The only thing to do was forget about it. She dialed up the wall thermostat, trying to raise some heat. After a combination thump-hiss, the floor heater started to kick up some stale, warm air. There, that would help ease things a bit. Although it would take more than that to chase the chill out of her bones.
Inspecting the bedrooms, she noticed the beds had linen in all three. After choosing the smallest room, she flopped down on the double bed, staring up at the motionless ceiling fan. She didn’t expect Sebastian to join her soon, or at all for that matter. Right now, he was acting like a fussy baby who refused to be picked up—a tiny mind on the verge of a tantrum. She wouldn’t refuse his embrace, but she felt certain he would ignore her hugs. It would be the first time she would sleep without him in her arms. Even though they hadn’t been together very long, the thought of their disassociation gave her a heartfelt pain.
The stress of the last week had all come to a head. She succumbed to complete exhaustion. There was no easing or drifting off into sleep. She passed out.
###
She awoke to the shake of her foot. Sleepy-eyed, she caught sight of Sebastian’s back just as he left the small bedroom. She threw her legs over the bed, then looked at the unruffled pillow beside hers. Her boyfriend hadn't slept in the room. He had either stayed in another bedroom or slept on the living room couch. It hurt to be shunned. She rubbed her temples, trying to ease a throbbing headache.
She went to the kitchen for a drink of water. She found a bottle of aspirin on the counter. It seemed she was not the only one suffering from a headache. Looking through the window, she noticed it was dark. She glanced at her watch. It was eight in the evening, a very long time for her to have slept. She washed down three tablets, then entered the living room.
Chubby had his feet up in a recliner, wearing a smile. “Hi, Avy. Did you sleep okay?”
She glanced at Sebastian, who sat on the couch watching the TV at low volume. “Pretty good, I guess, considering everything. I think that once you get a whiff of the Wax Man he stays in you like some poison.”
Chubby nodded. “Yeah, we were both sick. I blew chunks like a baby. Dinner will be here in a minute. Sausage pizza with garlic bread.”
Wonderful, she thought. Nightmare food. She wouldn’t fit into an assistant’s costume anytime in the near future if she kept eating high calorie takeout food. She sat down on the extreme end of the couch, looking at the program that had captured Sebastian’s attention. It was a live breaking newscast. An artist’s sketch took up the upper left-hand corner of the screen. The reporter droned on about the recent officer fatalities along with the search in progress. The sketched figure looked like some troll out of one of Grimm’s fairy tales. Of course it was their fault since it had been their eyewitness description that made the rendering possible.
The doorbell rang. Avy answered it, and accepted two pizza boxes from a young uniformed officer. He picked up three drink containers from the porch stoop, then followed her to the kitchen. He asked if there would be anything else. Avy said, “No. Thanks for your trouble.”
While the young officer was leaving, he said over his shoulder, “It’s just a matter of time before we get him.”
Avy had to reheat the food. When she finished, she brought it into the living room, wearing oven mitts. They spread the pizzas on the small coffee table, and ate silently as they listened to the news. She would have liked another channel, anything to get away from the subject matter, but the TV set was an old black-and-white model with rabbit ears. She assumed that the other local channels would be running the same news report. From what the reporter said, Raleigh had never experienced anything like this before. She noticed nothing was said about the circumstances surrounding the deaths of the officers—no mention of a lethal pathogen. The reporter advised that residents should report the whereabouts of the wanted suspect without approaching him.
“That’s going to raise some eyebrows,” said Sebastian “Nobody is going to be afraid of that character. If anything, it’s going to draw a bunch of vigilantes out looking for him.”
“Morbid curiosity,” Avy said, disgusted.
They watched the television reports late into the night, their bellies full of sausage pizza and diet Coke. Avy followed the news of the hunt, taking note that Chubby had fallen asleep in his chair. Sebastian followed ten minutes later, his nasal snores settling into an annoying rhythm. Having slept most of the day, she still had some nervous energy. She changed the channel, finding one that had a late night sitcom. Watching the slapstick antics of the actors allowed a tiny smile to crack her face. It had been such a long time since she’d smiled.
