by Jerry Hart
* * *
Owen and Curtis ran out into the hall and immediately saw what was causing Doug so much grief.
Daniel Hudson was shambling across the living room, toward them. The sight was horrible. Owen was rendered speechless. With the exception of the debris he was walking over, Daniel made no noise. He didn’t appear to breathe at all. His dead, glazed eyes looked at them.
No, he wasn’t walking toward all of them; he was walking toward Owen. Doug was still on the floor, crying hysterically and kicking out at his brother, who wasn’t close enough to receive them.
Daniel was definitely making his way toward Owen. Curtis was busy trying to help Doug to his feet, but Doug was making it difficult.
Hoping to buy some time, Owen backed into the hallway, past the bodies of Norrack and the old woman. He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know what was happening. Daniel was dead, yet he was here, walking before him.
Thinking back to the zombies in the park, Owen had noticed that they all had the same dark tears running from their eyes. Daniel didn’t share that characteristic, though Owen knew the orb was responsible for this.
He pulled off the backpack and took the orb out. He held it in front of him so Daniel could see. Daniel stopped shambling immediately and gazed at it. Owen felt sick to his stomach. Seeing one of his dearest friends like this was more than he could handle. Owen couldn’t think. He didn’t want to have to hurt Daniel, but if he proved to be as violent as the others had been, he’d have no choice.
Curtis gave up on Doug and was standing at the other end of the hall from Owen. Owen knew he was trying to think of a way to help, but nothing was coming to him.
Everything was quiet for a moment; Doug had resigned himself to silent sobs. Daniel continued to stare at the orb in Owen’s hand, as if waiting for something.
Then he started walking toward him again.
“Stop!” Owen snapped.
Owen, having been startled by Daniel’s sudden movement, shouted the command reflexively, and Daniel obeyed. Owen immediately remembered the dream he’d had after being knocked out at one of the softball games: He had held the very same orb up to a weird furry slug and ordered it to kill another creature. The full power of the orb was still beyond him, but he was beginning to understand some of it. It clearly had the power to control people’s actions, and now, just maybe, had the power to raise the dead.
He shuddered as he thought of this. What was the purpose of this orb? Why would his dad build such a thing? Did he even build it in the first place? Nikki had told him this much, but he still couldn’t believe it to be true.
Daniel, who had walked so quietly one wouldn’t know he was even there, was still looking at the orb, unmoving. Owen could only think of one thing to do, but it was a long shot.
“Daniel,” he said to the pale boy in front of him, “go to sleep and never wake up.”
Daniel gazed at Owen with those glassy eyes for only a moment. Then he collapsed.
All was still once again. Curtis stared at Owen with wide eyes. Owen stood at his end of the hall, separated from Curtis by Daniel’s dead body. He was afraid to move; afraid a single step would awaken Daniel once again.
Finally, he overcame the fear, stepped over him and stood next to Curtis. He didn’t even realize he’d been holding his breath during the trek until he let it out in a sudden burst.
“Are you all right?” Curtis asked him.
Owen nodded and looked down at Doug, who had his knees up to his chest and was rocking back and forth like a child. After quickly stowing the dark orb into the backpack, he helped Doug to his feet.
Moments later, the three of them were standing in the front yard, taking in as much fresh air as they could. The house had become a suffocating and awful place.
“What the hell happened in there?” Curtis asked.
“I don’t know,” Owen said as he leaned against the brown car parked in the driveway.
“He went straight for you,” Curtis pointed out. “He did what you told him to do. And you’re telling me you don’t know what’s going on?”
“I told you to go home,” Owen said defensively. He didn’t like Curtis’s accusing tone.
“I’m looking for my friend, damn it. Remember?” Curtis yelled.
Doug was staring at the house. Owen walked up to him and grasped his shoulder.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” Doug said quietly.
“I’m sorry about what happened. I’ll call someone to handle this.”
