by Hart, Jerry
He and Dad stayed at Uncle Johnny’s house while Uncle Johnny was in the hospital. As it turned out, Mom had only bitten Don’s uncle on the neck, and the wound wasn’t life-threatening.
In the last week of May 1998, Don stood on the landing between floors in the tower of Augusta High, staring out a large window. There was a playground next door to the school, and he watched from afar the kids playing and having fun. Suddenly, he remembered his own childhood: building snowmen in his front yard with Nick; playing Nintendo with his friends in the playroom of his childhood home. Don remembered clearly the wide windows and white-tile floor, and how the Christmas trees always shed on that floor. And how he, Ethan and Mom (and sometimes Adrian) would sweep up all the needles together.
Don quickly wiped the tears from his cheeks when he heard footsteps behind him. When he turned, he saw Monica standing on the landing with him. She had been coming from downstairs.
“Hey,” she said.
“Hey,” he replied. “What are you doing here?”
“I heard you were taking your geometry final today; I wanted to see you.” She paused for a moment. “You never returned my calls.”
“I’ve been staying at my uncle’s house,” he said simply.
“Oh.” Another pause. “How do you think you did on your finals?”
“I’m pretty sure I failed geometry.”
She laughed, and so did he.
“I’m not going to ask what happened,” she said after a while. “I am going to say I wish it didn’t happen.”
It was all Don could do not to cry in front of her; her words were very touching. “Thank you,” he said as best as he could.
“So, uh....” Monica suddenly seemed at a loss for words. “Will I ever see you again? After you move, I mean.”
Now he was the one at a loss. It was really hitting him now, what he was leaving behind. Finally, he said, “I think you will.”
Monica smiled. “I do, too.”
Together they stood at the large window on the landing in the tower of Augusta High. It would be a long time before they saw each other again.
Part 3: 2007-2009
Chapter 15
The man approached the mall, not knowing why. He was just drawn to it, to the people inside. Something was going on in this place and the man wanted to find out what. It was night, and no one noticed him as he walked into one of the four entrances. This one was near the movie theater, which was now closed for good. The grilles were nearly all the way down, the inside lobby pitch black.
At this late hour, the mall was not very busy. It wasn’t busy during the day, either. This place was on its last legs, it seemed. The building was long and narrow, shops on either side. On each end was a department store, both also closed. The man could see a Macy’s or Sears or something to his right. Down at that end was some kind of light show: green lasers and fog billowing up from a particular store on the right.
The man now realized what had drawn him here. It was a horror-movie convention of some kind. Local, with no celebrities or anyone else who mattered. Just displays and merchandise and fans.
A group of teens passed him, made up of two boys and one girl. The girl was locking arms with one of the guys, and she was dragging him to the horror store. The man followed the group, as if he belonged with the kids.
The man watched the group stand outside the store, a dark arch serving as the entrance, draped with black curtains. They ducked into the store and, a moment later, the man followed.
Inside, there were displays set up next to each other. There were more lasers, not just green but red and blue as well. And even more fog. The man looked at one display in particular. It was for a movie he enjoyed as a kid—a long time ago. A TV was set up for the display, showing footage from the horror flick. There was merchandise scattered in front, toys and masks and fake knives.
The man looked over to the group he had followed, saw them make their way to the rear of the dark store.
An hour passed, and the mall closed for the night. The shoppers were gone...except for the trio of teens, who finally left the store room where they had hidden.
The man watched from behind a curtain by one of the displays as they approached the glass door of the store.
“We’re locked in!” one of the guys said, worried.
“No, we’re not,” said the girl. “I used to work here. The lock is broken. See?”
She pushed on the door and a loud click followed. The man watched them walk into the main area of the mall, but the door didn’t close behind them. He made to follow them, not knowing why. He just wanted to be near them.
The door clicked after him, echoing down the long stretch of mall. The man leapt behind a fountain just as one of the boys said, “What was that?”
“The door probably didn’t close all the way when we left,” said the girl.
They continued on their way—the man could hear their footsteps—and he stood to follow once again. The lights were as dim as they were when he arrived at the mall, but now there were no lasers or fog. The entire building was so quiet.
“What about security?” the girl’s boyfriend asked.
“Rosie barely gets her fat ass out of the office over there.” The girl pointed to the right, behind the food court. “She usually starts her rounds after two, so we have at least four hours to ourselves. The guy who’s on now already did his last rounds, and Rosie will be here at midnight.”
“They should have never fired you,” one of the guys said. This was the first thing he’d said since leaving the horror store. He seemed like the third wheel, shy and out of place.
The trio passed the food court, heading toward the department store at the other end. The man could see it from where he was, a large, black opening. There were no security gates or doors; it was open to anyone from inside the mall. The man could see an escalator as he drew closer.
He tried to catch up to the trio. He was tired of being alone. Though he was a little older than them, he figured they would invite him along. He was, like them, someone looking for a little fun in an empty building. He just wanted to greet them, to be friendly to them.
