The Object: Book One (Object Series) (9 page)

Something shifted on the closet shelf and Sprinkles suddenly leapt out and landed on the bed.  He approached Roger, stopped short, looked him square in the eyes, and gave a long, almost melancholy meow.

Roger reached out to pet him.  Sprinkles hissed and lowered his head.

"Well make up your damn mind," Roger said.

Sprinkles meowed again, this time harshly, impatiently, even.  His green eyes seemed to pulsate with light, leaving dark spots in Roger's vision when he glanced elsewhere, which hadn't been often thus far.  Danny could be right about this creature.  Hair sticking straight up, teeth showing, and those neon LED pupils.  He wasn't sold on the alien idea, but this was no ordinary cat.

He tried to pet Sprinkles again and Sprinkles pawed at the air.

"Look, I don't know what to tell you, cat," Roger said.  "We can either be friends or I can find me another place to stay.  There's a big UFO over the city and the military set up a quarantine so I can't get home and I don't have a lot of options left.  I told Stacie I'd come here and take care of you.  Not sure what the hell I was thinking, but there it is.  Tell you the truth, this whole situation is making me think I've lost my freakin' mind."  He sighed and looked up at the ceiling.  "Enough that I'm talking to a damn cat, anyway."

Sprinkles meowed.  Roger looked down.  It was strange for a cat to stare at someone so long.  Cats are easily distracted, but Sprinkles hadn't flinched.

"What the hell are you staring at?"

Meow
.

"Great," Roger said.  "Not only crazy but a smartass, too."

Meow
.

"I think it's safe to say we have a communication problem."  Roger winced and grabbed his arm to fight a fresh round of stinging in his lacerations.  "I really appreciate this, too, by the way."

Sprinkles let out a closed-mouth snarl, jumped off the bed, and scurried out the door.

"Hey, wait!" Roger called.  He braced himself for screams and gunfire, but they didn't come.

He sat at the edge of the bed, arm in his lap, inspecting his wounds.  A loud crash emanated from the bathroom.

"Danny?"

"Yeah," Danny called from the living room.  "Did you kill it?"

"No," Roger said.

"If it comes in here I'm killin' it."

"No you're not either."

"You just watch and see, buddy."

Roger raised his voice.  "I told it's owner I'd take care of it, right before she died.  You kill that cat, you better kill me, too."

For a moment he got no response.  Then, "You're a crazy sum'bitch, man.  I'm outta here."

He heard Danny rustling around in the kitchen, probably searching for liquor.  Then the front door swung open and slammed shut and Roger felt a sudden wave of relief.  He hadn't realized how nervous that boy made him until he was gone.

Meow
.

He jumped off the bed and spun around.  Sprinkles had returned, and something lay at his feet.

"You're a freakin' ninja cat," Roger said.  "What's that you got there?"  He took a step forward, then stopped.  "You're not gonna claw me again, are you?"

As if he understood, Sprinkles backed away a few steps, allowing Roger to quickly reach in and grab the small plastic tube.

"Holy shit."

It was Neosporin.

~ ~ ~ ~

"Honey, how on Earth--I mean, what the . . . that was impossible."

They stood on the street in the early morning, watching the house burn.  Kate was crying, mourning one of her dolls, or maybe just terrified.  Watching the only home you remember burn to the ground underneath a giant spaceship directly after seeing your sister and a smelly homeless man float in midair was quite a lot to take at once.

Not to mention the screaming.  Ted's awful, agonizing howls, tapered off now but still fresh in everyone's memory.

Here in the orange glow of the fire, Lillia remembered the little squid creature crawling up her arm and onto her head.  She could feel its tiny tentacles woven into her hair and synthetic dreadlocks, and when she tried to touch it, her fingers stopped short, like when you try to put the positive sides of two magnets together.

She felt strange.  Light, loopy.  One time she had to be hospitalized for a severe ulcer and the doctor gave her a shot of Demerol.  This sensation was similar to that, except the shot had slowed everything down, and if anything the world seemed to be moving at a faster pace now.

Kate stepped up to the side of the road, then onto the sidewalk, and there she stood, tiny, shaking, the glow of the fire lighting up her hair.

"You--we were floating, Lillia,"
Sherman
whispered.

