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Dark Corner

Page 27

by Brandon Massey


  "Stay away from that house, boy!" Dad shouted.

  "Sorry, Dad, but someone has to help," Jahlil said under his breath.

  While his dad commanded him to sit tight, Jahlil climbed out of the patrol car.

  He had not heard another gunshot, and he could not see what was happening around the mansion. The trees blocked his view.

  Gripping the gun, he crossed the road and approached the gate.

  As if they had materialized from the ether, three dogs raced out of the shadows, barking.

  He drew back.

  Snapping, the dogs ran up the fence. They were big animals, and their eyes were like burning coals. Saliva foamed from their mouths. Their teeth appeared to be sharp enough to snap through iron.

  They were just like the dogs that had attacked T-Bone last night. Vampiric mutts.

  He was grateful that the fence was at least six feet high. But he would have to find another way onto the property.

  As he backed away and looked down the deserted road that twisted in front of Jubilee, he heard a clinking noise.

  One of the dogs, a German shepherd mix, stood on its hind legs. With its forepaws, it tapped the lever to open the gate.

  Unbelievable.

  The gate eeked open.

  Jahlil spun and ran.

  The hounds chased after him.

  After he heard his son's frantic call, Van Jackson did not know how long he stared at the radio. Time had slowed; it crept forward with the sluggishness of syrup on a winter morning, and his thoughts were amplified in that segment of distorted time, looping endlessly through his mind.

  He gnawed his fingernail with the feverishness of a trapped raccoon chewing on a snagged paw.

  Gotta help my son and the deputy, but I'm scared ... gotta help my son and the deputy, but I'm scared ... gotta help my son and the deputy, but I'm scared ... gotta help my son and the deputy, but I'm scared...

  Ink-black eyes floated into his mind's eye. Eyes as deep as wells. And words, too, delivered with the coolness of a seasoned killer.

  When you leave this place, you will not remember seeing me or the dogs. When you leave this place, the idea of ever visiting this residence again will fill you with paralyzing fear. You will not remember me issuing these commands to you. You will act upon them as though they spring from your own consciousness ...

  A revelation broke through Jackson's thoughts, like a cracking rifle shot.

  That man at the Mason place has been controlling my mind.

  "Shit!" he said.

  He looked at his finger. He had bitten past the nail and punctured the skin. Bright blood oozed from the wound, and it throbbed with dull pain.

  But he had gotten his mind back.

  At last, he remembered visiting Jubilee and speaking to the tall man draped in heavy black clothes. He had been there to question him about the disappearance of a young lady. The man had boldly admitted his guilt-then somehow erased the incident out of Jackson's mind as though his brain were merely a blackboard. He'd injected Jackson with a liberal dose of crippling fear, too. Nothing else explained the irrational dread that had dogged him lately. He had been brainwashed.

  But Jackson remembered everything now. The anxiety that coiled around his gut this time was not irrational, but very sensible. They were dealing with something supernatural. Perhaps a vampire, as Hunter and James claimed, or perhaps something else. Whatever it was, he had never dealt with it before.

  Now he had to face it. His son and his deputy were up at that godforsaken house. They'd probably gone there because he'd been acting like too much of a coward to fulfill his duty.

  He would never forgive himself for this.

  He ran out of the station and to his patrol car.

  He roared down the street, sirens blaring.

  Surrounded on two sides by vicious dogs, Deputy Dudu's only alternative was to run toward the back of the Mason house.

  He had never been a fast runner. Although he had long legs, he lacked coordination, always had. His clumsiness made him the butt of jokes in school. Nicknames such as "The Stickman" and "Dudu the Dodo Bird" had followed him all the way through to high school graduation.

  He heard the taunts in his thoughts as he sprinted along the side of the house. His hat spun off his head. The alien dogs were on his butt. They were too close for him to dare looking behind him.

  He rounded the rear corner. A set of storm doors were ahead. They yawned open, like jaws.

  He ran toward the doorway. It was the only place to escape.

  A short flight of crumbling stone steps led into a dark chamber. He leapt across the stairs and landed on the concrete below. Pain jolted through his knees. He stumbled, grimacing.

