After Dark (21 page)

I slunk back to the dining room. “I think the coast is clear,” I whispered.

“You think? Aren't you positive?” Jimmy asked. He was twitching around like he'd lost control of his body. “I'm not getting a good vibe, Charlie.”

“The coast is clear,” I repeated. I couldn't think of anything else to say and watching Jimmy twitch around was making me even edgier, which meant that on a nervousness scale of 1 to 10, I was now hovering at about a 53.

“Let's keep going,” Elizabeth said. She and Miles looked calm by contrast, as if they'd resigned themselves to getting caught.

“Okay,” I said, and we all creaked our way into the foyer.

“Upstairs?” Miles asked.

I nodded.

I'd just put my foot on the first step, with the others crowding around behind me, when the front door burst open. I'd been coiled up so tightly I sprang at least four feet into the air and spun around, a silent scream caught in my throat. Jimmy collapsed on the ground, scratching at the wall, while Miles and Elizabeth grabbed on to each other. Elizabeth stayed perfectly quiet, but Miles cried out something that sounded like “Jangza!”

All that happened before I could even register that it was Lilith standing in the doorway. She was dressed in some kind of ninja costume, minus the mask. Instead, she'd streaked her face with black war paint and was carrying a five-foot-long wooden staff.

“They followed you here,” she growled, walking into the foyer.

“W-W-Where's Mom?” I stuttered, now twitching myself. Although I was better off than Jimmy, who was shaking on the stairs so vigorously I thought he might be having a seizure.

“Safe — until now,” Lilith said, and then Lennox rumbled through the door behind her.

Lilith swirled around and jabbed him in the nose with the staff, stopping him in his tracks. She twirled the staff in her hands like a baton and then swung it like a baseball bat at his knees, sweeping his legs out from under him.

“Go down to the cellar and out the back,” she said and tossed me the key for the cellar door. Hamish Frog came through the front door next. Lilith tried to whack him with the staff, but he caught it with his hand, so she followed up with a snapping front kick to his privates. Hamish didn't cry out, but he went down, releasing the staff.

“Move it!” Lilith screamed.

“We should listen to her,” Elizabeth said.

“Yeah,” I said and took one last look up the stairs, before corralling everyone down the hall, toward the kitchen.

“Go! Go! Go!” I cried, pushing Miles and Elizabeth along in front of me. Jimmy was practically running up my back as we sprinted toward the kitchen.

As we ran past the ancient refrigerator, I glanced over my shoulder. Lilith was holding her own against two more zompires that had wandered inside, but then Dutton limped out of the sitting room, behind her.

“Lilith, look out!” I cried.

She whipped around, without looking, and nailed Dutton with a roundhouse kick to his square jaw. He crashed into the wall and slumped to the floor.

“She's amazing,” Miles said, pulling me away.

“Yeah,” I said, crossing the kitchen and throwing open the door to the cellar.

“Watch the stairs,” I said, as Elizabeth went in, followed by Miles.

“Hurry, Jimmy,” I said, holding the door open, but he was backing away.

“I can't go down there,” he stammered. “That's where people go to die! The monsters always catch you in the basement! I'll find somewhere to hide up here.”

“Are you crazy? They'll find you!”

“I can't!” he screamed, still twitching all over. “Just go!”

In the foyer I heard Lilith scream out, “Hee-ya!,” and then the sound of feet, lots of feet, were storming down the hallway. An instant later, Baxter appeared down the hall, snarling. He was followed by Balic and the indestructible Dutton, who had blood streaming out of his now crooked nose.

“Go!” Jimmy cried, and then he made a break for the pantry door at the other end of the kitchen.

It was Miles who pulled me in and slammed the door shut. It got really, really dark, really, really fast, and I felt my way down the stairs before bumping into Elizabeth.

“Where are we going?” she said and clicked her phone on. The light from the display created a small bubble of visibility.

“Move, move, move!” Miles said, coming down the stairs.

“Go straight!” I cried, and we hustled along the hallway.