Lillia nodded.

"How did you do that?"

"I don't know," she said.  “Hold on.”

She stepped away from
Sherman
and came up to the sidewalk.

Kate looked up.  “Does this mean we don’t have to live with Mrs. Wilkins anymore?”

Lillia smiled and put an arm around her.  “I don’t think we’ll be seeing that woman again.”

“Ever?”

“Ever.”

“Will we see Mr. Wilkins?”

“Nope.”

Kate nodded ardently.  “Good,” she said.  Then, after a moment, “Where are we gonna live now?”

“I don’t know, sweetie.”

Behind them,
Sherman
said, “We should probably get to figuring that out.  No tellin’ what kinda delinquents we’re liable to run into out here.”

The left wall of the house collapsed, bringing the roof down with it in an explosion of smoke and embers.  Lillia reached down to take Kate’s hand and led her out to the road where
Sherman
stood with Drake.  Drake had hardly looked at the house; he was transfixed by the object in the sky.

“We’re in the wild west right now,”
Sherman
continued.  He pointed up at the object’s underbelly.  “That thing scared off I’d say ninety percent of the population, and what you’ve got left is mostly crooks and crazies.”

With her back to the fire, Lillia said, “Let’s go to the public library.”

Sherman
curled his brow.  “The library?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know,” Lillia said.  “I just think that’s where we should go.”

Sherman
reached into his pocket, came out with nothing, then patted the other pocket.  “Dang, I forgot.  Lost my cigarettes.”

“You should quit anyway,” Lillia said.  “And you should quit drinking.”

“Today?”

“What’s wrong with today?”

“Well, that thing,” he said, pointing up again, “whatever the hell it is.”

“I can tell you what it’s not,” Lillia said.

“What’s that?”

“An excuse.”

Sherman
laughed heartily and shook his head.  “Okay, honey, okay, you got me.  I’ll give it a try.”

She smiled and said, “Come on guys.”  She led Kate down the road and looked back to see
Sherman
patting Drake on the back to get his attention.

“The library, huh?”
Sherman
said when he and Drake caught up.

“Yep.”

“I guess ain’t nothin’ there anybody’d be of a mind to steal,” he said.  “Just a bunch of books.”

“I’m gonna look for books about aliens,” Drake said.

“Might not be a bad idea,”
Sherman
said.

~ ~ ~ ~

Barry sat in the recliner by the door, tapping the side of his handgun on his hip and rocking back and forth.  “Hi, son,” he said.

Hayden backed away a few steps until Barry pointed the gun at him.

“You know, I wouldn’t move another inch if I were you.”

“What did you do to her?”

Barry smiled.  “I snapped her little neck in two.”

Hayden began to cry, and despite the overwhelming sadness welling inside him, he couldn‘t help but fight against the tears, just to spite his father.  “Why?” he choked.

“To be honest, I’m not really sure.  I just really . . . can’t stand either one of you.  Never could.  I hate this shit.  Family dinner, small talk, arguing about why I’m late coming home or whatever the hell you’re up to every night.  It’s so boring I could gouge my eyes out.”

Hayden took several deep breaths.  Then he said, “I’m going to kill you.”

“Well, see, I’m afraid not,” Barry said.  “Think you can dodge a bullet?”

“Fight me.”

Barry laughed.  “Say what?”

“If you’re such a tough bastard, put down the gun and fight me.”

“The gun is a lot less painful.”

“You’re scared.”

This time, after laughing, Barry gritted his teeth.  “Okay, you little shit.  You want it the hard way?  You got it.”

Hayden quickly considered his options as Barry removed the clip from the gun and the remaining bullet from the chamber.  He put both in his pocket and dropped the gun on the recliner, then dramatically interlaced his fingers and popped his knuckles.

Just as Barry moved to approach him, Hayden swept a vase off the table and chucked it at his father’s head.  Then he bolted into the kitchen, threw open the balcony door, and leapt over the rail.

When he hit the ground, he heard something pop in his ankle and a white hot streak of pain shot up his leg.  He cried out and clutched his shin, but when he heard his father screaming above him, he forced himself to his feet and hobbled as fast as he could around the side of the building.  As he turned the corner, a gun shot rang out.