  Above him, the doors closed with a boom. Darkness filled the stairwell and the room beyond.

  A lock snicked into place.

  Had someone been hidden outside, waiting for him to plunge into the cellar so they could trap him?

  The dogs had fallen silent. They did not scratch against the door, either.

  It was as if the hounds had purposefully driven him to the basement. Their work complete, they were leaving him in the hands of whatever unearthly evil awaited him inside.

  Cut it out, he thought. You don't know that.

  Nevertheless, fear tightened his throat.

  He thought of using his radio to call for help again, but he was afraid to make any noise. The kid had already heard him the first time, anyway. It was up to the boy to do the right thing and get him some assistance. Quickly

  The sound of his breathing was loud down there, as if he were shut inside a coffin.

  He gripped the Glock in one hand. With his other hand, he unclipped his small flashlight from his belt, clicked it on.

  He panned the light around. No windows at all. Gray brick walls, ranked with melted candles. An entertainment center that housed a television and other electronics was positioned in front of a large, hospital-style bed. The white sheets covered a large, humanoid shape.

  He remembered what the folks had told him earlier about vampires. The master vampire-or alien, as Dudu preferred to think of it-was supposed to be in the house, feeding on blood and building his strength. Dudu would wager that this was the creature's room. The faint, coppery smell of blood flavored the dank air.

  Was the vampire lying in the bed, asleep?

  His eyes had mostly adjusted to the darkness. He wanted to free his hands, so he balanced the flashlight on the floor. The funnel of light angled upward and provided decent illumination throughout the center of the room.

  He moved to the foot of the bed. He grasped the end of the sheet. Aiming the gun at whatever lay on the mattress, he pulled down the blanket.

  Three fluffy pillows lay on the bed. There was no one there. No alien, no vampire.

  "Crap," Dudu said. He released a pent-up breath. He'd been frightened out of his mind for nothing. There was a threat in his midst, but it was not in here.

  You've got to be braver than this, Dudu, if you want to earn the title of Earth's Defender.

  He smiled a little.

  Something warm dripped onto his arm. Frowning, he looked up.

  A giant black man hung suspended against the ceiling like a monstrous spider, lips parted to reveal sharp fangs that dripped with saliva.

  Dudu cried out and swung the gun upward. The man's long arm swooped like a scythe through the air. He swatted the revolver out of Dudu's hands. The gun clattered into the darkness.

  Frantic, Dudu drew his nightstick out of its loop on his belt.

  The man unpeeled his body from the ceiling and fluidly came to stand against the floor. He was huge-a whole head taller than Dudu, who stood six-four. He was as muscular as Dudu was skinny. He wore a ragged black shirt, jeans, boots.

  The creature's eyes were black holes.

  Blinking, Dudu stumbled backward.

  For the first time in his life, he was face-to-face with an extraterrestrial. This wasn't a tabloid photograph. This was real
.

  He felt a warm gush running down his leg. He had urinated on himself.

  "What ... what world are you from?" Dudu said. He was amazed that he had the presence of mind to ask such a question. "You're not a vampire. You're an alien!"

  Grunting, the creature lunged at Dudu. Dudu yelled a battle cry and swung the nightstick with all his strength. The creature seized the baton in midair and snatched it out of Dudu's hands. It snapped the stick in half as though it were a pencil.

  Weaponless except for his bare hands, Dudu began to throw a punch, but the creature clapped its hands over Dudu's shoulders and squeezed, pinning his arms to his sides. Dudu struggled, but it was like being trapped in a steel clamp. He couldn't get away.

  The creature opened its wide, fang-filled mouth.

  Last summer, a raccoon had become trapped in Dudu's chimney, and the stink of the dead animal had contaminated the entire house. The smell that roiled from this beast's maw was equally sickening: it was the stench of death.

  The creature lifted Dudu in the air and drew him forward.

  Dudu finally realized where this monster had really come from, and it was not Venus, Mars, the Andromeda galaxy, or any other galactic world.

  It was from hell.

  David knocked on the door of Franklin's hospital room before he and Nia went inside.