The stink of moldy soil was all around me. The walls were so close together I was grazing my shoulders along the cold stones, and I had to hunch forward or I'd hit my head on the ceiling. I couldn't help thinking that Jimmy might have been right, maybe this is where they wanted us to go.

“There's a left turn coming up,” I said.

An instant later, Elizabeth made the turn.

“Go straight until we get to a door,” I said, feeling the weight of the key in my hand.

“I can hear them! They're coming through the door,” Miles hissed from behind me. “Move it!”

We darted down the dank corridor together. I could hear the footsteps marching down the stairs, streaming into the cellar behind us.

“It's close,” I said, feeling a fresh and almost overwhelming wave of panic and terror sweep through me. We were in a giant grave, and I didn't even know what had happened to Lilith or Mom. All I could do was keep moving.

“The key,” Elizabeth said, stopping so suddenly I bumped into her. “The key,” she repeated, and I tried to give it to her, but I fumbled and it fell onto the ground.

She dropped to her knees and scanned around with her phone.

“Got it!” she cried, as Miles bumped into me.

“Hurry, hurry, hurry,” he said, but we didn't need the reminder. We could all hear their footsteps closing in.

I don't know if I would have been capable of putting the key in the lock, my hands were shaking so much, but Elizabeth managed to do it.

On the way through, I pulled the key back out of the lock and Miles slammed the door shut. I thrust the key at Elizabeth, being extra careful not to drop it this time.

“You can lock it from this side, too,” I said. “I'm too shaky.”

“Done,” Elizabeth said, and a moment later someone slammed into the other side. Dust from the ceiling snowed onto my head.

“Now what?” Miles asked. “I don't think the door will hold for long.”

I eased my way toward the back of the room. In the hall, someone delivered another blow to the door, and I heard the wood splinter and crack.

Miles groaned.

“The back door is this way … I think,” I said. I could smell the paint, mixing with the scent of damp soil and old boxes. There was another violent cracking of wood, and then I stepped on something that creaked under me. I looked down and saw a thin line of light. It was so faint I thought I might be imagining it. That's when I remembered the trapdoor.

Someone crashed into the door again, and a splintering, splitting sound cut through the darkness.

“They're almost in!” Miles cried.

I got down on my hands and knees and felt for the handle that I knew was in the middle of the door.

“This way, quick!” I hissed, and found the handle. “Quick!”

“Where are you?” Elizabeth said and then she kneed me on the side of the head. “Sorry.”

“I'm okay. Move back a bit,” I said. I hoisted the door open.

There was another splintering crack from the hallway door, but I barely noticed it. My attention was fixed on a square concrete shaft that went straight down for about twenty feet. A metal ladder ran along one side. On the other side, about halfway down, a light was attached to the wall, emitting a soft glow. At the bottom of that shaft, on the wall between the ladder and the light, there was a metal door.

Miles cried, “They're coming in!”

“Miles!” Elizabeth called. “We're over here!”

Another crack and I heard a metallic popping sound, and then Miles screamed.

“Miles!” I called, as Elizabeth was starting down the ladder.

“Quick, it's our only chance,” she said, looking up at me.

“Run!” Miles screamed, and I heard wild scuffling through the darkness.

Footsteps rushed toward me as I started down the ladder. I grabbed the edge of the trapdoor and pulled it shut, but it swung back open immediately, and Johnny's face appeared out of the darkness. Shocked, I lost my footing and then my grip on the ladder. I fell for a bit, flailing my arms, before I managed to grab hold of the ladder again. I looked back up. Johnny was staring down at me, his face completely devoid of any feeling, or of any recognition at all. He looked like a person who'd died with their eyes open. Just seeing him like that made my insides turn to ice — then his lips parted in a snarl, revealing a mouthful of fangs.

Elizabeth screamed, then I screamed, and Johnny started climbing down the ladder. I decided to forget about using the rungs and just slid down the rest of the way, landing beside Elizabeth an instant later. She was frantically trying to twist the thick metal handle on the door up or down, but it wouldn't budge.

“It's locked!” she cried.

I looked up. Johnny was halfway down, and now Baxter was looking down at us from the top.