Doug reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. He pulled a small white card out. “Call him. He’s the officer who told me my brother was dead. He was nice.”
Owen took the card and noticed the name Patrick Fisher. That name sounded familiar.
“What was that thing you were holding?” Curtis suddenly asked. Owen looked at him but didn’t answer. “You said back in Baker that those zombies were after it. Why?”
“That’s what I’m trying to figure out.”
“You seemed pretty sure of that thing just now, and at the park. You know more about it than you’re letting on.”
There it was again—that tone. Owen wanted Curtis to go away. He didn’t know where his friend Marco was, and was about to tell Curtis to search the house if he wanted, but then he remembered Alyssa. She might be here as well.
He kept his mouth shut.
Pulling out his cell phone, Owen was about to call the officer on the card to handle Daniel’s body, when his attention was called to the old car he’d leaned on earlier. He wasn’t sure why he was suddenly fascinated by it, but he couldn’t take his eyes off it.
“What is it?” Curtis asked, noticing Owen’s interest.
Owen gave him a quick glance, then looked back to the car. Sticking his phone back in his pocket, he walked over and looked through the windows. There was nothing remarkable about the interior. The seats were splitting open. Stuffing spilled out.
He then walked to the trunk and stared at it. Something in the back of his mind told him to open it.
Curtis was by his side in a heartbeat; Doug was still staring at the house.
A horrible stench came from the trunk. Curtis smelled it and backed away. Owen could see that he was coming to the same realization.
“They’re in there?” Curtis asked.
Owen nodded and slid his fingers through the crease of the trunk lid. His breathing quickened as he prepared himself.
“Do you have a key?” Curtis asked.
“Don’t need one,” Owen said, then he pulled the trunk open, breaking the lock. The stench hit them like a bag of nickels. The air was warm and wet.
The inside of the trunk was dark. Owen couldn’t see what was there. Then he realized he was looking at a black blanket. Something was underneath it. He reached down, grabbed the blanket (he could feel something solid underneath), and pulled it away.
Curtis immediately turned to the side and threw up in the yard. Owen stood frozen at the spot, looking into the trunk. He wasn’t aware how long he did so—time just seemed to stop.
Inside the trunk were two bodies, one headless. The heap was a jumble of arms and legs. Owen almost couldn’t tell what belonged to whom.
Then he saw purple nail polish on one of the hands and knew it to be Alyssa’s. Then he saw her pale face, eyes open. Time started to catch up. He was no longer in his time bubble, which caused him to be trapped with this horrific sight. He collapsed on the spot, hitting his head on the driveway.
* * *
Doug hardly heard anything that was going on around him. He was only faintly aware that Curtis and Owen were talking somewhere behind him. When Owen said he would take care of Daniel’s body, Doug had responded, as if on autopilot, by giving Owen Officer Fisher’s card. Then Doug had said something. He couldn’t remember what, though.
It probably wasn’t important.
What was important was that his brother’s body was rotting inside this house, rotting alongsid
e the body of an old woman and a young fat guy. Earlier, he had been comforted by the thought that his brother was being cared for. Now…
Doug Hudson was feeling a lot at the moment. On one hand, he felt the agony of seeing his dead brother walking into the house. On the other, and for this he felt selfish, he kept thinking of himself in Daniel’s place. That was a downside to having a twin: It was like looking into a mirror.
And then it had all come back to him. He remembered Daniel, and that he was dead. And that’s when he’d started screaming.
He suddenly realized he was standing in the front yard now. Owen’s and Curtis’s voices were starting to make sense.
“They’re in there?” Doug heard Curtis ask.
Silence. Owen probably nodded, Doug thought.
“Do you need a key?”
“Don’t need one,” Owen replied.
A few seconds later, Doug heard a lock pop. And then he heard someone throwing up. That’s when Doug turned around and saw Curtis on the ground, puking his guts out. Owen was standing just behind the car in the driveway, staring into the trunk. He wasn’t moving.
