The King of Clayfield - 01 (25 page)

I
 
looked up from the phone book. I felt a little like an ass for being so insensitive.

"Yeah," I said. "Sorry. We can do it later. Why don't I drive you two out to--"

"I've already said no to that," she said. "Let's just find his address and take care of this."

Then I heard something so familiar that it didn't register at first--water running in the sink.

Jen and I both got surprised expressions on our faces when it sank in what we were hearing.
 
We went into the kitchen. Sara was standing at the sink with a glass of water. When we came in, she turned around.

"What?" she said.

"The water is working?" Jen said. "How?"

Sara turned it on again.

I tried the light switch, but nothing happened.

"No electricity," I said. "How is there water?"

Jen went to the sink and looked out the window.

"There is a big tank out back," she said. "Maybe it's a cistern."

"That's good to know," I said. "We'll come back."

Sara opened the cabinets, and pulled down a box of Pop Tarts. I went back into the living room to search the phone book.

I found his name and address.
 

"His house is on Depot Street," I said. "He and I are practically neighbors."

Jen came in and sat on the couch, but she didn't say anything. I picked up the telephone to see if it worked. There was a dial tone, but I got a busy signal when I dialed Somerville’s number.

"Phone works," I said. "Do you want to try your brother?"

Jen shook her head.
 

"Sara? Do you want to try to call your family?"

Sara stepped into the living room.

"I tried at the church. No one ever answers."

I stared at the two of them for a moment. They looked so beat up and
 
defeated.

"Why don't the two of you stay here until I get
 
back--"

Jen shook her head again, but I continued.

"Yes," I said. "There's running water. You can get cleaned up and get something to eat. I'll go talk with Mrs. Somerville, and I'll be right back. I'll see if she wants to come back here, too."

"No," Jen said. "What
 
happens if you don't come back? What are we going to do then?"

"I'll be right back," I said. "Sara
 
can bandage up your
 
neck. I'll leave the wine."

"I kind of want to stay," Sara said. "I don't want to be around them anymore."

"Don't want to be around them?" Jen said. "They're everywhere. We can't get a friggin break."

"I'd still
 
rather stay," Sara said. "I haven't eaten real food in a couple of days. There's a gas range in there. If you have a match or a lighter, I could fix us a hot meal."

"Shouldn't we at least break the news to poor Judy Somerville before we have a damn banquet?" Jen said.

"Jesus, Jen, go easy on her," I said.
 

"Just leave," Jen said.

I looked up at Sara. She was staring at the floor.

"Sara, a hot meal sounds nice," I said. "I look forward to it. Heat some water on the stove for me, too, and I'll get a bath when I get back."

I had all kinds of stuff going through my head as I drove to Depot Street.
 
Mrs. Somerville was armed,
 
so approaching her would be tricky. Then I'd have to deliver the bad
 
news. Then I'd have to convince her
 
to come with me. On top of that, I had to contend with
 
these monsters showing up unexpectedly. Then there was Jen....

I didn't have a clock, but I guessed it was around
 
4 p.m. when I pulled up in front of the house. I left
 
the shotgun in the truck and started to the front door. I heard voices coming from the garage.

"Hello? Mrs. Somerville?"

There was silence for a moment, then—

"Yes?"
 

"Mrs. Somerville, I'm a friend. I was hoping I could talk with you."

I heard muffled voices inside.

"Mrs.
 
Somerville?"

She lifted the door. She was standing there in a housecoat and slippers. The .357 magnum was in her right hand.
 
She pointed it at me.

Behind her, parked in the garage,
 
was Nicholas
 
Somerville's muddy, dented,
 
black pickup. He was in the driver's seat.

"Mr. Somerville?"

I couldn't believe what I was seeing.

"In or out," Judy Somerville said. "I need to shut the door."

She kept her gun trained on me as I got inside. She shut the door, and I came to Mr. Somerville's window. There was blood splattered all over the inside of the cab. There was a man in there with him, upside-down with his head in the floorboard. There was another dead man in the bed of the truck.

Somerville looked over at me. He looked like he was in pain, but he still managed to grin.

"What the hell? I said.

"There'll be no language like that," Mrs. Somerville said. "Not in my house."

"I'm a tough son of a bitch, that's what," he said.

"Nick! Watch your mouth."

"Oh, Judy, judging by how things turned out, I don't think Jesus is listening anymore."

"Don't talk like that!"

Mr. Somerville rolled his eyes.

"There's a pry-bar out there," he said. "Start working on this door for me. She hasn't been able to get it open."

"How did you get away?" I said, prying on the door.

"Well, I was all ready to go.
 
They were all over me, coming in the window. They
 
bit me--must have bit me a dozen times.
 
I was trying to decide whether I should use
 
the last shell
 
on them or myself. Then I
 
did the
 
obvious thing and tried to start the truck. It cranked right up, so I got the hell out of there. I brought home a couple of souvenirs."