###
The officer had just washed down a doughnut with a sip of coffee. He had removed his mask to eat and carry on a conversation with his female partner. He looked to his left, checking the front part of the house again, just like he had done dozens of times before. A dingy forty-watt bulb illuminated the small porch.
“All clear,” he muttered to his partner. “Nothing suspicious to report. Again.”
“Tough shift,” she said. “I could think of a thousand assignments I’d rather be on right now other than getting all bleary-eyed on a boring stakeout.”
“There’s nothing to see out there.”
“Tell me about it. I’m sitting here eating maple bars at a thousand calories a pop. I can feel my butt growing by the minute.”
“Wanna fool around?”
“That’s all we need right now. Getting collared for fraternization. Bulmer would bust us down to horse patrol, then have us mucking out stalls.”
“Chances are we won't get caught. At least massage the back of my neck.”
She reached over, plied her fingers against the base of his neck, and began to knead the muscles.
The male officer groaned, glanced in his rearview mirror. He saw a human form in the distance. A streetlight twenty yards away back-lit the silhouette of a uniformed officer heading in their direction on foot. He blinked. “We’ve got a uniform approaching from behind. Hey. Don’t take your hand away. Chances are it’s a rookie—what’s he going to do? Tattle?”
“Then hide the donuts,” she said in a husky voice. She smoothed her hand over his shoulder.
The male officer gave her a playful moan, turned the key to the “on” position, then rolled down his driver’s window. “I’ll get rid of him.” He could see the lower half of the officer getting closer in his side mirror. He turned his head in anticipation and looked up. The uniformed officer stood there for a while, his upper half obscured past the roof line. A powerful stench entered the car. The male cop made a face. “Jesus Christ, rookie.”
The mystery cop ducked down to look through the window, showing a broken-toothed grin.
The male officer’s voice caught in his throat when he saw the hideous face.
“Tag, you’re it,” said the mystery officer before he thrust his hand through the open window, catching the female’s fingers and the male officer’s neck with the same touch.
The female was the first to die. She fell into the lap of her partner. The male officer threw his head back, his body stiffening. Then the convulsions came. The last thing he saw was the tan headliner of his car. Then he knew no more.
###
The hour-long comedy ended. It had provided a small reprieve. Avy had even laughed out loud a few times. She decided to clear the empty food containers off the coffee table. She picked up the mitts, put them in her teeth, then reached for the boxes.
The doorbell rang, followed by a light knock.
She spit out the gloves, then dropped the boxes. Both men stirred. She crept to the front window and pulled back the curtain. She saw a uniformed officer on the porch, facing away from her, head down. He looked like the same one who had delivered the pizza boxes.
“Who’s at the door?” Sebastian grouched.
“Police,” said Avy. She walked to the front door and unhooked the latch. When she opened the door, a wave of stench rolle
d over her. The second thing that accosted her was the ghoul-like face sporting a collection of broken teeth in a slobbery maw. She stepped backward holding her breath, too far away from the door to slam it shut.
The Wax Man gave her a mock salute. “I was listening in on this, which clued me in on your whereabouts.” He wiggled a hand held police radio. “Care to dance with the devil?” He held out the other hand in invitation.
Avy backpedaled so fast her sneakers chirped over the varnished floor. She shrieked an alarm. The men reared up from their seats. Sebastian fumbled for his derringer. Chubby stooped, grabbing the oven mitts, then stepped in the middle of the living room, cutting off the Wax Man’s advance. He shoved his hands into the mitts and braced in a boxing stance.
The Wax Man shut the front door with a backward kick. “Fat boy want a little punch fest?” He advanced toward Chubby. “That was a very bad thing you did to Judas.”
Sebastian straight-armed his derringer, cocking the hammer. “Eat this!” He fired. The gun bucked in his hand. The bullet struck the Wax Man dead center in the chest, knocking him backward. He regained his stance, advanced again. Sebastian fired a second time, making what should have been a lethal hit, but the bullet left no more than an oblong smear on the uniform over the stomach area.