Doug started to walk over to him when, all of a sudden, Owen collapsed. Doug heard the soft thud of his skull smacking the pavement. He ran over to him to see if he was okay.
Owen’s eyes were wide open, staring at the sky. He was breathing rapidly. Curtis had ceased vomiting and was at Doug’s side.
“What happened?” Doug asked Curtis.
“Their bodies are in the trunk,” he said, casting a quick glance at the car.
At first Doug didn’t understand. Then it hit him. He looked over at the car and suddenly it was way too close for comfort. He wanted to get away from it, away from what was inside the trunk. Most of all, he wanted to get away from this house.
Doug Hudson wanted to get out of this neighborhood, where death lived.
* * *
Curtis Merriman couldn’t read minds, but at that moment he felt he and Doug were thinking the same thing: Get the hell out of here. Curtis liked to think he wasn’t easily shaken, but the moment he caught sight of his best friend’s body, he completely lost it. Marco’s head was missing; blood had dried on his light-blue shirt.
There had been another body in there as well. It had to be Alyssa Turner. Curtis didn’t look long enough to know for sure. The two bodies looked like they’d just been thrown in the trunk without much thought or care. That infuriated Curtis beyond belief. He wanted to get away from this place. He’d seen five dead bodies in such a short period of time—five bodies too many.
And then the most horrible thought came to him, and he felt ashamed: Instead of wanting to find the guy who did this, he wanted to run away from him.
* * *
Owen felt a dull pain in his head where he hit it on the pavement. He was breathing hard and couldn’t stop himself. He stared up at the stars in the sky and wished he could be up there instead of down here where all this death dwelled.
Curtis and Doug were looking down at him, but Owen didn’t look back. They didn’t matter to him right now. Nothing did. Owen didn’t want to deal with anything anymore. He didn’t even want to go back to his hometown, like he’d planned, to find out more about the orb that was causing all of this.
The orb his father supposedly built.
It was that thought that knocked Owen back to Earth. The orb, which was in the backpack he was wearing, was propping him up since he’d fallen back on it.
He finally looked at Curtis and Doug. They’d both lost people important to them, just as Owen had. Michael was responsible for it all.
Him and his brother Jason. Brothers of chaos.
Owen found the strength to sit up. He was going to put an end to what was happening.
“You okay, bud?” Curtis asked quietly.
Owen nodded and put his face in his hands. “Sorry about that.”
“It’s okay,” Curtis said kindly. “If you hadn’t done it, I would’ve.”
Reaching into his pocket, Owen pulled out his cell phone. He dialed the number on the card.
* * *
Patrick was heading to the police station when his cell phone rang. He didn’t recognize the number on the caller ID, but he answered anyway.
“Is this Officer Fisher?” a male voice asked.
“Yes.”
“I found your card,” said the voice. “You’re not going to believe this, but I need you to come to 4312 Fairington Drive. There are dead people here.”
“Is this a prank?” Patrick asked uncertainly.
“No, sir, it’s not.”
“Why are you calling me specifically? Who is this?”
There was a long pause. Then the voice said, “I’m calling on behalf of Doug Hudson. You spoke to him earlier about his brother Daniel…”
“With whom am I speaking?” Patrick asked again.
“Owen.”
“Owen what?”
“Just Owen.”
“Is Mr. Hudson with you?” Patrick asked.
There was a brief pause, then the voice said, “They both are.”
“Both?” Surely Patrick misheard.
“Yes, Officer. I don’t know how to explain it, but Daniel is here too. Could you come here? You can bring backup or whatever, but Doug wanted me to call you first.”
“May I speak to Doug, please?”
There was another pause, and then a familiar voice said, “This is Douglas Hudson.”
“Mr. Hudson, what’s going on?”
“To be honest, I have no idea. I’m at some guy’s house and there’s all these dead bodies.”
“Whose house?”
“Some guy named … Les Huntington.”
“How many bodies are there?”