"Can't get the door from here," I said. "I'll have to get in."

I went around and pulled the body out of the truck, then scooted through the gore so I could get the pry-bar between the seat and the door.

"It means a lot that you came here," he said. "Your a good man to check on Judy like that."

"Well, I
 
figured she'd worry," I said.

"Yeah, she's a worrier," he said. "Where are
 
the girls?"

"I left them in a house
 
outside of town. They're pretty banged up."
 

"Are they
 
alright?"

"They will be once I tell them you're still here," I grinned.

I pulled against the bar.

"Try it," I said.

He groaned in pain and pulled his arm free. His arm
 
and hand
 
were extremely swollen. We'd have to
 
cut his
 
sleeve to get his
 
coat off. Judy
 
helped him inside while I dragged the two bodies outside.

When I came inside, I found him sitting on the couch in a wife-beater undershirt. He had bite marks on his neck and arm, but it looked like his coat had kept them from breaking the skin. His wife came in the room with a plastic baggie full of ice.

"I think his arm is broken," she said.

"Nah," he said. "It's just swollen from having the circulation cut off, that's all."

"You need a doctor," she said.

He looked up at me.

"I don't know where the doctors are, hon."

"What if the bone needs to be set?"

"You'll have to do it," he said.

"I don't know anything about that, Nick."

"Don't worry about it," he said.
 

He looked up at the window.

"It'll be getting dark soon," he said. "You're welcome to stay, but I guess you'll want to get back."

"Why don't you two come with me? It'll be safer."

"Write your address down, and maybe we'll see you in a few days," he said. "As soon as I'm up to it, I'm going to check around town for more survivors."

Judy got up and left the room.

"She'll be fine," Somerville said. "You should probably get going."

I nodded and handed him the address.

"You should probably get a bath, too," he said. "You're rank."

"Could I get a towel or something to put in my seat? I don't want to get this mess all over the truck."

"Sure," he said. "Judy! Bring a big towel!"

"Do you have any alcohol in the house?" I said.

"Yeah," he said. "I've got a bottle hidden in the garage. I saw that on the news. I don't know if it works."

"It works," I said.

"Well, it ought be fun either way. I've never seen Judy drunk before."

"And you never will," Judy said, coming in with a towel.

"You'll get drunk tonight, darlin'," he said. "And if you don't watch out, I might just take advantage of you."

"Nick! We've got company," she said.

I took the towel and said goodbye.

CHAPTER 26

When I pulled into the driveway of the yellow brick house it was getting dark. I'd driven the whole way with my headlights off so I wouldn't attract anyone to our location. The shades were closed. I knocked on the door and announced my presence. Sara opened the door. She was wearing different clothes, and I got a faint sweet scent from her.
 
The room behind her was lit with the flickering of
 
three candles.
 
I could smell kerosene, too,
 
and I saw a lit kerosene heater in the middle of the living room. It hadn't got very warm in there yet, but it would. She looked past me to see if Mrs. Somerville was with me.

"How did it go?" she said, holding the door open for me.

"Better than I expected," I said. "He's alive. He's home."

Jen came out of the kitchen. Her hair was up in a towel, and she had changed out of Brian's jogging suit into some jeans and a sweatshirt. They looked a little big on her. There was a bandage around her throat.

"How can he be alive?" she said.

I came inside and told them the story.
 

"We should have just tried the key to begin with," Jen said.

"Are you hungry?" Sara asked. "I cooked some beef stew. It's the
 
canned stuff, but
 
it smells
 
pretty
 
good. We've been waiting on you before we eat."

"First, how about that bath?"

"Definitely," Jen said. "And lets burn those clothes."

They had two big pots of water boiling on the stove. I ran a little water in the tub, and then poured in the water from the stove. Then I added some more cold water until it was bearable. The water felt good, but I knew the warmth wouldn't last long
 
as cold as it was in the bathroom. I washed quickly then got out shivering.

We were all able to clothe ourselves out of the closets of the house. The clothes didn't fit very well, but our own clothes were just a few miles down the road, and we'd be able to get something for Sara somewhere else.

They'd found other useful things in the house, too. We now had two flashlights, a .22 revolver with another 100 or so rounds of ammunition, blankets, and the kerosene heater.
 
Plus, there were several days’ worth of food.

We sat down for a candle-lit dinner of canned beef stew, corn on the cob,
 
and saltines.
 
The mood was much lighter than it had been; the gloom that had been hanging over Jen was gone. Even with all we'd been through that day alone, the news of Mr. Somerville's escape had everyone acting a bit more positive.

Jen opened a bottle of
 
merlot and poured me a tumbler full. She started to pour some for Sara, but she put her hand over her glass.

"No,"
 
Sara said. "I don't drink.'