The girl was pretty. Her blond hair was pulled back in a ponytail, her jeans tight, showing off her wonderful curves. The tail swished from side to side as she bounced down the mall. She kept her boyfriend’s arm around her shoulders, laughing at something he said. The other boy looked around at their dim surroundings. He seemed nervous.
“By the way,” the girl said, “I wasn’t fired; I was laid off. This whole building is getting bulldozed in a year or so.”
“Whatever, Trish,” said Third Wheel, almost looking back at the man following them. “I really don’t think we should be in here.”
“Jesus, Danny, if you didn’t want to come, you should have stayed home. You’re an embarrassment of a brother,” Boyfriend said.
Danny fell back from the group a little.
“You’re an asshole, Marcus,” Trish said to her boyfriend. She looked back to Danny, probably to see if he was okay.
That was when she noticed something behind them. She gasped and broke from her boyfriend’s embrace. The boys turned. The man turned as well, though he wasn’t sure what they were looking at. He thought he heard something from near the food court, but it was dim down there.
Laughter. That’s what he heard. Something was coming from the darkness of the food court.
“Run!” Trish yelled. Everyone, including the man, ran.
The man could hear the laughter echoing throughout the mall. It sounded so close. He was too afraid to look back, to see what was following them. “Wait for me!” he yelled to the group. Trish screamed as they ran into the large department store. Danny fell flat on his face. Marcus turned back to help his brother, but when he looked up, he yelled and ran the other way. Whatever was chasing them must have been terrifying to look at if Marcus abandoned his brother to get away from it.
Danny didn’t look up, nor did he even try to s
tand. He covered his head with his arms. The man wanted to help the boy up but found he couldn’t stop. He continued on, seeing Marcus and Trish try to get out through the exit doors.
“He’s coming!” Trish screamed at her boyfriend. “He’s going to kill us!”
The person—or thing—chasing them must have passed Danny and kept on going as well. It must be right behind the man, but he couldn’t turn to look.
“Not if I kill his ass first!” Marcus pushed himself off the doors and raced toward the man. He was a big teenager, probably played football. The man trusted the boy to take care of their pursuer. He tried to get out of the boy’s way, but found himself going forward, never slowing.
Marcus was going to run into him if he didn’t move.
The teen punched the man right in the face. For a moment, the man was stunned. Why was Marcus attacking him?
The man tackled the teen before he could stop himself and wrapped a hand around his throat, holding him down. Why was he attacking Marcus? The man could hear Trish scream from up ahead, so he looked up. She had her hands over her mouth, her eyes wide. The man heard choking noises but didn’t know where they were coming from. He looked behind him, expecting to see their pursuer, but he only saw Danny, still lying in his protective position.
The man looked back to Trish, who was now running up the escalator to the man’s right. The man looked down at Marcus, wanting to apologize. He noticed his fingers were digging into the boy’s throat so deeply. The neck looked like a toothpaste tube squeezed from the middle. Marcus’s face was dark, his tongue sticking out.
He was dead.
The man was on his feet—and hands, he noticed—as he raced up the escalator. He realized with horrible acuity the kids hadn’t been running with him; they had been running from him. As he reached the top floor, he remembered this wasn’t the first time someone had run from him.
He had forgotten entirely, but it all came rushing back now. It always came rushing back.
The man didn’t see Trish among the abandoned display cases and clothes racks, but he knew she was close. He could hear her breathing. He headed straight ahead, hearing someone shuffle away from him.
He saw Trish’s rear end behind a counter. The man wanted to apologize about killing her boyfriend. He hadn’t meant to. He just didn’t want to be alone anymore. He just wanted friends.
He tried to approach her, reaching out to her with his hands—the hands that killed her boyfriend. Trish screamed. He saw her standing behind the counter, staring at him with even wider eyes than before. “Please don’t kill me,” she pleaded.
“I don’t want to kill you,” he replied, and he meant it. “I only want to greet you.”
He made his way to her. She screamed again, for the final time.
Her body fell to the first floor. Her scream was cut off abruptly when she hit. The man went back downstairs and found Danny still huddled on the floor, at the border of the mall and department store. He was shaking like a leaf in the wind. The man stared down at him.
“I’m sorry about your brother,” the man told Danny. “I had a brother too, once.”
Danny didn’t have a chance to scream.
* * *
It was in the year 2007 Don Scott turned twenty-five. It had been nine years since the death of his mother and the “abduction” of his little brother by the monster. Not a day went by Don didn’t think of that terrible night, but he learned not to let those events ruin his life.
His first two years in Texas were rough. Besides the nightmares, unpredictable crying, ulcer flare-ups and occasional dizzy spells, his relationship with Yvonne came to the breaking point. They just didn’t like each other, plain and simple. Dad attributed his son’s health problems to the stressful events years before and turned a blind eye to the arguments between son and wife. Yvonne used to yell at Don for every little thing, from doing the dishes properly to watching movies with the volume “too loud.”
