by Brett McKay
I rode my bike across the street and climbed atop one of the Moguls. Gary’s house was at the far end of the Moguls, on Redwood Road, and it was visible in the distance.
Gary appeared on the south side of his house, riding his bike toward me. He stopped a few feet from the house. I vaguely heard a voice bellow to him. It sounded like his dad, but I couldn’t make out the words.
Gary’s head turned. He responded to the yelling. He sat for a good few minutes, and I could see the frustration as he shook his head and gestured with his arms. Finally, he turned the bike around, rode slowly toward home, and disappeared around the corner. I was alone, feeling guilty about the trouble I’d brought on my friends and that I’d been able to escape my house even though they couldn’t.
I rode my bike back to our cave and parked it. As soon as I’d crawled inside, the shade was a relief from the sun and heat. I shuffled to the back of the cave and curled into a comfortable lying position. I looked at the structure and remarked on how well it was built. It was the best structure we’d ever created.
A shadow crossed the entrance, and I shot up in a sitting position. Two adult legs stood in front of the opening, and when the man bent down to peek inside, my heart nearly leapt out of my mouth.
“Hello, Ret.” Lester’s greasy smile spread across his face. “You in here all alone?” His beady eyes ran across the interior of the cave.
Body clenched, I sat still.
“Pretty nice place you boys have built here.”
“What do you want?” I asked.
Lester bent his knees and crouched. “I want your head.” He smirked. “To be completely honest, I want to pin your body to the ground with stakes in each arm and leg and scoop your eyeballs out with a spoon.” He chuckled with a sick glee in his eyes.
“That’s very detailed,” I said.
“That’s what I’d like to do... but it seems we’re under a bit of scrutiny from the police. The cops and media won’t leave us alone.” He dug his forefinger into the dirt wall of the cave and dug out a small clod that crumbled to the floor.
“Maybe you should give yourselves up,” I said.
“Well, you’ve put us in a desperate mode. I’ll give you that. We have dire work to finish that can’t wait. Thanks to you.” He shook his head, and his face colored up. “You little shits should have left us alone!” Spittle flew from his lips as his anger erupted. “We’re out of time now, and lives are at stake!”
“Our lives are at stake! You’re stealing and killing our people! Why?”
“‘Our people’?” He sneered. “Why should I care?”
“Why do you care about them?”
“Because they care about me! No one in this world cares for me! No one sees me.” He pounded his chest with his hand. “But they care, and they have more to offer. A whole lot more.”
“They’re only using you. Why can’t you see that?”
“No, they’re not!” he snapped defensively. “People use me here all the time, but not these people. They need me. There’s a difference.”
“And what happens when they’ve made it through? Once Beaumont has all his prison buddies back? They’ll throw you to the wolves, Lester.”
There was a pause as he pondered, then he scoffed and chuckled again. “What the hell do you know? Just a punk kid? You got a lot more growin’ up to do, and when you do, you’ll see the world for what it really is. Like I do.”
Lester wiped sweaty bangs from his forehead. “It’s a dog-eat-dog world. An eye for an eye. You do someone wrong, well... they’ll do something equally wrong back to you. You have to pay for the things you do to people. That’s the way of this world, and you have to pay for what you did, Ret. You and your friends.” He pounded the wall of our cave with a fist, and a crack appeared in the dirt.
“Just leave me alone, please. I won’t break into your house. I won’t involve the police. I’m finished doing anything. I’m not even supposed to be here. I’m grounded.”
“It’s too late for that, Ret. You cost us time and lives, and you have to pay for that.” He hit the wall harder, and a large chunk of dirt fell.
He crawled deeper into the cave, and I scrunched my knees to my chest. His arm bumped one of the supports, nudging it slightly out of place. Small clumps of dirt rained down on his head and the back of his neck. Gritting his teeth, he glared at me and kept coming.
“What are you doing? Get out of here!” My leg shot out and kicked his head, and it really set him off.
He bolted forward faster than I’d imagined he could, then he grabbed the front of my shirt in both hands and pulled my face to his.
