Dark Corner (58 page)

Emma screamed and ran.

All around the house, windows shattered as if from the
force of a tremendous gale, but deep in her heart she knew it
was no wind that was responsible. Those monsters had probably surrounded her house, and were breaking inside.

With all the folks lounging around her place, coming here
would be like a feast for those creatures.

She itched to get her shotgun. But the one she wanted
was in her bedroom closet. She couldn't go up there. Blood
would be waiting.

She raced into the kitchen. Windows were busted in there,
too, and one of those creatures must have hurled itself through
the hole-she saw one that looked as if it used to be a young
woman. Hell, it looked kinda like Shenice Stevens, who'd
won the town beauty pageant last year. But if it were really
her, shit, she looked like a mess.

The female monster had cornered Buster Hodges. Buster
held up his massive fists in a boxer's stance, his face resolute.
The creature darted toward him. Buster threw his famous
right hook-and hit nothing but air. The vampire moved way too fast. It seized Buster's arm and bit into his meaty bicep.
Buster cried out, and his legs sagged.

Within seconds, the creature had climbed on top of him
like she was sexing him up, but its mouth was attached to
Buster's neck, and the greedy, sucking sounds made Emma's
stomach turn.

Emma was too frightened to try to help him. She whammed
through the door at the back of the kitchen, stumbled into
the garage.

The barbecue grill spat and sizzled, pungent smoke pouring through the half-open garage door and into the night air.

Throwing this party was the dumbest thing I've ever done
in my life, she thought, more lucidly than she had thought
anything all evening. This town has slid into a corner of hell,
and here I am throwing a fucking party. How could I be so
dumb? I should've split the minute I walked out of that church.

But it was too late to get away. Vehicles blocked the driveway, keeping her from backing her Ford out of the garage.
She would've even taken someone else's car to get away, but
she'd have to go back inside the house to find keys, and she
was afraid to go back in there.

Screams of pain and sounds of mayhem came from her
house. The cacophony of furniture being overturned. Glass
shattering. Guns boomed, too; many of the folks at the party
carried pieces.

Emma wondered whether a gun would do any good against
these demon fiends. In the movies, guns never killed vampires.

Hadn't they said something at the church about fire being
lethal to those monsters?

She looked at the barbecue grill. Small flames danced in
the charcoal pit, licking at the burned ribs.

She found a length of wood lying in the corner, left over
from one of Blood's woodworking projects. She doused the
end of the plank with lighter fluid, and dipped it into the
wriggling flames in the grill. The tip of the wood lit up with
a whoosh, the heat baking the sweat on her face.

"You know better than to play with fire, brown sugar." It
was Blood. He entered the garage through the kitchen doorway.

His fangs were fully exposed, rivulets of saliva running
down his chin. Hunger gleamed in his eyes.

"You stay away from me, Blood," Emma said. She waved
the torch in front of her. "I don't wanna hurt you"

Blood's gaze warily followed the flames. He was clearly
afraid of fire. He circled her, slowly, and she turned to keep
the torch between them.

Anguish twisted his face. "I got to have you, brown sugar.
Can't help it. I got to. I can't control it."

"You ain't gotta do nothing but stay away from me ""

He growled, feinted at her. Emma thrust the torch toward
his chest. He screeched as the flames seared his flesh-a horrible sound she had never heard him make, not even when he
had once dropped his cane and tumbled down a flight of
stairs. She felt guilty, just for an instant, and pulled back, and
it was in her moment of weakness that Blood swung his arm,
backhanding her across the face.

She had never been hit so hard in her life. She flew several feet across the garage and smashed into a wheelbarrow.

Roaring, Blood shambled after her. He fell on top of her.

Emma was a strong woman, stronger than many men,
probably stronger than Blood when he was an ordinary man,
but she was weak compared to this creature. She tried to
wrestle from under him, but couldn't move him. She bucked
her knee into his groin, and it made no difference. She tore
her teeth into his forearm, and he didn't release his hold on
her.

