Betty… She was always so nice,” Lynn laments.
“We heard some commotion and crashing coming from up there,” Mike says. “We were both hoping it wasn’t one of you.”
“I’m so glad it wasn’t,” Lynn adds.
“Me too,” Joe agrees as the four of them step out of the catacombs and into the television room with the recliners.
“What the fuck ever,” Dave mutters, leading them to the stairs. “Joe, go outside and bring your mom and Dakota in. Tell her that her parents are fine and keep your eyes open.”
“Should I go through the garage?” Joe asks as he starts up ahead of the others.
“No. It takes way too long for the garage door to open and close. Use the front door, the way we came in. That way, we can close it quickly if we have to,” Dave says as he follows Joe to the door and leans the twelve-gauge in the corner. He doesn’t want to keep carrying it around and he definitely doesn’t want to accidentally forget it when they finally leave. “And keep your eyes open while you’re out there!”
“I was gonna,” Joe replies, checking outside before closing the door behind him.
“Hey, Dave?” Mike calls from the kitchen.
“I know, Mike. Let me grab a blanket from the back of the loveseat to cover up the body,” Dave says, certain Mike and Lynn would prefer not to look at the gruesome remains on their floor.
“Thanks,” Mike says.
Dave walks from the front door to the sitting area next to the formal dining table. He keeps his eyes on his in-laws to make sure the disturbing image doesn’t freak them out or send them into shock. To his surprise, they both look relatively calm. If Dave had to put a word to it, he’d say they look confused. Maybe it’s not dear Betty.
“Have you been drinking?” Mike asks. “Because there’s no body in the kitchen.”
“Wha…” Dave starts to ask as he’s hit from behind and sent sprawling across the floor.
To be continued…
The F*cked Series (Book 1): Uppercase Page 10