“Five.”
“Do you recognize any of the bodies, besides your brother’s?” Patrick asked. Five bodies?
“Yes: There’s Les and an old woman—I think it’s his grandma; Alyssa Turner and … Marco Garcia.”
Patrick dropped the phone. It fell somewhere by his feet. Alyssa Turner? He reached down and picked up the phone.
“I’m sorry, did you say Alyssa Turner?” His hand was trembling.
“Yes, Officer.” Doug’s voice was calm.
“What was the address, again? 4312…”
“4312 Fairington Drive,” Doug finished.
“I’m on my way now, Mr. Hudson. I suggest you stay there until I arrive.”
“Yes, Officer.”
The line went dead.
* * *
Owen stood in the hallway. Daniel hadn’t moved an inch while they were outside. Owen reached out and touched Daniel’s back. The skin was cold. Now he touched Daniel’s head. It was warm, and Owen could swear he felt a trembling, like a tiny motor was running in Daniel’s skull.
There was no doubt in Owen’s mind that Daniel was dead, but that didn’t mean he was off.
“He’s on his way,” a voice said behind Owen, making him jump.
Doug and Curtis were standing at the other end of the hall, too afraid to approach. Owen nodded and walked past them, heading for the front door.
“Where are you going?” Curtis asked him.
“There’s stuff I have to do.”
“Does this ‘stuff’ have to with that ball?” Curtis was eyeing the backpack.
“Yes,” Owen said, adjusting himself so the pack was no longer visible.
“So you’re just going to leave us?”
“Nobody knows you’re here,” Doug said. “The officer we called only knows about Owen and me. You can go home.”
“No, I can’t,” Curtis said angrily. “I can’t go home after all the stuff I’ve seen tonight. My best friend is in that trunk with his head ripped off and I want to know why.”
“I don’t know why,” Owen said.
“Save it! Every time you whip that ball out, strange crap happens. I want to know what it is.”
“I don’t know what it is,” Owen said. “That’s why I need to go—
to figure it out.”
“Where are you going?” Doug asked quietly.
Owen hesitated, then said, “My hometown.”
“Where’s that?”
Owen didn’t answer Doug. He didn’t want them to know. He darted out the front door, back to his car down the street. He could hear Curtis right behind him.
“Get back here!” Curtis yelled.
Owen was well ahead of him, though. He jumped into his car, started the engine and sped off. Curtis kicked the car as Owen passed him.
* * *
Curtis jumped into his truck and was heading after Owen when Doug jumped in his way. Curtis stomped on the brake, stopping only an inch from him.
Doug jumped into the passenger seat. “I’m going with you.”
“Good,” Curtis said and sped off. After a few minutes, they were on the freeway. Owen’s car was in sight.
* * *
The brown-haired boy with the tear-stained face had just approached the house when two vehicles left in a hurry. He was on foot but surprisingly fast. He had followed them all the way from the condo downtown and he would follow them now, wherever they were going.
He would follow because the orb was calling.
* * *
“Oh, Daniel,” Alyssa said as they watched the scene unfold in the blue lake. Together they had seen what happened to Owen and the others at Les’s house. With horror, Daniel watched his dead body walk into the house of its own accord. Daniel had to shut his eyes a few times during the ordeal, but he always wound up opening them again to watch.
And then Alyssa had seen her body in the trunk of the car. Both of them were understandably upset and nearly regretted watching. At least they knew now what was going on. There had to be some closure to that. Right?
“Well, I guess I don’t have to worry about that weird feeling anymore,” Daniel said as nonchalantly as he could. He didn’t feel any better, however. What was going on down there?
“I can’t believe Michael just threw me into that trunk,” Alyssa said. She was horrified. She didn’t really remember the moment she died, luckily, having been thrown against an alley wall with great force. Daniel didn’t remember his death either. Small mercies. “We should keep an eye on Owen, to make sure he doesn’t end up like us,” she added.