It felt like someone had launched a hornet at his shoulder with a slingshot.  He saw the blood mist out in a line right before he dove behind the wall.  There, he took a moment to inspect the exit wound and immediately felt queasy.

Move your ass
,
man.  Go!

He staggered alongside the wall to the parking lot, where he’d thankfully parked under the oak tree at the corner, far away from the building’s entrance.

Another gunshot rang out and the window to the second floor landing shattered.  Hayden jumped in his car, fumbled the key twice trying to insert it in the ignition, and finally tore away from the parking spot, backing up so fast he burned rubber when he spun the front end around to face the exit.

The rear passenger window exploded in a hail of gunfire, and Hayden counted each shot until he skidded out into the road and pushed the accelerator to the floor.

~ ~ ~ ~

Under a cluster of rose bushes and weeds, a black, skeletal hand reached out and clawed at the hard dirt, and behind it a set of large white eyes sought after a tiny ball of light glowering in the shadows just a few feet ahead.

The hand was passed by its opposite, reaching out, grasping a clump of Johnson grass, ripping it out of the ground.  The smoldering monstrosity dragged itself along, inch by inch, until finally its charred, hairless head, blackened and leathery with patches of pinkish white where the skull was exposed, emerged into the light of the little golden squid creature.

Ted tried to whisper to it, but with lungs filled with smoke and no lips, it came out as nothing more than a raspy breath.

He reached out for the creature, but when his fingers were within an inch, he collapsed.

He couldn’t hear, speak, or smell, and he could barely see--just enough to navigate his way through the kitchen and out the back door after the rope burned in half, just enough to watch the fuzzy golden orb as it floated up his arm.

The fire had burned away his sense of touch, too, but now, as the thing moved up his shoulder, his neck, and finally his head, all his senses returned to him.  Now he was screaming uncontrollably and writhing about in the bushes.

All he felt was agony.  Grief.  Anger.  Hatred.  And in the midst of it all, he could only think of one thing.

Lillia.

A Little Light
Reading

The library was quiet, dark.  Lillia kept the children at the door while
Sherman
fumbled blindly around the front desk and office area in search of a light switch.  The power was still on, thankfully.  Lillia could hear the soft hum of air blowing from a vent overhead, pushing the musty odor of old books down with it.  She had always loved to read, the smell of this library as familiar and comforting to her as the memory of living with Ms. Jenny, a fact that begged for Lillia to seek out the light switch. 
Sherman
had insisted she stay with Drake and Kate.

"You never know who might be holed up in here.  Door bein' unlocked and all.  They's some crazy folks in this town."  He looked up and away when he said this last part, as though recalling prior encounters with
Louisville
's wackiest nut jobs.

Now Kate was terrified.  She clung to the hem of Lillia's skirt with her clammy little hand, imagining murderers perched atop the bookshelves, hissing and drooling and staring down at her.

Drake was scared, too, though he worked hard to hide it.  Each time Kate muttered, "I'm scared," Drake followed by declaring himself unperturbed.  But when
Sherman
accidentally turned over a cart full of books, Drake leapt into Lillia and wrapped his arm around the small of her back.

Sherman
cried out in pain.

"Everything okay?" Lillia asked.

"Yessum," he replied with strain in his voice.  A piercing squeal rose as he dragged something across the tile floor.

"Need any help?"

"No ma'am,"
Sherman
said, grunting.

"What are you doing?"

"Trying to move this dang--"  He paused, growled.  Another loud squeal, then a forceful exhale of breath.  "Table.  Got it.  Somebody blocked the office door."

Lillia took a step forward and Kate pulled at her skirt.  "No," she said.

"It's okay, honey," Lillia whispered.  Then to
Sherman
, "You shouldn't go in there without a light." 
Sherman
had tossed his cigarette lighter in the gutter to illustrate his commitment to giving up smoking.

Lillia suddenly wished she had a rock in her hand.  Anybody could be in that office.  An alien someone cornered and locked away.  A mental patient, escaped from Our Lady of Peace in the chaos that erupted under the object's shadow.  What else would someone have tried to imprison?  As
Sherman
had said back on South Brooks, libraries didn't keep much money.  They contained nothing of value, except knowledge.  There had to be something dangerous in there.

