by Ike Hamill
Henry leaned forward and pressed his ear against the wood.
As his face flattened, he heard another loud click.
His eyes immediately dropped to the doorknob. Henry jerked back when he saw the tarnished brass rotate. After taking a step back, he held his ground as the door clicked once more and then began to creak open. An inch of darkness became two. The door finally stopped when the gap between the door and the frame was about eight inches of gloom. Henry peered, trying to see the shape of whomever had opened the door. Handles didn’t turn on their own.
“Tommy?” Henry asked.
Something shifted in the dark. Regardless of whether or not Tommy was in there, Henry had no business standing there in the hall, staring into the dark gap between the frame and the door of his room. Sane people didn’t stand alone in the dark, looking out at visitors, and it wasn’t sane of Henry to stand there being looked at.
“I’ll go tell Auggie that you’re ready to talk to him,” Henry said, backing up a step. His heel hit the stair that led back to the hall of the main house.
The door creaked open a few more inches. This time, it moved like maybe a draft had caught it. That was a perfectly reasonable explanation—the hallway certainly was drafty. The kid inside Henry wanted to run. The adult—the voice that usually won out—wanted to put a face on the fear that lived behind that door. It wanted to hang Tommy’s face on whatever was lurking back there in the darkness. Henry only had a passing knowledge of what Tommy looked like, but he was certain that he would recognize him if the man would only step a little closer.
“Are you coming out?” Henry asked.
He didn’t like the way the sound of his voice hung in the hallway.
When the shadows shifted again, Henry realized that he had been looking at the wrong place. His eyes had been focused on where the face of a man should have been—right at eye-level. Instead, he saw the features of a face up near the top of the door.
The man, or whatever it was, must have been at least seven feet tall, because it appeared like he was hunched over.
The kid inside Henry won.
His legs decided to run, regardless of what the adult voice wanted. He forgot about the step. Instead of a clean getaway, when his heel hit the step again, Henry fell backwards. Before his ass hit the floor, the door was creaking open the rest of the way and the tall shape was hunching even more to pass through the doorway.
Chapter 25 : Deidra
DEIDRA SAT ON HER bed, closed her eyes, and folded her legs underneath herself. When she had been a kid, they had called it Indian style. Her kids said something like, “criss cross apple juice.” That wasn’t it, but it was something equally as silly. She wasn’t sad to see the name Indian style go out of vogue. It had always bothered her. What had people called sitting cross-legged before they knew about India? Was the idea of sitting on the floor so foreign to English-speakers that they didn’t even have a native term for it?
She pulled her legs tighter and tried to clear her head.
Deidra wanted to do something that she hadn’t tried to do in a long, long time. June had taught her the trick indirectly.
When they were kids—well, when June was a kid and Deidra was still young enough to indulge her—they had played hide-and-go-seek in the house. Auggie was the best at hiding. Nobody could ever find him except June. When Deidra was “it,” she would always go to the places that June might hide and find her first. With June at her side, they could find anyone.
It made sense in a lot of ways. June was pretty small, so she was good at fitting into tight spaces to look for her brothers. June was also unafraid to crawl into dusty, cobwebby places in order to search. She would never hide there herself, but she was unafraid to look.
That wasn’t what made June such an asset though. When they had looked in all the usual places and June had already squirmed into the back part of the sink cabinet to look for Auggie, June would sit down, Indian style. Instead of running around looking, June would sit perfectly still and make Deidra be quiet too. Then, somehow, June would reach out with something beyond her normal senses and she would search that way.
When June’s eyes would snap open again, she would immediately know where Auggie and Jules were hiding.
Deidra had learned the trick just by imitating June. She sat alone in her room, cross-legged on the bed, and tried to feel the people around her. Nobody else could do it like June, but Deidra felt something when she tried. It was never an exact location, but Deidra could at least sense who was in the house.
There was something else that she could feel, and she had never even asked June if she had the same skill. Deidra could not only get a sense of who was in the house, but she could also sense how they were feeling. If someone had a cold or an upset stomach, they would feel orange or green. If they were happy, they felt purple or blue. Sadness was always yellow. The colors weren’t visible—it was simply one sense mapping onto another.
Deidra hadn’t tried to do it in years.
Now, sitting cross-legged on her bed, she tried to reach out to feel who was around her. Her expectations clouded her initial impressions. Deidra expected to sense her kids, Henry, Auggie, and maybe, distantly, June and the others. Instead, her senses lit up with dozens of impressions around her. Something was haywire. She could feel people who weren’t even in the house—they couldn’t be. She sensed some people who she knew were dead.
Deidra took a breath, shook her head until it cleared, and then she tried again.
This time, she only tried to sense Henry.
It worked. After a moment, she could sense him, down the hall. He was silver—curious, and he was talking to someone who was reddish-brown. Auggie was the other one. He moved away. Henry went from intrigued to a neutral gray. She associated that color with someone who was annoyed or irritated. That made sense. Auggie often annoyed Henry, although Henry was always too polite to say anything about it.