He dipped his head down to her neck so eagerly that his
skull bumped against her chin, making her bite her tongue at
the same instant that his teeth pierced her neck. Warm blood
spurted in her mouth.

He drank from her like a child suckling at a mother's
breast, moaning.

Hmm ... this isn't so bad, she thought, and sighed. It
feels good to let him suck from me. I don't think I've ever felt
anything so good in my life.

That old heifer, Lillie, doesn't know what she's missing ...

Lillie Mae stood at the window, watching the happenings
at her sister's place, until the monsters arrived.

When those blood-drinking demons lurked toward Emma's
house, Lillie snatched the curtains closed and stepped away
from the glass.

"I told that old fool not to throw that party," Lillie muttered. She drew on her cigarette. "Mule-headed girl never
wants to listen to me ""

Although her words were harsh, she was frightened. The
devil was loose in town. She felt sorry for her sister and
wished she could help her, but there was nothing she could
do, not really. She was just an old woman with bad lungs and
a toy dog whose bark was bigger than his bite.

She shuffled across the living room. A single candle
glowed in a dish on the nightstand. She usually liked candlelight; it reminded her of when she was a child, at a time
when the world was a kinder, more considerate place. But
this candlelight only stirred her fear. The shifting patches of
shadows in the room seemed to conceal threatening things.

Perched on the arm of the sofa, Rex whined softly. The
dog picked up on her anxiety, as if they shared a telepathic
bond. He watched her with his big, black eyes, his short tail
thumping nervously. He suffered from what she called the
"Little-Big Dog" syndrome and tended to bark at everything
that wandered into the yard, from squirrels to cats to fallen
leaves, but tonight, he stayed on the couch, and he kept
quiet.

The dog was no fool. It understood danger was near.

"We gonna be all right, little man," Lillie said. She placed her thin hand on the dog's back, while her other hand picked
up the phone off the nightstand. She was going to call the
police. She could do something to help Emma and her boozing friends.

There was no dial tone. She put the handset back on the
cradle.

She was not surprised. The devil was crafty, he sure was.
Clipping the phone lines throughout the town would have
been one of his first moves. Cut off the people from civilization and hope.

Sounds of terror reached her from next door. Banging,
shouting, breaking, shooting, screaming.

She touched the crucifix that dangled on her necklace.
She prayed that God would keep Emma and the other
folks safe, but even as she prayed, doubts crept into her
spirit. Emma never listened to anyone. This would be one
time that her stubborn nature would get her into trouble.
Lillie hated to think such thoughts, but she couldn't help
it.

"Dear Lord, have mercy," she said, and her words seemed
loud in the silent house, so loud that she wondered if someone might hear her. Or something.

Rex stopped wagging his tail.

Lillie quietly extinguished her smoke in a tin ashtray.

Noise at the front window. Tap-tap-tap-tap. A brittle
sound like a skeletal finger clicking against the glass.

She lived in an old house, and sometimes it creaked and
made settling sounds, but this noise was nothing like that: it
had purpose.

Someone was at the window. Someone with evil in his
heart. A tangible malevolence seeped through the glass and
into the house, like foul smoke.

Fortunately, heavy curtains covered the window. But she
wondered whether the creature outside had the power to see
through the fabric, and if it was watching her at that moment standing stock-still beside the couch with one hand on her
dog and her other hand closed over her crucifix.

Tap-tap-tap-tap-tap.

She closed her eyes.

Please, Lord, send them away. Put a fence around me.
Keep me safe.

Under her hand, Rex trembled. But the little dog kept
quiet, though his heart throbbed in a frenzy.

She held her breath, praying fervently.

The wind soughed around the house, and it seemed to
carry away the threat. The feeling that she was being watched
passed.

She exhaled. She didn't realize that she had been holding
her breath.

The commotion continued next door. But she had been
spared. Thank the Lord.

She was not going to take any more chances. She gathered Rex in her arms, picked up her Bible off the coffee
table, blew out the candle, and went to the basement.