This had seemed like the perfect place to wait things out.  Solitude, a great hiding spot, and what better way to distract yourself from what dubious fate awaited the world than to break open a book and escape into another.  Fictional worlds that right now would feel more real than this one.

The smell of the books was unusually potent.  Lillia found herself itching to read a book. 
Sherman
was rummaging again, knocking things over, mumbling to himself--no doubt about needing a cigarette or a drink.

"Finding anything?"

"Nah.  I thought they might be a flashlight 'round here.  A lamp or somethin', geez."

"The computer monitors," Lillia said.

Sherman
was quiet for a moment.  Then he said, "I ain't too familiar with computers.  They got a button?"  His voice softened to a mumble.  "Okay," he said, "well, a little yellow light come on but the screen's still black."

"You have to turn on the motherboard," Lillia said.

"I got it," Drake said, and before Lillia could grab him he took off into the darkness.  She called out to him, but he didn't respond.

"Whoa!"
Sherman
cried, startled by the boy's presence.

A faint blue light illuminated the area behind the front desk and she saw Drake and Sherman standing with their backs to the office door, which was indeed blocked off by a table with several bookshelves stacked on top.  The door had a window, but the mini blinds were down.

Drake was already sitting at the computer.  He loved the internet, one of the many reasons he preferred going to school over being at home.

Kate resisted when Lillia tried to lead her to the desk, so Lillia scooped her up and carried her, something she used to do all the time but as Kate grew had become increasingly tiresome.  This time, though, she had no trouble hoisting the little girl and carrying her like a toddler.

She set Kate on the countertop next to Drake and Drake said, "You gotta check this out."

He'd pulled up a website that had collected images of the object taken by people with cell phones, amateur photographers, and even news helicopters.  These were the closest and most revealing shots, showing the depth and texture of the object's surface.  A jagged mess of square and pyramid-shaped components or housing for components.  It definitely looked mechanical.  As though it had been designed and constructed.  That meant it had to be a spaceship, and whoever or whatever built it likely waited inside.

Waited for what, she didn't know.  The object appeared nearly twenty-four hours ago, and so far it hadn't budged.  Occasionally a gust of wind stirred up a twisting swirl of dust that quickly settled back to the object's surface as though it were its own planet.

The gravitational pull was unmistakable.  As they'd drawn closer to downtown and more directly under the object, she'd felt the air change.  More wind, more dust and debris.  Walking became easier instead of harder, and they must have traveled well over a mile.  No stretch at all for Sherman and Lillia but something of an adventure for Drake and Kate--especially Kate, whom Lillia had often pled with Mrs. Wilkins to take to the doctor for her lack of appetite, pasty skin, and bony frame.

Drake clicked through the photographs faster and faster until suddenly he stopped and said, "Lillia, look!"

Lillia gasped.

On the screen was something unreal.  A monster, and it looked nearly identical to the little squid creature on her head.

She'd forgotten it was there again, the shimmering little thing gone invisible, its tentacles entangled in her hair and weaving so slowly, so gently.  Only when something triggered her memory, like this photograph, could she feel its weight: no more than a baseball cap dropped on but not secured to your head.

The only difference between the squid on her head and the one in the picture was size.  The image Drake marveled over showed the new Riverbats Stadium before the
Ohio River
with a setting sun in the hills beyond.  Above the stadium, in an orb of its own golden-orange glow, floated a gigantic maritime head, smooth and sleek and plasmatic, the size of a house and so translucent Lillia could make out its brain stem.  Connected to the head were thousands, if not millions, of tentacles, all clinging together like copper wire in a cable.  Blue lightning blazed in forks all around the monster, lighting up its deep black marble eyes, which seemed focused on nothing.

"Do you think they eat people?" Drake asked.

Lillia shook her head instinctively, but when she felt the weight of the little guy rocking back and forth in her hair, for a moment she truly believed the aliens to be harmless.

"Lillia,"
Sherman
said.

She turned away from the computer screen, which cast the faintest glow on Sherman, who stood leaning over the table with his ear against the office door.

"I don't hear nothin'," he whispered as she approached.

Lillia listened.  She heard nothing as well.  "Should we go in?" she asked.

