Lost

  Immediately his phone jingled—a picture. His wife had snapped a picture of herself… naked. He moaned.

  Wearing nothing but my new earrings! Miss you!

  Walter sat up straight.

  “Please, God. Just let me make it home. Please,” he said aloud.

  * * *

  Ethan crept into the master bedroom, but he didn’t see her in there. She must still be in the bathroom.

  He took one last breath and called out, “I know what you are.”

  Silence. The breaking glass had stilled.

  “YOU!” And she filled the doorway.

  “Holy shit!” Ethan muttered.

  She seemed caught between two worlds. She walked upright, her face was still beautiful, but her shoulders had hunched-forward, powerful muscles rippling under the skin. And her hands…

  He flashed back 20 years ago to those hands. Claws at least four inches long were where her fingers should have been. And she ran them along the wall. A screeching sound filled the room, and Ethan struggled not to flinch.

  “No weakness,” he told himself.

  “You have no clue what I am!” She spat out at him.

  A feeling of calm settled over Ethan. He accepted whatever was going to come. If he died, he was going to die trying to do the right thing.

  “No, I know exactly what you are. I remember what you are—what you did!” Ethan fired back at her, rage building within him.

  She looked at him—those strange silver eyes piercing. But she didn’t laugh. She seemed to sense that he was serious. He was willing to sacrifice himself—if it meant taking her down. And she took a step back.

  That one step bathed her in shadows, but he could see her change. She was smaller now—nothing more than a beautiful woman. She stepped toward him again.

  “Officer, I’m sure there’s something we can do here. I just want what’s mine. That’s all. Give me what’s mine, and I’ll leave,” she offered.

  “And you’re gonna find what you lost in this woman’s bathroom?” Ethan asked. Was this woman, this thing, really trying to bargain with him?

  His sarcastic tone angered her, and she brought her hand down, shattering the thick counter of the vanity. “I want my son!”

  Ethan had jumped at the loud sound, but stood his ground. “Lady, or whatever the fuck you call yourself, I guarantee you, your son isn’t in this bathroom.”

  The woman stood there staring at him and didn’t move. She tilted her head to the side, appraising the gun he had trained on her. And then she moved.

  She moved so fast that Ethan didn’t even have time to fire. She knocked the gun out of his hand and stood in front of him, power spilling off her in suffocating waves. Ethan removed the knife from the sheath at his hip, and when she reached for him, he buried it deep in her shoulder.

  She roared in pain and flung him against the wall. His head swam, and he felt sick.

  “Get up!” She roared again. “GET UP!”

  Her eyes glistened. Her hands changed back to those he remembered from all those years ago. She smashed the door to the closet, which had been shut, and a hole appeared in the center of it.

  Ethan shook his head, trying to clear it, and got to his feet. She hadn’t bothered to remove the knife, and it stuck out of her. Ethan looked around for his gun. He didn’t see it, and he picked up the lamp on the table next to him instead. He threw it at her, a last ditch effort.

  She swatted it aside. “Really? Stupid...” She taunted with an ugly laugh and came at him again.

  This time, Ethan anticipated her move, and he ran toward her, unsure of what he could do, but knowing he was running out of options. She growled furiously, and he met her tone with a bellow of his own. She slashed out at him with her claws, and he felt pain blossoming through his chest. She shoved him aside. He put his hand to his chest, and it came away crimson.

  Ethan sank to the ground, and she came over to him. She squatted down, and he tried to back further into the wall. She reached out and traced a nail down his cheek. When he looked up and met her eyes, she leered at him.

  “I just want what’s mine,” she said, reasonably. “He’s my son. He belongs to me.”

  And with that, she ripped Ethan’s knife from her shoulder and brought it down, burying it into his outstretched leg.

  But Ethan remained quiet, biting his tongue and refusing to cry out in pain. He wouldn’t give this bitch the satisfaction.

  “Fuck you!” He told her.

