The Beast House (27 page)

Jack, at the foot of the stairs, took three shots. Abe kept his eyes shut against the quick bursts of light from the flash.

“Let’s go.”

“Hang on. I want a look around.”

Abe gave him the flashlight. As Jack started to wander the cellar, he gazed up the stairway at the door. He imagined it swinging shut. If someone came from above and locked it…

“Over here,” Jack said.

“What?”

“That hole Gory talked about.”

Abe hurried across the dirt floor and joined Jack beside a crooked stack of bushel baskets. The hole at his feet was roughly circular and almost a yard in diameter. It didn’t go straight down, but dropped away at a steep angle in the direction of the cellar’s rear wall.

Abe covered his eyes. Jack took a photo.

“That’s it,” Abe said. “Let’s go.”

“Take this a minute.” Jack handed the camera to him.

“What am I supposed to do with it?”

“Hang onto it.”

Crouching, Jack aimed the flashlight into the hole. He lowered his face close to the edge and peered in.

“The girls are waiting,” Abe said.

“I know.”

“We’re already late.”

“A couple more minutes won’t make that much difference.” Lying down flat, Jack started squirming head first into the hole.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” Abe muttered.

“I won’t go far.” Jack’s voice came up muffled.

“The fun part,” Abe said. “will be backing out.”

In the last glow before the light faded out, Abe fell to his knees and clutched a cuff of Jack’s jeans. Then he was in darkness. Looking over his shoulder, he watched the dim patch of gray at the cellar door.

They could be up there, right now. They could be on their way out of the house.

He yanked Jack’s cuff. “Come on.”

Jack was no longer moving.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” His voice sounded thick as if he were speaking with a pillow over his mouth. “Goes on and on,” he said.

“Come out of there.”

“Oh, shit.”

“What?”

“Something up ahead. Looking at me.”

Abe felt the hair rise on the back of his neck. “What is it?”

“Let me get closer.”

“What is it? Is something coming?”

“It’s not coming. Huh-uh. It’s…an owl head. No owl, just its head. Man, there’s all kind of bones and shit down here.”

“Great. Time to leave.” He grabbed Jack’s ankles and started to drag him out.

Moments later, light appeared in the hole—a glowing rim around Jack’s shoulder. His head appeared. Abe kept pulling. Jack worked his way backward, elbows shoving at the clay.

Then he was out.

“Infuckingcredible,” he said. “I could only see about twenty feet, but you oughta see all that shit. Bones all over the place down there.”

“Human?”

“Nothing that big. Maybe dogs, cats, squirrels, raccoons. Smaller stuff, too, like from mice or rats. Why don’t you take a quick look?”

“Thanks anyway.”

“I wonder if I could get a picture of that stuff. Worth a try, huh?”

The quick, soft sounds of footsteps rushing down the stairs sounded more animal than human.

Janice pressed herself against the moist clay wall of the tunnel and stared into the blue light. Her heart felt as if it might smash through her ribs. Her breath came in harsh sobs. She clutched the knife with both hands, blade toward the cellar, and held her breath.

She only glimpsed the beast as it passed the tunnel entrance. Her knees sagged. She braced herself against the wall to keep from falling. Her stomach lurched. She swallowed the hot, bitter fluid that rose in her throat.

This—or one like it—was the thing that had raped her. Its claws had ripped her flesh, its snouted mouth had sucked and gnawed her breasts, its penis had been deep inside her and she could still feel the hurt from it.

This—or its brother—was the thing that had murdered her parents and…

She heard a wet, tearing sound.

Pushing herself from the wall, she stepped across the tunnel. Shoulder against the cool clay on the other side, she eased her head past the corner.

The beast, hunched over slightly, had its back to Janice as its claws tore flesh and muscle from her mother’s thigh. She watched, too stunned to move, as it raised the dripping load to its mouth.

A corner of her mind whispered for her to flee, to make good her escape while the creature was busy eating.

No, she thought. I can’t.

The sound of its chewing made her gag. She covered her mouth and ducked out of sight, but she could still hear it.

Jesus. It’s Mom. It’s Mom the thing is…

And then she ran.