“He’s wearing a vest!” Chubby yelled.
Avy ran to the kitchen, grabbed a fistful of knives from the drawer and returned. She pitched them at the intruder, almost hitting the man, save for one that bounced off his shin. Sebastian picked up a sofa cushion to use as a shield.
Chubby lunged, swinging with a powerful uppercut. The Wax Man’s head rocked, spittle flying in ropy strands. Chubby charged him, swinging vicious punches, driving the foe toward the front door. The Wax Man planted a foot backward, kicking off the wall with his hand outstretched. He grazed Chubby across the forehead. The large man staggered backward for a moment, then collapsed to the floor.
“Get out of the house, Sebastian!” Avy screamed, backing toward the kitchen.
The Wax Man glanced at Sebastian, but then trained his colorless eyes on Avy. He stomped across the floor after her. She ran through a small laundry room, slamming the door behind her. She stepped out the back door, then positioned herself facing toward the house. Concentrating, she waited for the laundry door to burst open. When it did, she Walked. She arrived at the front door. She opened it, stepped through and knelt down to check on her fallen friend.
Chubby lay on his side gasping, trying to catch his breath. He choked out words. “Run, Avy, get away. Don’t touch me. It’s over.”
Sebastian ran to their sides. He tried to help Chubby up, but the large man had lost all muscle control and his eyes had rolled back in his head. He had a few last words for them, but they came out with gags. “Gah, go to your mother. Promise me. Tell her I believe—that I loved—” He closed his eyes, his breath leaving him in a shuddering wheeze.
“I promise you.” Avy squealed. “Oh God!”
The Wax Man came though the kitchen doorway, spotting the two kneeling on the floor. “So you’re a Walker,” he said. “I should have known this wasn’t going to be easy.”
There was no time to think about staying behind. Chubby lay lifeless on the floor. The Wax Man stood twenty feet away from them. Avy knew that in the next instant he would charge across the living room.
The couple rose to their feet, then scrambled through the front door. They ran across the lawn toward the parked Jeep.
With a last spark of defiance, Chubby thrust a feeble hand out when the Wax Man leapt over him. Losing his footing, the villain tumbled onto the porch, striking his chin on the concrete.
Sebastian fumbled with the keys, his hands shaking with such tremors he missed the ignition slot. Avy watched the Wax Man pick himself up, then begin to trot across the grass. She grabbed the keys away from Sebastian, stuck them in the ignition, turned it, and started the vehicle.
The Wax Man gained the street then angled off, trying to intercept the moving Jeep. He dove at the rear gate at the precise second Sebastian popped the clutch. The Jeep made a wild lurch. The Wax Man fastened a grip on the loading gate, toes dragging across the asphalt.
“Faster.” Avy yelled. “Weave—throw him off!”
Sebastian punched the accelerator, shifting gears. He yanked the steering wheel, almost colliding with a parked car. He made a sharp left turn, bringing the Jeep up on two wheels, then straightened it out.
They couldn’t throw the man off—the grip was tenacious.
Avy pulled a high-top tennis shoe off, then crawled to the back. She slammed it repeatedly on the black fingers with all the strength she could muster. With a final blow, the grip broke. The Wax Man hit the pavement, tumbling into the street end over end. Avy pitched the shoe away. She made her way back to the front passenger seat.
Sebastian looked at her, missed a shift grinding the gears. “I’m sorry, Avy. I couldn’t concentrate. I could have saved him. I just couldn’t concentrate.”
She wasn’t paying attention. Other terrible thoughts consumed her. The sight of Chubby lying on the floor tore unmercifully at her. In a few seconds, the tremors came upon her and she began to cry, her shoulders shaking with great heaving sobs.
“It’s okay, Avy, I’ll get us out of here. I won’t let him hurt you.”