  Sitting at Franklin's bedside, Ruby looked up. She still wore her nurse's uniform. Her hair was frizzy, and her redrimmed eyes were puffy from crying.

  David's heart ached. Ruby had undoubtedly been at her husband's side all night.

  Franklin lay on his back, eyes closed, chest rising and falling slowly.

  "How's he doing?" David said.

  "He's been sleeping on and off," Ruby said in a scratchy voice. "Dr. Green came in earlier to check on him, and he still can't figure out what's wrong. They think it's a virus of some kind. They're waiting on blood test results."

  "Which might not prove anything," David said. "Of course, no one told his doctor anything about vampires."

  "Dr. Green would never believe a story like that," Ruby said. "I wouldn't believe it either, if I weren't living it."

  "I'm so sorry, Ruby," Nia said. She rubbed the older woman's shoulder.

  David stood near Franklin. Franklin looked so sickly, nothing like the man who had kindly greeted him when he moved into his father's house. That day seemed like a lifetime ago.

  David held Franklin's hand. The man's fingers were cool. David was afraid to wonder how close Franklin was to changing.

  Franklin opened his eyes, blinked groggily.

  "I don't have much time left, do I?" Franklin said, in a weak voice.

  "Oh, sugar" Ruby kissed Franklin's cheek. "You have all the time in the world, we're going to make you better, you hear me?"

  Franklin smiled, but it was a sad expression. "Where are your crutches, David?"

  "A lot has happened since we last saw you," David said.

  "Tell me, please," Franklin said. He scooted up a few inches. "I may be in my last hours as a man, but that hasn't diminished my thirst for a good story."

  Jahlil jumped into the patrol car and locked the doors.

  Although he had a gun, he wasn't quick enough on the draw to drop three super-fast, monster mutts. Trying something like that would be crazy.

  The vampiric dogs charged across the road. One of them leapt against the passenger door, angry snout mashed against the glass. Another pounced onto the hood.

  The car rocked under the creatures' assault, metal creaking and buckling. The canines' relentless snarls hurt Jahlil's ears.

  He grabbed the radio handset. "Dad, where are you? You've gotta get up here now! The dogs have trapped me in the car!"

  Dad's voice came over the airwaves, barely audible over the dogs' ferocious barks. "On my way, son. Sit tight. You got the key?"

  Jahlil looked at the ignition. The key dangled there. His terror had blinded him to the obvious.

  "If you got the key, drive the hell away from there," Dad said.

  "Got it," Jahlil said.

  "Drive away, but don't go too far. I'll be there in a couple of minutes."

  "Okay, Dad"

  Shaking, Jahlil twisted the key.

  The engine coughed, but did not start.

  "Oh, no, no, no!" Jahlil hammered the steering wheel. "Don't do this to me!"

  The third dog bounded onto the roof. The ceiling wailed under the animal's weight.

  The hounds' ceaseless barks mangled his nerves.

  He turned the key again.

  The engine caught and turned over.

  Thank you, God.

  He punched the accelerator. The car rocketed forward, throwing the dogs off balance, and Jahlil realized, too late, that because the deputy had parked the vehicle on the downward slope of a hill, he had angled the tires toward the curb. The burst of acceleration launched the car off the shoulder and directly into a deep, muddy ditch.

  Cursing, Jahlil jacked the gear into reverse and pressed the gas.

  The tires spun uselessly, spitting up gravel. He was stuck.

  The monster hounds roared and attacked the car.

  Chapter 15

  Chief Jackson had stopped thinking about himself. He focused on one person: his son.

  Never in his life had he been so determined to see anyone safe. He would not lose his son, not to those dogs, not to a vampire or whatever it was, not to anyone. His son was all he had left in the world.

  The car's engine shrieked as he accelerated up the steep hill leading to Jubilee.

  Anger pressed on his heart. Someone should've burned down that goddamn house a long time ago. When this was all over, he just might do the deed himself.

  At the crest of the hill, he veered onto Mason Road, tires screaming.