She wasn’t quiet about it. She knew she should sneak but she couldn’t, she rushed across the carpet and a savage growl rumbled from her throat and the thing heard her and looked around with scraps of flesh hanging from its mouth and it looked at her with blank pale eyes as if it didn’t give a damn and kept on chewing as it turned and swung a clawed hand at her face. She ducked and rammed the blade into its belly. It roared, spewing the food onto her hair and back. Staggering away, it smashed against her mother. The body’s legs splayed out with the impact. The arms jumped. The head wobbled. The spike slipped out of sight as if sucked into the chest hole, and her mother dropped onto the beast, driving it to its knees.

Janice stepped back, staring at the tangled bodies, half convinced for a moment that her mother was somehow alive. Then the beast, down against the wall with the knife still embedded in its belly, grabbed her mother by the throat and groin and hurled her. The corpse flew at Janice, hit the carpet at her feet, and rolled toward her with flopping arms and legs.

Janice leaped out of its way, spun around, and raced back into the tunnel.

She should have kept on stabbing, damn it.

She cried out in agony as her shoulder slammed against the wall of the tunnel. She bounced off, collided with the other wall, and fell down sobbing. Quickly, she got to her feet. She stumbled onward, one arm out to feel her way, going slower now that she realized the tunnel had turns. Her right hip burned. She felt a warm trickle down her leg. The paring knife in her panties must have cut her during the fall. She pulled it out.

Except for her own sobbing and gasps for air and the slap of her feet on the hard earth of the tunnel floor, she heard nothing. If the beast was coming after her, it must be far back.

Maybe it was too badly hurt to follow.

It can see in the dark, that much she knew from the diary.

She wished she had burned the fucking diary.

None of this would’ve happened. She’d be safe in her bed at the inn and Mom and Dad would still be alive. How had it gotten to them, anyway? They must’ve come looking for her. God, she wished she’d stayed home. It was all her fault. She wished she’d never heard of Brian Blake or Gorman Hardy. They got her into this.

I got myself into this.

I got Mom and Dad killed.

But I can save myself. I can save that woman—Sandy’s mother and the baby—if I can just get out of here. Get help.

Get to Beast House and out to the street. Get to the cops.

The wall went away from her knuckles. She felt blindly with both hands, discovered that the tunnel turned to the left, and hurried through the blackness.

What if there’s a locked door at the other end?

There won’t be. There can’t be.

What if the other beast is waiting up ahead?

No.

What if Wick or Maggie or Agnes or Sandy or all of them reach Beast House first and cut me off?

I’ve still got a knife, she told herself. I’ll rip them up.

And then her thoughts froze as she heard gasping, snarling noises from behind. She rushed on, driven by terror, heedless of the possible turns ahead. The sounds grew louder as she ran. She pumped her arms hard, stretched out her legs as far and fast as she could. Her lungs ached as she sucked breath. All her wounds burned as if their edges were splitting open from the strain. She winced as her right arm scraped a wall. Without slowing, she changed course toward the center.

Now the beast was very close. From the sound of its rattling growl, it could be no more than a yard or two back.

Her left side hit a wall. The blow twisted her. She slammed the moist surface, bounced off it, and fell. She landed on her back.

Staring up into the darkness, she couldn’t see the beast. But she heard a dry hissing sound that was almost like laughter.

Something wet and slimy forced her legs apart. The T-shirt tugged at her, lifting her back from the ground for a moment before it came off her shoulders. She let its sleeves shoot down her limp arms. She felt the points of claws slide down her belly. Her panties were ripped away. Something warm splashed onto her belly, her chest. Its blood.

She felt its hot breath on her face.

“Bastard!” she shrieked, and drove the knife upward. It punched into the thing’s flesh. She jerked it out and stabbed again as the beast wailed in pain. Then it batted her hand. The knife jumped from her numb fingers.

From just beyond her head came a scraping sound like wood sliding over dirt.

The beast clutched her shoulders, its claws digging in Squirming, she rammed a knee into the thing. It kept it grip and knocked her leg aside. Its penis thrust against her thigh.