At the time, Don had his TV set up in the lounge on the second floor of Dad’s spacious two-story house, which he had bought in early ’98. The house had four bedrooms and a nice kitchen, with cream-colored carpet throughout. Don had been surprised by the house when he finally moved there that summer.
After way too many complaints from the stepmom about the volume, Don moved his TV into his room. It was this very room Don and his friend Craig stepped into one night when a familiar, irritating voice called from the foyer. “Don!”
He sighed and looked over the railing to his stepmom. “Yes?” he said in a sugar-sweet voice.
“You have some nerve bringing company over when you still have yet to take care of this kitchen.”
“I’ll get it in a minute,” he replied. He looked back at Craig, who was setting up a videogame and pretending not to hear.
“Next time, you better take care of the dishes before you go out,” said Yvonne, her eyes bugging out.
“Okay,” said Don. He then walked back into his room, closed the door, and said, “What a fucking bitch.”
Craig laughed. “You don’t get along with her, do you?”
“I don’t see why I should. She’s a whore.”
Craig handed him one of the gaming controllers and they began playing a shooting game. They had only known each other for a few months, having met in junior college. They both loved movies, though Craig was more into independent films where as Don enjoyed big Hollywood blockbusters. When it came to cinema, they got along like sand and water.
They were still in their spring semester, Don taking a plethora of classes along with filmmaking (the class in which he’d met Craig); Craig was taking only filmmaking...for the third time. When Don asked him why he chose to take the same class so many times, Craig said it was his favorite, and it was practically free—he was good friends with the teacher.
“I’m surprised she’s not nicer to you,” said Craig. “Considering what happened to you.”
Don continued shooting the onscreen aliens; he didn’t want to talk about that. “I should have never told you,” he said quietly.
“You practically told everyone in class with that script you wrote. I was just the only one to figure out it was about you.”
“Yeah, but I should have never confirmed it.”
One of the assignments had been to write an unsigned twenty-page script about anything. The teacher then gathered all of them and passed them to random classmates. Don didn’t even realize what he had written until Craig read the words to the class.
The script centered around the confrontation between Mom and Dad. Don had transcribed the events exactly as he remembered them. Luckily Craig had thought the most incredible parts to be fiction.
“You ever think about moving out on your own?” Craig asked him after a moment.
“All the time, but I can’t afford it.”
“I would think you make pretty sweet money working security at that mall.”
“You would think,” Don echoed.
“Do you ever get scared, working there at night?”
Every night, Don thought. “No,” he said.
He didn’t want to tell Craig he feared Ethan would creep into the mall one night. Don had only started the job two months ago, and so far he’d had no strange encounters. Supposedly, homeless people would sneak into the closed-down movie theater inside the mall, but Don hadn’t caught any. Yet.
“Hey, uh....” Craig seemed nervous all of a sudden. “My roommates are dating and they’ve been fighting a lot; I think they’re going to break up pretty soon. If they do, and Corey’s girlfriend moves out, Corey and I will need a new roommate.” He paused. “Would you be interested?”
Don paused the game and looked at Craig. The boy had curly brown hair and a hound-dog face that made him look older than his twenty-six years. “I’ve never lived on my own before,” he said to Craig. “And I’ve only known you for a few months.”
“Yeah,” Craig said doubtfully. “It was a dumb idea. Forget I said anything.”
Craig smiled. “Awesome.”
* * *
Don thought about the conversation he’d had with Craig as he headed to work the next night. The Northchase Mall was a small, ancient place on its last legs. Most of the stores inside had closed up, and the few that remained were merely waiting until their leases were up. It was a very depressing place to work.
It was also mildly unsettling.
Don parked his truck just outside the loading dock that served as the entrance for security. Another car was in this little parking area—the officer Don was relieving. It was ten to midnight when Don walked into the mall, dressed in his crisp black uniform.
The security office was located just inside, in a bunker-type area that probably would have survived a nuclear blast. There were no windows and cell-phone reception was pitiful. But Don never had anyone to call at midnight anyway.
“Hey,” said Rosie, a redhead twenty years older than him. She sat at a computer, playing Solitaire.
“Hey. Anything special happen while I was away?” He’d been away for two days.
“An alarm keeps going off, but it’s always a false.” She glanced at the control panel next to the computer. “Just hit ‘silence’ if it does it again. Be ready for it to go off; the thing is loud as hell and will scare the shit out of you.”
“Will do.”
“Oh, and all the doors are closed. Just finished checking them.”
Rosie hefted herself from her seat, gathered her belongings and exited the office, leaving Don alone. He sat in the vacant chair, still warm from her big butt, and pulled out a few videogame magazines.
He also pulled out a soda and a bottle of energy supplements. The supplements were originally used to assist in his daily workouts at the gym; now they were used to help him stay awake during his graveyard shifts. He knew he wasn’t supposed to mix the pills with other sources of caffeine, but taking them with the soda gave him an incredible boost.