  She laughed. It was a foul sound. She leaned in and whispered in his ear, “Oh, officer. I’d eat you alive.”

  Her warm breath tickled his cheek, and he tamped down the vomit that threatened to come up.

  He turned to her and peered into those silver eyes. “Eat shit and die.”

  * * *

  It had been almost 15 minutes since Cindy had sent him the picture, and maybe 20 since Ethan’s text. Walter was getting restless. Ethan was the one with the “gut,” as Cindy used to say. Ethan had “feelings,” and he was right more often than not, but occasionally, Walter sensed something.

  It was one of those nights.

  He leaned forward and looked up at the moon. A deep red hue had settled over it. And it looked bigger, closer. He took a deep breath and tried to calm his nerves.

  He sat back in his seat and watched Julie Klevan dance happily in her kitchen. And he waited.

  His phone went off, almost scaring him.

  She’s Coming.

  Ethan had texted. Walt let out a strangled breath and leaned against his steering wheel. And just like his friend, he prayed.

  “Please, Lord. Let me see my Cindy again. Watch over Ethan and give me the strength to do what I need to do tonight. Save this family, from whatever is coming.” Walter said all of this out loud and sat up.

  He was ready.

  Chapter 86

  “No. Enough!” Sam laughed as the girls begged for one more treat.

  “Please, Sam? We could all share a funnel cake?” Jessie looked at him and batted her eyelashes.

  Sam was a sucker when it came to his little sisters. “Okay, but only one! Everyone shares!”

  Sam, Karie, and the girls had finally met up with Carey, Jimmy, and Ant. It was only 9, and no one wanted the night to end.

  Carey went up to the window and ordered a funnel cake, and they waited for it to be ready.

  Chapter 87

  He was standing in the shadows again. The other children had joined the oldest boy and the girls.

  He watched as one of the boys took a funnel cake and went over to the rest of the group. They were sitting at one of the tables that had been set up. The kids picked at the treat and laughed, but he saw one of the little girls clutch her stomach.

  Chapter 88

  “Sam, I don’t feel good,” Jessie said, sadly. She had gone a sickly shade of green.

  “Crap.” They all knew what this meant, and sure enough, Jessie leaned over and let loose.

  “Oh no.” She started to cry, and she covered her face with her hands.

  “No, sweetie. It’s okay.” Karie stroked her back and leaned over, taking her in her arms.

  Sam stood up. “I’ll go get the car. You guys stay here.”

  And he ran off into the night.

  Chapter 89

  He was torn. The boy had left the group, and he knew that the older boy was the real target. But the little girl sounded so sad. Her crying pierced the fog that swirled in his brain.

  “I want my Daddy.”

  He heard her moan softly, and the older girl just continued to rub her back. He watched the little girl, and suddenly, time seemed to still.

  He saw a beautiful woman holding out her hand for him to shake, as he held a tiny baby clasped to his chest. He saw her looking down at him, tears rolling down her cheeks, and a huge smile on her face. He saw her in a beautiful white dress. He saw her, her belly swollen with child. And he saw her struggling to give birth to that child.

  Images filled his mind
, and he knew.

  He fell to his knees and let out a pitiful wail, but no one heard him over the sound of the carnival.

  He saw her smiling at him, as she handed him their son. And he danced with her in the moonlight. Images of them buying groceries and swimming in the lake came to him.

  “Julie.” He was crying now.

  He looked back at the little girl with the stomach ache, and he wanted to reach out to the little girl.

  “Jessie.”

  And then something came to him. Something in the night called out to him. Something he’d thought was dead and gone.

  “Hannah!”

  And he ran toward the lake house, praying he could save his family.

  Chapter 90

  Julie Klevan was washing dishes now. She was still singing along, though he couldn’t tell to what.

  Walter had gotten out of his car and was walking around the house. He felt like a pervert. Peeking in on Mrs. Klevan as she did her thing, except he knew what was coming.