That’s what Chubby had told her, she realized with horror. He had vowed to protect her with his life. Now he had honored that promise by paying the ultimate price. She shuddered to think how many more police officers had given up their lives. Even a helpless old dog had perished. It was fate. Destiny, God, angels—there were no such things that held sway over demons. She hated them all. She raised a fist into the breeze, shaking it like a hammer. “I hate you, Janus.” she called out. “I hate you most of all. Do you hear me? You allowed all of this—all of this because of me!”
The tears flowed until she lay back against the headrest, spent. The stars overhead winked at her, but she saw no beauty in them. She didn’t believe in them anymore, not even wishes upon them. Not now. What’s more, she didn’t believe in herself, convinced that she should never have been born. All of it, everything that had gone wrong, the deaths, misery, loss, had all been her fault.
She slammed her eyes shut, feeling nothing inside. Her only sensations were the swerves of the car. She couldn’t care less where they ended up. Some place far away, she hoped. Away from humanity, away from people that could be hurt. By her.
“No one can protect us now,” said Sebastian over the engine. “We’re on our own. I’ll get us there. I’ll keep us safe. I won’t let you down again.”
###
Avy opened her eyes. The car was no longer moving. She heard two sounds—the chirp of a cricket, mixed with Sebastian’s voice.
“We made it,” he said.
She leaned forward in her seat, squinting to focus in the dark. She could see nothing, save a cloak of black. After her eyes adjusted, she could just make out the gray mass of the water tower, standing like some fat bowlegged giant amongst the trees. Sebastian appeared at her side of the car and scooped her up in strong arms. He carried her to the old wooden ladder, then put her down.
“We’ll be safe here,” he said. “Let me help you, honey.”
She didn’t understand the change in him. She still felt numb—didn’t care much. But she began to pull herself up the rungs in a halfhearted attempt to climb, allowing him to spot her from behind. An incredible weariness came over her, and it took all of her strength just to move up the ladder. It seemed like her spirit had given up. Thoughts of letting go to fall to her death danced in her head like evil little muses, daring her to end all of the madness. Too late. She’d reached the top. He led her inside the tank, sitting her down upon a stale mattress that smelled of urine.
“I’ll be right back, Avy,” he said in the darkness. “I’m just going down to bring some things up, then stash the car. I love you, babe. Hold tight.”
She drew her knees up tight int
o her chest, indifferent to his sentiment. She listened while Sebastian made several trips up the ladder, hauling up camping gear. The temperature inside the metal hull hovered around fifty degrees. She had no jacket to ward off the chill. She had left all her personal items behind. They had no cellphone to call the authorities. They had no way to report what had happened to Chubby, or what they suspected had happened to the officers who had been guarding them. Of course, they were all dead. How could they not be?
She looked around in the darkness, fighting off a shiver. How long could they last in such a dismal, unforgiving place without going mad? Spurred on by his vendetta, would the Wax Man run them to ground again?
Sebastian returned, draped a comforter over her shoulders, then lit the wick on a small Coleman lantern. He turned it down to a tepid glow that provided enough light to see each other, along with their surroundings. He sat next to her, his armed curled around her waist. She ignored the gesture, her body incapable of feeling anything like comfort.
“I know it looks bad,” he tried. “I didn’t know where else to go. I wasn’t thinking straight. Maybe I should have taken us to the police station. I guess I just panicked.”
She didn’t speak. She heard his words but didn’t want to interpret the meaning. She wondered if he was just trying to make her feel better. Maybe his attempt at reconciliation made him feel better. Right now, she didn’t trust anybody. Why should she?
“I’ve got the car hidden,” he said. “We’re safe here until I can figure out what to do. If it’s any comfort, you chopped off one of his fingers. I found it in the Jeep bed. I flicked it out with a stick, then kicked dirt over it.”
She had nothing to say. She fell on her side, drawing the blanket over her shoulders. She could feel him cuddle close. It sent a chill up her spine.
###
She had no concept of the passage of time. No clue how many days they had spent inside the water tower. She did nothing more than sleep or take occasional sips of water. In spite of Sebastian’s pleas, she refused to eat from the small plates he had offered her, including the MREs he had found in Chubby’s camping gear.
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