“We have her, Ret.” He snarled then giggled. “We took your girlfriend. That’s how it works. You mess with us, you call the cops, try to blame Andrea’s death on us, and well... you only brought this on yourself.”
“No,” I said. “Please leave her out of this.”
He pushed me, and I landed against the back of the cave. The wall cracked, and a ton of dirt fell on top of me.
“You want her? Come and replace her. Tonight, before we feed her to them. Or save yourself and don’t come. Either way, I don’t care. Just remember to come alone. No cops!”
He erased his smile. His face went dark and grim as he backed out of the cave. He swept two standing support beams out of place with his arms. They tumbled to the ground, and more dirt fell.
Once outside, he stood and began kicking at the sides of the entrance. I watched in horror as the roof crumbled and a cloud of dirt blocked out all sunlight coming through the entrance.
“No!” I cried. It was all I could say. “No!” I started to crawl to the entrance.
He went to the south side, and without the support beams, it only took two strong kicks before the entire fort caved in.
An immense weight hit my back, slamming my stomach against the ground. My knee scraped a rock, and pain screamed inside me. Dirt, clods, and rocks buried me, and panic set in. I heard his muffled laughter outside as he walked away.
I pushed against the weight on top of me, arching my back as dirt ran off and surrounded me. I still had a pocket of air in front of my face, but it was quickly filling up.
Come on, come on... I moved my legs and arms, pressing and crawling. I clawed at the dirt and shoved massive amounts to either side. Sunlight peeked in, and soon I broke the surface, pulled myself out, and fell onto my back, panting.
I stared at the sky until I heard footsteps approach.
Startled, I turned to see Tadd standing a few feet away from me, looking pissed off. I smiled with relief that it wasn’t Lester.
“What are you smiling at?” he snapped.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Escape Plan
I winced as I put the cold rag to my bleeding, scraped-up knee and washed dirt from the wound. I sat on the toilet seat while Tadd, arms folded, leaned against the doorjamb and glared at me.
He walked over and slugged me in the arm. I think he put all his anger and energy into that punch, and he did it while wearing his bulky school ring. It felt like a bullet, and I knew the spot would swell into a large purple bruise.
“That’s for sneaking out of the house. It’s not going to happen again. When you’re done putting Band-Aids on, get your ass to the living room.”
When I got to the living room, he made me sit in a corner, away from the TV. “Don’t move from that spot!”
“What if I need to pee?”
“I’ll bring you a bucket.”
I sighed and did my time. I sobbed on the inside, not wanting him to see, as I thought about Dawn and the trouble she was in. The whole town would be in an uproar looking for her. I only hoped they had the sense to go to the Crooked House first.
But there I sat, grounded to a corner—helpless. With nothing but my worry to keep me company, I wondered what Beaumont’s plan was. It was crazy to think that while under so much scrutiny he would risk everything to continue to steal people, including children, and bring them
to that house. But desperation made people do crazy things. Like Lester had said, he couldn’t wait any longer. The Tormentor was after them, and they planned to feed Dawn to them. Does that mean what I think it means? I couldn’t let myself imagine it. One thing was certain: once they had everyone into this world, they would disappear. The next day, they would be long gone.
An hour into my sentence, I asked Tadd if I could use the restroom.
He rolled his eyes and sighed. “Fine. Make it quick.”
I walked past the bathroom and into my parents’ room.
“Hey! Bathroom’s right there!” he yelled.
“I’m using Mom’s bathroom.”
“Fine! Go!”
In my parents’ room, I plopped onto their bed, grabbed the phone off the nightstand, and called the police station.
“Riverton Police,” Doreen answered on the third ring.
“Hey, Doreen, is Sheriff Packard there?”
“He’s not here, Ret. He has a lot on his plate today. Anything I can help you with?”
I sank, defeated. The sheriff was my only chance. As my thoughts raced, I was silent.
“Ret? You still there?”
“Yes, sorry, Doreen. Will you please tell him I called? It’s urgent. Just have him call me as soon as you can.”
“Yes. I will.”