  Chapter 91

  She was getting closer, and he let the change come. It made him faster.

  Chapter 92

  “I’m sorry, Sam,” Jessie said softly. “Sorry, Karie.”

  “Honey, there’s nothing to be sorry about.” Karie turned around, as Sam drove everyone to the lake house. “Almost home.”

  Chapter 93

  Walter felt it before he saw anything. He was moving around the house, trying to see into the shadows, when he felt a shift—just like he had 20 years ago.

  He saw something move out of the corner of his eye, and he swung toward it, drawing his gun.

  She walked out of the shadows, and Walter just stared.

  She hadn’t aged—not one bit. She was still young, still beautiful, and she still scared him.

  “It’s you,” she said to him. Her voice was sweet—like she was talking to an old friend. “I should have known we would run into each other. After all, your friend did try to kill me.”

  Walter just stared. He knew what he had to do, but no words came.

  “Nothing to say?” She wasn’t more than ten feet from him. “I killed your friend. Now, it’s just you and me.”

  And she leaped at him, covering the distance like it was nothing.

  Walter fired.

  Chapter 94

  Ethan had tied a pair of women’s pantyhose around his leg. The wounds on his chest were bleeding, but they didn’t seem to be too bad. His leg on the other hand… not so good.

  She had plunged the knife into his leg, stood up, and walked away. He knew exactly where she was going. He’d texted Walt, and then crawled over to the destroyed dresser, looking for something he could use to stop the bleeding.

  The pantyhose was what he’d come up with. Ethan stood and made his way down the stairs as quickly as he could. He needed to get to the lake.

  Chapter 95

  “What the hell?” I dropped the glass I’d been washing when a gunshot filled the air.

  I didn’t think. I just threw open the door. And then I saw him.

  “Officer Petterson? What are you doing here?” I asked. What the hell is going on?

  He turned toward me when I called his name. In the darkness, I saw a hand shoot out at him. Blood bloomed on his light blue shirt, and my hands flew to my mouth. I ran to the officer and caught him as he fell.

  “Oh my god. What are you doing out here?” I looked around frantically. What just happened?

  “You need to go…” The man in her arms told her, blood bubbling out of his mouth. “Get inside… Lock—”

  “No, don’t talk. It’s okay.” I struggled to get my cell phone out of my pocket. My head was flying around, trying to see from where the danger was coming from.

  “NO!” He said, spittle flying from his mouth. “Get… away!”

  Something came at me from behind and threw me away from the fallen officer.

  I landed on the grass near the fire pit, the wind knocked out of me. My phone flew from my hand, and I didn’t see where it landed.

  She came into the light.

  “NO!” I screamed.

  Chapter 96

  “Fuck it!” Ethan muttered to himself and flipped on his lights.

  He gingerly stepped on the gas. The pressure of doing so caused a sharp pain to shoot up through his leg. He touched the wound, and his hand came away crimson.

  “Fuck!” Ethan said again. “Fuck, Fuck, FUCK!”

  He smiled bitterly. If Walter had been here, he’d tell Ethan to watch his mouth.

  Instead, Ethan yelled once more and pounded the steering wheel. He was pushing 100 miles per hour, but it was still taking too long.

  “Hold on, buddy. I’m coming.”

  Chapter 97

  “YOU BITCH! I knew it!” I yelled at the woman in front of me. Rage was making me shake, and I stole a glance at the injured officer lying on the ground.

  “You know NOTHING!” She yelled back at me.

  “I know you left your son, Hannah. I know you left and never looked back. I know Brian looked for you, for months! Well, FUCK YOU! Sam’s my son.” I was crawling over to Officer Petterson as I yelled at her. I took him in my arms. “What did you do?”

  “I did what I had to do.” She laughed, and I shuddered. Her madness was coming through loud and clear.

  I felt sick. “It’s going to be okay. Hang on.” I placed my hands over the dying man’s chest and willed life back into him. “It’ll be okay.”