She kept tabs on Henry’s color while she allowed herself to reach out in the other direction as well. The kids were a little nervous, but okay. Downstairs, the colors swirled. Deidra could still sense the other people around—the people who couldn’t be there. She forced herself to ignore them so she could concentrate on the real people.
Deidra wished that she had June’s precision. June probably would have been able to distinguish each individual. Except for her immediate family, Deidra only had a general idea of them.
Something in her gut told her to focus on Henry again. At first, it all seemed the same. Silver-gray Henry stayed put. There was nothing in particular around him, even when she let in the sense of the swirling colors. Something wasn’t quite right though. He wasn’t surrounded by nothing, he was surrounded by darkness. There was a difference between emptiness and darkness. She could tell because the darkness was growing. Silently, it was surrounding Henry, maybe getting ready to envelope him.
Deidra sat up straight, afraid to open her eyes. She feared that if she stopped paying attention, the darkness might decide to try to overtake Henry. The darkness formed into a shape, next to Henry’s color. In response, Henry flashed silver again, with traces of red and blue. He was curious and afraid. His color reached out, probing the darkness. Before Henry’s shape could touch it, the darkness receded as it bolstered its position around him. Any second, it would rise up and overtake him.
Deidra was caught. She didn’t want to leave her children, but she had to warn Henry.
Her eyes flew open.
The same darkness that she had sensed around Henry was pooled around her bed.
Chapter 26 : Isla
ISLA SHIFTED AN INCH to her right. Her leg was only half covered by the blanket and her foot was about to fall off the bed. Every time she moved, her sister rolled over and pressed against her again. Isla sighed.
There was no way that Millie was going to sleep. Still, she tossed and turned, trying to get comfortable.
“Just watch the stupid movie,” Isla whispered at her sister.
They were both tired. But, in Isla’s opinion, it was stupid to think that they were going to be able to sleep.
When Millie flopped over again and rolled the pillow over, Isla held out her elbow so that it would dig into Millie’s side when she tried to press up against her.
Isla smiled when Millie whined, “Ow!”
In an instant, Isla forgot about Millie and forgot entirely about sleep. She forced her foot back on the bed and made sure that she was covered by the blankets. There were eyes in the closet, looking down at them.
Isla flipped the tablet around so the light would be pointed at the closet. Their mom had left it open so Millie would know that nothing was hiding in there. But there was still a shadow up on the shelf near the top. That’s where the eyes were. When the light from the screen hit them, they glittered orange and shrank back into the shadows.
Isla elbowed Millie again.
“Ow! Stop it.”
“Millie,” Isla whispered.
Millie’s eyes flew open at the sound of Isla’s fear.
“What?” Millie whispered.
Isla gestured with her chin. Millie turned over slowly, blinking to clear her eyes. When she saw it, Millie jerked upwards, sitting up next to Isla. The two of them stared and watched the orange eyes on the top shelf blink.
“Mom!” Isla called.
“Shh!” Millie said. “Don’t frighten it. It will attack.”
“Mom!” Isla yelled again, ignoring her sister.
Millie’s hand flew up and clamped over Isla’s mouth.
“Hush,” Millie whispered. “It’s frightened too. If you spook it even more, it might attack.”
“How do you know?” Isla asked.
“I read about rabies, remember?”
Isla did remember. They had heard a story on the radio about a rabid raccoon that attacked a woman and Millie had endured a week of nightmares. To allay her fears, their parents had let Millie read all about the disease, so she could understand how rare and treatable it was in humans. For a month, Millie had absorbed everything she could about the topic.
“Why do you think it’s rabid?” Isla asked.
“Why else would a fox be in the top of the closet?” Millie asked.
Isla couldn’t think of a single other reason. She decided that her sister was probably right.
“What do we do?” Isla asked.
“I don’t know,” Millie said. “Maybe if we’re quiet, it will leave us alone.”
As soon as the words were spoken, the animal disproved the idea. They only saw a flash of orange fur and crazy eyes. The thing sprang from the closet shelf, flew through the air, and then scrambled across the floor to disappear under the bed.
Millie and Isla shrank into the corner, pulling up their legs to their chests and dragging the blanket with them.
# # # #
For a few seconds, everything was quiet.
Millie whispered, “If it comes up here, throw the blanket.”
“Maybe we should run to the door,” Isla said.
Millie shook her head. “If we run, it will chase us and bite.”
The girls pressed closer together with their backs against the pillows. Millie’s shoulder was against the wall. Under them, they heard a scrabbling sound of the fox trying to dig into the wood floor.
“I want Mom,” Isla whispered. “Why didn’t she hear me?”
“Shh.”
They both felt it when the fox turned its attention to the bottom of the bed. The vibration of its clawing rattled the bed frame. After a quick pause, the scratching resumed. This time, the sound of claws on metal was accompanied by the claws digging into something softer—something that was coming away in clumps.
Millie shrank from the wall.
Isla whispered, “It’s going to come up between the wall and the bed. It’s going to squeeze up between there and try to bite us.”
Millie shut her up by grabbing Isla’s wrist and clamping down hard.