The phone ripped out of my hands and shot backward as Tadd yanked on the cord. He was pissed. He slugged me again, and this time, he tied my arms up with rope and told me if I had to pee or shit, I would have to go in my own pants and sit in it until Mom got home. Things couldn’t get worse.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Alone
As Mom pulled into the driveway, Tadd raced to untie me. “You didn’t run away, and I didn’t tie you up and hit you. Understand?”
“Deal,” I mumbled.
I had to come up with a plan to sneak out of the house that night. Dawn’s life depended on it. I just hoped it wouldn’t be too late. What if they start the crossover of his demon friends before I arrive?
I kept my deal with Tadd, and Mom wasn’t any the wiser.
She started pulling ingredients from the cupboards to cook dinner, and I walked into the kitchen to help her. Tadd went to his room, got ready for his date, yelled goodbye to us, and tore out of the house. Mom made extra servings of spaghetti that night so she could take a meal over to Dawn’s family. She shook the last bit of salt onto the browning meat and turned to me. “Ret, get more salt out of the cupboard, will you?”
I brought the container of Morton salt to her. There were only a few granules left. “Looks like we’re out.”
“Out? We can’t be out. I just bought some last week. I need salt to season the meat!” She turned and called out, “Scott! Go across the street to the Crawfords’ and borrow some salt.”
He rolled his eyes dramatically and sauntered outside.
There was no salt left in the house because I’d used it all concocting a mixture of extremely salty water and filled up two of our water guns with it. I’d filled five sandwich bags full of the rest of the salt. They were my weapons for the night, and I hoped they worked.
When my dad came home, he told us that Sheriff Packard and the FBI had searched the Crooked House. “Half the town was at Lester’s house, causing an uproar,” my dad told us as he sat down at the dinner table. “I went over there earlier, and the Williamses were demanding to be let into that house and search for their daughter. Things got so out of hand it turned a bit physical.”
“Physical?” My mom’s eyes widened.
“Just some pushing and shoving.” My dad began scooping noodles onto his plate from the bowl in the center of the table. Shaking his head, he said, “Someone pushed Lester down, and that’s when Sheriff Packard showed up with his deputies.”
“Do people really think Mr. Beaumont and Lester took Dawn?” She glanced at me as if to check if I was okay, knowing Dawn was my friend. “I don’t know Lester, but I still can’t believe Mr. Beaumont would do such a thing.”
“It’s always the last ones you’d suspect who turn out psycho.”
Scott kept silent, looking at his plate and twirling spaghetti on his fork. Jeff finally walked into the kitchen and grabbed a plate.
“Did they find her?” I asked my dad.
He stopped chewing his food and looked at me. He shook his head solemnly. “No. I’m afraid not.”
After dinner, I climbed our back fence to check on the police activity at Lester’s house. Through the binoculars, I saw the FBI and CSI units, along with uniformed officers. A man I assumed was Beaumont’s lawyer stood next to Beaumont, talking to the police. The last cop car left just before dark. From what I could see, they left empty-handed and disappointed.
No Dawn in sight. I watched as long as I could, hoping to catch them as they snuck her into the house after everyone was gone, but I saw no strange activity.
I knew they’d kept Andrea in that house. Why couldn’t they find any evidence of her being there?
I’d seen enough police shows to know they always found a hair, footprints, or fingerprints, maybe even a piece of clothing. But nothing? How could that be?
The spirit inside Beaumont was from another world—a parallel universe or hell, or both. He did have powers to bring a spirit from his world into a dead body and give it life. Perhaps he had the power to make evidence disappear too.
“Ret!” My mom summoned from the back window. “Time to come in.”
“Is everyone going to bed?” I asked my mom when I walked inside.
“Not yet. We’re staying up to watch the news and Johnny Carson. You can stay up with us if you want.”
I was anxious for everyone to get to bed so I could make my escape. Sheriff Packard hadn’t called me back, and that bothered me. “I just think it’s late, we’ve had a big day, and we should all get to bed.”
Mom chuckled. “Big day? You can go to bed if you like. I need to wind down first.”
Waiting for the world to fall asleep was painful. Minutes dragged on like dripping molasses. Come on!