  He saw the deputy's cruiser ahead, lodged in a ditch. The spinning tires threw a shower of dirt in the air.

  Three big dogs swarmed on the vehicle, like wolves eager to tear apart a lame deer.

  Jackson loved animals, but he itched to blast these hounds to hell.

  He skidded to a stop in the middle of the road. He grabbed his Remington twelve-gauge shotgun.

  Hunched atop the car, the canines glowered at him.

  He remembered seeing these hellish things when he'd visited Jubilee earlier. They weren't dogs anymore. He could blow them away with impunity.

  He banged open the door and braced his arms in the crevice between the door and the car.

  A dog jumped off the cruiser and ran at him.

  You might be mad, mutt, but you ain't half as mad as I am.

  Jackson always had been a crack shot, having lived around guns all his life. This time was no exception. He pulled the trigger and drilled the dog in the chest. The hound squealed and rolled backward across the asphalt like a tumbleweed blown in the wind.

  One down, two to go.

  The other two animals were undeterred by their fallen mate. They leapt off the car and raced across the road after Jackson.

  Jackson squeezed off two more shots, hitting the animals squarely in the chest. They flopped to the ground, squirming and howling. Their cries of agony touched him for a moment; they sounded so much like ordinary dogs.

  But they aren't, and they were gonna rip my kid to shreds, he reminded himself.

  The creatures stopped moving, and fell silent.

  Jackson lowered the smoking shotgun.

  "All clear, son!" he shouted.

  The cruiser's door flew open. Jahlil staggered out of the vehicle. He fell to his knees, doubled over, and vomited in the grass.

  Jackson rushed to him.

  "It's all right." Jackson patted the boy's back. "Those mutts are dead"

  "I've never been so scared," Jahlil said, gasping. He wiped his mouth with his shirt. "They scared the shit out of me. Sorry."

  "Hell, I'm the one who should be apologizing. I was something less than a man back there at the station, and I'm sorry. My fault you got into this. You were being bra
ve"

  Jahlil shrugged. "Someone had to help the deputy." He looked at the mansion. "I don't know where Dudu is. I haven't heard anything else from him."

  Jackson spat on the ground. Fear of what awaited them inside the house chewed at him, but he pushed it away. He was not going to be stopped again. "We got to go in there and get him."

  "Hell, no," Jahlil said. "Sorry, Dad, but that's nuts. Dudu told me that he saw one of those vampires watching him through the window-he saw the tall guy who's always wearing black. I know vampires are supposed to stay in their coffins during the day, but he wasn't asleep."

  "Son, I can't leave my deputy to die, like I couldn't leave you"

  "Yeah, but I wasn't in there" Jahlil pointed at the house. "There were more of those vampire dogs running around the yard up there, too. We'd need an army to make a move on that place. You and I couldn't do it."

  "Yeah" Jackson spat again. "Makes a lot of sense"

  "We should go back to the station and hit up that guy David and the woman, Nia. We need them to help us come up with a plan. They've figured out all of this stuff already. Later, we can round up some people and storm the Mason crib to get Dudu, if he's still alive."

  "Smart plan, but I hate to leave my man in there"

  "Then try him on the radio," Jahlil said.

  Jackson clicked on his walkie-talkie. He called for the deputy. Several attempts yielded only flat static.

  "He's gone," Jahlil said. "I hate to say it, Dad, but I can feel it."

  Jackson put away the radio. "All right, we're gonna follow your plan. But we're coming back later for my deputy."

  Jahlil was about to say something when he looked behind Jackson. His eyes grew as large as golf balls.

  Jackson turned.

  The dogs were stirring. Their legs trembled, their jaws clenched and unclenched, and their eyes blinked as though they were awakening from a nap.

  But the blood was still damp on their gunshot chests.

  A numbing coldness came over Jackson.

  "That ain't possible," Jackson said. "It ain't. I plugged each one of 'em in the heart with a twelve gauge"

  Groaning, one of the dogs drew its legs under its body, preparing to stand.

  Jackson and Jahlil ran to his car.

  "Look at that," Jahlil said, when they were locked inside the cruiser. "All of them are getting up "

 

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