Isla’s breathing sped up until she was practically panting. It took a lot to freak her out, but once she did, the panic exploded like fireworks.
“We have to get Mom,” Isla said.
She clawed at Millie’s hand until her sister let go and then Isla sprang from under the covers. She jumped from the bed as Millie swiped the air behind her—trying and failing to catch her before she could leap. It would only take a few steps to get to the door. Isla pretty much knew that their mother was right on the other side. She had seen the dim shadows under the door when their mom had sat down. Mom was out there, protecting them.
Isla heard the fox’s claws on the floor before she even made it a single step. The thing tore after her. Isla screamed when the fox climbed her like a tree. Its sharp talons dug through her pajamas and pierced her tender skin as it climbed. Isla fell to the floor, trying to push the animal away.
She saw its crazy eyes. It wasn’t just rabid—it had been poisoned. The poison and the disease had made it crazy and deadly. The fox was going to die soon and it was going to kill everything in sight while it still had the chance.
Isla tried to throw it off as it climbed up her torso.
The claws dug into her muscles, clinging like velcro. She thrashed and shook, but it held on with no problem.
Millie threw a pillow and then the blanket. Now Isla was trapped under the blanket with the fox and there was just enough light for her to make out the teeth as they snapped shut, clacking together with tremendous force. It was amazing that the teeth didn’t shatter as they slammed together. They meshed so perfectly, those deadly, ivory weapons. They would pierce, tear, and sever anything they came in contact with.
Isla screamed as the fox’s jaws opened and descended towards her throat.
The lights went out.
The floor began to shake.
As fast as it had taken her down, the fox fled. Its claws left new punctures in Isla’s skin as the thing tore off.
Isla threw off the blanket just as all the lights came back on. It was brighter than ever in the room. The bulbs glowed so bright it seemed impossible that they hadn’t yet burst from the heat.
The floor was still shaking. In the bright light, Isla saw dust filtering down from the ceiling. Millie was holding fistfuls of sheets and mattress, riding the bucking bed. The door cracked and the latch popped open as the rumble of the shaking grew.
“Come on!” Isla yelled to Millie.
She rose to unsteady feet, trying to keep her balance as the floor jostled her around. Millie tumbled from the bed and crawled and rolled towards her. Together, they managed to support each other in a low crouch and they maneuvered towards the door.
A pace away, the door flew open.
Their mother was on the other side, beckoning them into the bright hall.
“Come on!” their mother said, waving.
Behind her, the door to Aunt June’s room opened. June and Gus came through, supporting themselves against the door frame.
Chapter 27 : Gus
THE TRIP DOWN THE hall seemed to take forever. They bounced off the walls as the house tossed and jostled beneath them. At one point, just past the kitchen, the floor dropped just as Gus’s foot came down. His heart nearly stopped as his body was in a momentary free fall. To catch himself, he shot an arm out towards the wall. Before he could brace himself, the wall jerked left to meet him, jamming his hand back as his wrist flared with pain.
Gus would have gone down if Uncle Jules hadn’t caught him. He had joined them in the kitchen, emerging from the cellar door, covered in dust.
At the end of the hall Aunt Allison stood at the door to the dining room. She seemed to be standing perfectly normally, holding onto the door with one hand and waving them in with the other.
Gus looked back as his Uncle Auggie fell to the floor and then got back to his knees.
On the other side of Allison, Uncle Tommy made his way from door to door,
clutching molding, handles, and frames like an indoor mountain climber, making a perilous ascent.
When his mother reached the door to the dining room, she turned around and tugged Gus forward, and then pushing him ahead.
He passed through the doorway. It was like passing into the eye of a hurricane. Suddenly, the walls around him were calm. The floor below him was level and solid. The earthquake was over for him, but he could still hear the rumble coming from outside the room. The people out there were still experiencing it, slamming and bouncing.
Gus took a seat next to Millie. She was turned towards her sister. Aunt Kate and Millie were examining Isla’s bleeding scratches on her arms and legs. Gus’s mom flopped down in a chair and reached over to pull him into a hug.
“I’m so sorry, Sweet Pea.”
“It’s not your fault,” Gus said. “It’s this place. We should have left when you said.”
“No, honey, I’m sorry. This is my fault. I’m going to make it okay though.”
They all looked up when Deidra slammed through the door. She was carrying Penny and had Sam stuck to her hip. She reached down with a grunt and dragged Henry through the door by his shirt. Auggie limped back to the doorway to help her drag Henry inside.
“Where did all these chairs come from?” Jules asked. His voice was light and wondering. He sounded like he was caught in a dream and didn’t think he could believe his own eyes.
Gus’s mom hugged him close again. She was pulling so hard that Gus was slipping out of his chair. He ducked under her arm and sat up in his seat as he looked around. This time, everyone from the house was there. He had never seen his cousins in there before. Deidra and Auggie were patting Henry’s face and shaking his shoulders. His eyes were rolling around in his head as he opened them. Henry snapped back quickly.
Sam and Penny were still standing on either side of their mother. Deidra put them in chairs and then returned to Henry as he blinked and worked his jaw around.