"I think we might ought to,"
Sherman
said.  "I don't think I'll be able to sleep otherwise.  I'll get to wonderin'.  No tellin' what's in there."

"What about the kids?"

"Keep 'em by the door, I expect.  Tell the boy to grab the girl and haul ass if anything goes wrong."

"Okay."

She did as
Sherman
suggested.  Drake didn't want to leave the computer, and then when he figured out the plan he wanted to participate.  He tried to argue, but Lillia was stern.  "Go over there and hold your sister's hand," she said.  "Now, Drake."

"Fine, whatever," Drake said.  "Come on, Kate," he said impatiently.

Lillia returned to the office door. 
Sherman
was studying the table and bookshelves.

"You ain't got no more super powers handy, do you?"

"Not that I know of," Lillia said.  She thought for a moment about the event he was referencing.  "I don't know how it happened," she said.

That wasn't exactly true, though.  Deep down, she knew exactly what had made her float in midair.  Never in her life had she possessed such an ability, and then a glowing alien latched onto her head.  A coincidence that big was no coincidence at all.

Sherman
looked at her, a shadow with two glints of light for eyes.  He sighed.  "I got this . . . feelin' takin' over me.  Like nothin's what I thought it was.  You can feel a big change comin' on.  Storms especially.  Livin' on the streets makes you more acquainted with the weather.  A storm lets you know it's comin'."

"You feel a storm coming?"

"I've been known to let a metaphor slip now and again," he said.

"The object,"  Lillia said.  "You think it's going to attack us."

"Don't much matter.  You bet your last dollar we'll attack it, no matter what.  No doubt, young lady.  We got a nuke comin' our way, and our own brothers got us trapped in the crosshairs.  If we're gonna live, we gotta get around them road blocks and machine guns and hightail it on outta here.  See how them country folk live for a while, till whatever happens happens.  Help me scoot this table over, sugar."

Together they lifted one end of the fold-out table and spun it out away from the office door.

"You ready?" he said, putting his hand on the doorknob.

"What if we can't get out of the city?" Lillia asked.

"You just learn to fly, young lady.  Zip us on down to the Gulf."

"I've never been to the beach."

"Me neither."

A moment of silence passed between them. 
Sherman
said, "Yessum.  Well.  One step at a time."

He turned the knob and let the door swing open slowly, spilling dull light over a desk and, on top of the desk, a baby carrier.

Lillia's heart sank.  "Oh no."

Sherman
felt along the wall just inside the door and flipped on the light switch.

"Stand back, honey," he said.

Lillia turned around and put her face in her hands.  She waited for
Sherman
to tell her it was dead.  Who could do such a thing?  Abandon an infant, lock it up in a room where no one would find it?

Suddenly
Sherman
began to laugh, and as if in response the baby let out a wet cry.  "Hey there, little fella.  Where'd your momma go?"

~ ~ ~ ~

Barry followed the nervous young bank teller--the only one who'd shown up to work today--into the open vault where deposit boxes lined every wall.

"Everyone's gone," the boy said.  "Branch manager, loan officers, the girls--everybody.  I didn't know what to do.  Can't lose my job, so here I am."

He inserted his key into one of two keyholes and Barry did the same with his.  Then the teller pulled
the box out from the wall and se
t it on a table.

"Let me know when you're done," the boy said.

Barry nodded and the boy returned to the main lobby.

Now alone, Barry flipped the lid on the deposit box and filled each of his jacket pockets with five $10,000 bundles of one-hundred dollar bills for a total of a hundred grand.

He left the empty box
on the table.  As he passed through the lobby, he stopped and asked, "You staying open all day?"

"Normal business hours," the boy said nervously, "until someone tells me otherwise."

"Good.  That's good."

~ ~ ~ ~

Now that they'd found the main light switch panel and illuminated the entire library, Sherman and Lillia were able to sit down and debate who would take the baby to the hospital.

"It's too dangerous for you to be traispin' around by yourself,"
Sherman
said.  "Besides, I know these streets better'n anybody.  You might get lost."

"I know where the hospitals are," Lillia said.

"You're too young to be on your own."

"I'll be fine,
Sherman
, I promise.  I'm quick.  I can outrun most people."

Sherman
shook his head.  "I don't know, honey.  Feel like I can't let you do it."