Its face, just above her own, was dead white and shiny like the flesh of a slug. Saliva spilled onto her from its wide mouth. She wondered why she could suddenly see its face and before she could figure it out the face jerked wildly upward.

The roar that blasted her ears sounded as if the world were exploding.

One of the creature’s eyes was a shiny hole.

A side of its snout flew apart.

Its jaw disintegrated.

She turned her face away as what was left of the beast’s head dropped onto her.

In the silence, Janice’s ears rang.

A man’s voice said, “Holy shit.”

“How’re you doing, ladies?” the barmaid asked.

“I could go for…” Nora started.

“I think we should leave,” Tyler interrupted.

“They said we should wait here.”

“I don’t care.” She got up from the table.

Nora shrugged at the barmaid. “Guess that’s all,” she said. She joined Tyler, and they hurried through the dimly lighted cocktail lounge. “What’s the rush, kiddo?”

“I can’t stand waiting any longer. They said they’d be back in an hour.”

“So they’re twenty minutes late. Maybe it took them longer to get in than they planned.” In spite of the reassuring words, Tyler heard tension in her friend’s voice.

She pushed through one of the heavy wooden doors and held it wide while Nora followed her out. She took a deep breath of the chilly night air. Stopping by the antique carriage near the entrance, she gazed toward the road. No cars passed.

Nora wrapped her arm across her breasts, apparently cold in her filmy orange blouse. “Why don’t we go back in and have another drink? They’ll be along pretty soon. I’m sure they’re all right.”

“Are you?”

“Sure. Come on, it’s better than standing out here freezing our tails.”

“I’ll go crazy if I sit still any longer.”

“What do you want to do?”

“I don’t know. Why don’t they come?”

“They’re probably on the way, right now.”

Tyler caught her breath as headlights brightened the road. She stared through the trees, and sighed when the vehicle sped past. Just a pickup truck.

“Let’s take the car,” she said.

“Okay. At least it’ll be warm.”

They followed the walkway to the courtyard.

“Have you got your keys?” Nora asked.

“Yes.”

“Do you want to change first?”

“No.”

She rushed to keep up with Tyler’s quick pace. “What’s the big hurry? We’ll probably just pass them on the road, anyway, and have to turn around.”

“At least we’ll know they’re all right.”

“We could miss them, you know. If they parked on a side road…”

“We’ll turn around and come back if we don’t spot the car.” She unlocked her Omni, dropped behind the steering wheel, and reached over to flip up the lock button for Nora. She keyed the ignition as Nora climbed in. When the door thumped, she shot the car backwards.

“For Christsake, calm down.”

“I can’t.” She sped toward the road.

“There’s no reason to panic.”

“They should’ve been back by now.”

“I know, I know.”

“Goddamn it.”

“It’s all right.”

“No, it’s not.” She eased off the accelerator only long enough to glance both ways, then swung onto the road with a whine of skidding tires, and floored it.

Nora buckled her safety harness. “Come on, do you want the cops to stop you?”

Shaking her head, she let up on the gas pedal. The lights of town appeared as she rounded a bend. She passed the closed service station. On the next block, she slowed almost to a stop as a Volkswagon backed into her lane from a parking space in front of a tavern. Then she had to stop for the town’s blinking red traffic signal. The intersection was clear. She gunned through it.

“Keep an eye out for the Mustang,” Nora said. “I’ll take the right, you take the left.”

Few cars were parked along this end of the street. Just ahead, the curb in front of Beast House’s long fence was vacant. So was the shoulder across the road. Passing Beach Lane, however, the corner of her eye picked up a bright beam.

“Hold it,” Nora said.

She hit the brake. As the car jerked to a stop, she looked past Nora at the single approaching light. “That can’t be them,” she said.

“Maybe they lost a headlight.”

She waited. The steering wheel was slick under her hands. She rubbed them dry on her skirt. The wool made whispery sounds against her stockings. Then she heard the sputtery grumble of an engine. Twisting around, she peered out the backseat window.

A motorcycle came scooting up the lane, followed by a plume of exhaust and dust swirling red in its taillight. Hunched over its bars was a hatless Captain Frank, his white hair and beard streaming in the wind. The cycle tipped away as it made a quick turn behind the Omni and sped north.