  I didn’t know what to do. I rocked the man in my arms and prayed that someone had heard the gunshot.

  “Where’s my son, Julie?” Hannah walked over to us, pulling something out of her pocket.

  I tried to crawl away, tried to pull the officer with me.

  “She’s going to kill us.” His voice sounded strong, for just a second, as if he had to get it out. “Don’t tell her…”

  I nodded. “Walter, right? You’re Detective Jeffries partner.”

  “Walter… yeah.” He sounded weak, and I felt blood pump out into my hands. I hugged him to me feeling powerless.

  “You are fucking insane. You’re a crazy bitch, and I’ll die before I tell you where Sam is,” I said this to her calmly, because I knew Walter was right. It was obvious she was going to kill me anyway. I could offer this last bit of hope to my son.

  She was only about five feet from us, and I saw her stroke something in her hand. “This should’ve been my life! Brian and I would’ve had a glorious life. Look!” She waved whatever it was she had in her hand. “And instead, he settled for this! For you!”

  I was able to make out a picture. It was the seven of us—me, Brian, and the kids—at the beach a few years back. It was worn, and only Brian and Sam were still visible. The younger boys, the girls, and I…

  “You’re fucking nuts,” I told her. I struggled to my feet and tried to pull Walter back with me. He moaned in pain, and I fell back to the ground.

  “You are going to die.” She reached toward Walter, and I watched in horror as her hand seemed to shift, or morph. I heard bones creaking, and it sounded like they were breaking. I flinched with each sound. I watched as Walter tried to sit up, tried to move to better shield me. And I watched him pull a second gun from the back of his pants.

  Instead of turning it on Hannah and firing, he slid it to me and pushed it under my folded legs. And then he lunged at Hannah.

  Rage tore from his throat, and he swung at her. He landed a punch to her right cheek, and then he fell to his knees. Blood was flowing freely down his chest, and I thought I saw something slip from his stomach.

  Hannah danced away.

  I crawled over to the fallen man, hiding the gun as best as I could. He was going to die, and I didn’t want him to die alone, in the dirt.

  “I’m sorry.” I took him in my arms, his blood flowing over my arms. I didn’t bother trying to stop the flood of tears. “I’m so sorry.”

  “No, we… we should have stopped… her… 20 years ago.” He coughe
d and blood flew from his lips. “Tell him… If Ethan… If he’s alive… tell him…” He took a deep breath. “Gets jalapeño business.”

  I wasn’t sure I heard him right, but I promised. His breath was coming fast and shallow.

  Hannah just stood there watching, a sick light in her eyes, and a smirk on her beautiful face.

  “Sick bitch,” I spat at her.

  * * *

  I heard a car coming fast, and then light turned into my driveway.

  NO… the kids are home!

  Hannah swung toward the sound, but it wasn’t my van.

  “What did you do?” Ethan Jeffries, adrenaline flowing, flew out of his car and ran to his fallen friend.

  I was crying now. Walter Petterson’s eyes looked hollow, but he smiled as his friend fell to his side.

  “Listen up you rotten, old prick. Don’t you die on me. You fucking fight.”

  I knew what he was doing. He was trying to shove some of his rage, some of his strength, down Walter’s throat, but he was too late.

  “Hey… You, you take care of my Cindy, okay?” Walter, was gripping Ethan’s shirt now, pulling his friend down so that he could hear him. “You remember… that night… I… I didn’t finish my joke.”

  “What?” Ethan was crying, trying to stop the bleeding. “What are you going on about?”

  “It gets... jalapeño business… You know… my joke—nosy pepper.”

  Ethan let out a strangled laugh. “Please don’t—”

  And then he was gone. Almost 26 years, they’d been together, and now Ethan was alone.

  “FUCK!” Ethan shrieked. He sat back and struggled to take a breath.

  I looked over at Hannah, who was watching the scene with a grin.

  “Okay. He’s dead now,” she said calmly. “Now tell me where my son is!”