It was a comfortable hideaway; her son had lived down
there for a year after he graduated college. There were no
windows, the walls were brick, and the door was thick and
strong. An old refrigerator held bottled water, apple juice,
cheese, bread, and Spam. She had stocked up earlier that afternoon, in preparation for a time like this.

She would remain down there until she received a sign
that danger had passed.

She lit another candle, and settled onto the old, sunken
couch. Rex hopped onto the cushion beside her and snuggled up against her leg. She cracked open her Bible to the
book of Revelations-in her opinion, the most frightening
thing ever written, but an appropriate choice for tonightand began to read, picking up from where she had left off
earlier in the evening.

" And I saw a beast coming out of the sea. He had ten horns and seven heads, with ten crowns on his horns, and on
each head was a blasphemous name ...' "

At Pearl's house, David sat on a rocking chair in the
screened-in porch, drinking chamomile tea. He'd needed a
reprieve from the anxiety that permeated the air inside the
house. Perhaps Pearl had worked miracles before, but all of
them worried about Jackson's fate.

Cool air swirled through the screen, touched him with its
fingers. Silvery rain pummeled the earth, and lightning occasionally made a jagged crack in the dark clouds. In the
porch, a candle on a small table provided the only steady light.

What a night, he thought. If we can survive until morning,
maybe we have a chance.

The door opened, startling him. But it was only Nia. A
white towel hung over her shoulder, and her face looked
clean and fresh.

"It's a little chilly out here," she said.

"The tea's keeping me warm. I brought some for you.
Come have a seat." He patted the chair beside him, picked up
the silver teakettle, and poured tea into an extra mug.

"You're a sweetheart" She settled next to him and took
the cup.

For a minute, it seemed to him that they were somewhere
else; perhaps at a quaint bed-and-breakfast in a scenic coastal
town somewhere, winding down after a pleasantly tiring day
of sight-seeing, shopping, and eating in charming restaurants.
They would enjoy the serenity of the night and then retire to
their bed, make love, and sink into the warm folds of sleep.

He shook his head, as though waking from a daydream.

"What's wrong?" she said.

"I was dreaming that we were somewhere else," he said.
"Where we could enjoy each other in peace"

"What a nice thought" She smiled, took a sip of tea. "I feel like I've been living a nightmare tonight. It's kind of relaxing to imagine being somewhere else."

A companionable silence enveloped them. The only sounds
were the faint sputter of the candle, the drumming rain, and
the whispering wind.

"When this is over," he said, suddenly, "I want us to be together."

She shifted to face him.

"I want to be with you, too, David. More than I've ever
wanted to be with anyone"

He touched her face, ran his fingers through her hair. He
softly kissed her lips.

Although he'd said he wanted them to be together, he didn't
have a full understanding of what he meant. Did he want to
marry her, live with her, or what? He couldn't nail down his
feelings and define specifically what being together involved. He knew only that his desire to be with her was as
powerful as his need to breathe.

Or do I know more than that about my feelings? he wondered. I need to be honest. Completely.

"We haven't known each other very long, but I feel as if
I've lived a lifetime with you," he said.

"What are you trying to say, David?" Curiosity danced in
her eyes.

He smiled, self-consciously. "Am I beating around the
bush, or what?"

She only looked at him, smiling.

He sucked in a breath.

"I love you," he said.

Her grin was like sunshine breaking through an overcast
day. "I love you, too, David."

He grasped her hand, kissed it. "I really believe ... we
were meant to be together. Even if none of this other crap was
happening, somehow, somewhere, we were destined to meet.
Does that sound crazy?"

"I knew you were special from the moment we met," she
said. "And it wasn't just because you were so cute"

He laughed. She wrapped her arms around his neck and
pulled him forward, so that their noses were nearly touching.

"I want you to promise us something," she said.

"Promise us?"

"Yes. Us. Promise us that you'll get us through this."

"Nia, I haven't been doing this alone. You've been there
every step of the way "