I probably would have just stood there and waited like a cornered rabbit until Johnny bit me, but there was a hiss behind us, and suddenly the metal door swung open. Standing in the doorway, holding his shotgun, was Uncle Hal. He was sporting a plush red bathrobe and silky-looking red pajamas. He was clean-shaven and, apart from the curly, wild hair, generally looked a lot less crazy than the first time we'd met.

“Get in,” he grumbled.

Elizabeth didn't hesitate. She plowed through the door, which looked like it was about a foot thick. I piled in after her, just as Johnny dropped down from the ladder, landing right behind me.

“Back!” Hal commanded and hit Johnny in the face with the butt of his gun. Johnny fell backward, his movie-star nose spouting blood, and Hal pushed the door shut. It closed with another hiss, and then he grabbed on to a steering-wheel-sized disk on the inside of the door. He spun it around, and a bolt (it sounded like a really big bolt) thudded into place. Above the door, a green light went out, and a red light flicked on.

“You shouldn't be out running around this late at night,” he said, turning to us. “And for Pete's sake, Charlie, where's your shirt? There's a young lady present.”

“Somebody took it from me …” I said, looking around in disbelief. We were inside some kind of bunker, about the size of a small apartment, but Hal had it decorated like a ritzy mansion from the 1950s. There were ornate Persian rugs on the floor, dark wooden tables and chairs here and there, a cushy sofa, a huge desk covered in papers, a large dresser and an old-fashioned record player. The tiny kitchen area had a sink, a microwave and a small stovetop. In the back corner of the room were two sets of bunk beds, each with a red sleeping bag rolled out.

“We'll have to rectify that,” he said, putting the shotgun down by the door and strolling toward us. “But first, I think introductions are in order.”

“I'm … I'm …” Elizabeth started, looking shocked.

“This is Elizabeth Opal,” I said.

“I thought so,” Hal said and put his hands together, like he was saying a prayer, and bowed slightly. “You look like your mother.”

“You knew my mother?”

“Yes, but not very well,” he said. Not only did he not look half as crazy as before, but he also wasn't acting half as crazy. And he could hear.

“You can hear,” I said.

“I've got my hearing aids in,” he said, pointing at his ears. “They don't bother me down here — not as much interference, I guess. Plus, I can't listen to my music without them,” he added, walking over to the record player beside his desk and flicking up a switch. Jazz music whirled on, slow and slurry at first, but gradually spinning into normal speed.

“My father was a big jazz fan,” he said. “It keeps me company.”

“How long have you been staying down here, Uncle Hal?” I asked, glancing at the door, expecting Johnny and the rest of them to burst in at any minute despite the thick metal door.

“When your mother decided she was going to make the place into a gard-darned bed-and-breakfast, or whatever she's doing, I started moving some of my things down. When Baxter brought back that package and went loopy — well, I decided to make it my permanent home.”

“Whoa, back up a second,” I said. “You knew about Baxter?”

“I knew something bad was going to come of all his digging around sooner or later.”

“They can't get in, can they?” Elizabeth asked, glancing nervously at the door.

“Miss Opal, this bomb shelter was constructed in 1955, and it was built to withstand an atomic blast. I would be very, very surprised if they could get inside.”

“What are we going to do?” I asked. “Do you have a phone, a computer, anything we can use to get in touch with someone outside to tell them what's going on?”

“Afraid not. My father built this retreat so the family could survive a war, not surf the web. Plus, you can't get any reception down here.”

“He's right,” Elizabeth said, showing me her phone.

“Well, we have to do something. Mom and Lilith are still up there.”

“I'll tell you what you can do. You can have a hot shower,” Hal said. “You darned well need one — you're filthy. There's a washroom back there,” he added, pointing behind a wooden divider in the far corner, opposite the bunk beds.

“A hot shower? You've got to be kidding me, Uncle Hal! We don't have time for hot showers. There's a freaking invasion of the zompires happening out there. They've got Johnny, and Mom and Lilith might be next.”

“And Miles, probably,” Elizabeth muttered.