Finally, Johnny Carson was over, credits rolled, and my mom and dad got into a long discussion about the guests on the show. I couldn’t remember the last time my mom and dad had talked decently to each other and for twenty minutes. Boy, did they find the wrong time to get along.
Fortunately, Tadd and Jeff were both gone for the night, so all I had to deal with were Mom, Dad, and Scott, who would all go to bed at the same time.
The discussion finally wound down, and then Scott said, “Mom, can you look at this sliver in my hand? I can’t get it out.”
“For hell’s sakes, Scott, can’t it wait for the morning?” Did I just say that out loud?
My mom snapped her head to me, eyes wide and lips pursed. “Ret! What has gotten into you? You need to go to bed.”
“I think we all do, don’t we?”
“After we get this sliver out of Scott’s hand, we will. But you will go to bed now.”
I sighed, rolled my eyes, and meandered to my room.
IT WAS ONE O’CLOCK in the morning before I was relatively certain everyone was asleep. As stealthily as a cat, I snuck out of my house. Avoiding every creaky spot in the floor, I put my weapons in a satchel, hung it over my shoulder, and made my escape.
The chain-link fence was a bit noisy, but I couldn’t avoid it. I landed in the field, crossed the creek, and headed for the house. It stood alone in the dark, waiting for me with its one eye lit. Beaumont and Kilborn were waiting for me too; I could feel it.
Please let her be alive, I prayed. I couldn’t help but be reminded of Andrea. My guilt over not saving her weighed heavily on my soul. If they did to Dawn what I imagined they would do, I would be devastated.
The air was crisp, with a cool, quiet breeze. I crept to the side of the house, where a small window sat just above ground. It was the window to the basement. I wiped muck and film away from the glass with my sleeve, which didn’t clean it much, but enough
to get a blurry vision of the interior.
I saw the sparkling pool. Its blue radiance illuminated the room, and my goal was single-minded: finding Dawn. I saw her legs. She sat farther to the right of my point of view, so all I could see was her bottom half. She wore jeans and white tennis shoes. I was positive it was her.
For what seemed like a century, I waited for movement. Then her foot shuffled, and she bent forward enough for me to see her red hair. She was blindfolded with a wide strip of burlap, and I couldn’t see her hands, which led me to believe they were tied behind her.
Relief coursed through me. She’s alive!
A rank smell reached my senses first, a stench of rotted flesh mixed with formaldehyde. Then I heard grunts and raspy, quick breaths, followed by the sound of saliva being sucked in and out of someone’s mouth, like a vacuum that didn’t have enough power to extract water. The thing approached me, shuffling the weeds behind me.
I reached into my satchel, withdrew one water pistol, and spun around. The thing grabbed me by the throat, lifted me off my feet, and slammed my back against the side of the house before I could defend myself. It was a large man with grotesque pasty-blue skin. Fat and bald like the Dee Burger clown, he had dark rings around his eyes, and black sludge dripped from his mouth. Blue veins webbed his face, neck, and arms. The stench of death hit my face like a truck. He cocked his head as he looked at me quizzically. His eyes were bloodshot, and he coughed, flinging black droplets onto my face. He choked as he breathed in air.
Gun in hand, I twisted my wrist, aimed it down at his face, and squeezed the trigger. The salt water hit his eyes and face. His eyelids fluttered, and he paused then squealed in pain as the salt took effect.
He released me. I dropped to the ground, bounced up to my feet, and ran for the back of the house. I pulled out the second gun and double-fisted both of them.
A lady in a flowered dress, only one foot in a high-heeled shoe, came around the corner. Mud and scrapes covered her arms, legs, and face, and her curly hair looked like a matted wig. She hobbled on uneven legs, gasped, and clawed at the side of the house with one hand to help her balance. At her side was a tall man. He was thin and elderly, with a balding scalp. His crisp dark suit was too small. It was probably the one he’d been buried in. His eyes were wide and confused, his fingernails long and dirty. He was busy looking at his surroundings before he focused on me. Then his face scrunched into snarling rage, and he growled.