An extended murmur.
Eleanor gasped in outrage. “You think I would joke about something like this? That I'd make it up, looking for attention?”
This time the answering buzz was louder, but still too low for Lucy to hear.
“Get your head out of your ass, Harold. This has nothing to do with this morning. I am in danger. Your daughter is in danger. If you care about us at all, you'll come get us.”
Silence.
“Harold?”
More silence.
Eleanor sighed, her angry expression giving way to something akin to despair. That more than anything made Lucy afraid. She'd never seen her mother show any emotion that could be mistaken for weakness. “Harold, please. We're inside the pharmacy. The police won't come get us, and I'm afraid.”
A soft answer.
“Twenty minutes? You'll be here in twenty minutes?” Eleanor slumped as the tension left her body. “All right. We'll wait.”
Another low buzz.
“Yes, yes, here she is. Hold on.”
Her mother handed her the phone, a gesture so unexpected Lucy nearly dropped the precious gadget in her excitement. “Daddy?”
“Hey, sweetheart. How's my beautiful girl holding up? Are you okay?”
“I'm okay, Daddy. So's Mommy.”
“Good, good. Listen, I'm on my way to fetch you guys, all right? I'll be there soon, and then we can straighten this whole mess out.”
“Please hurry,” Lucy begged, her heart beating faster at the thought of seeing her father again.
“I will. Love you, sweetheart.”
“Love you too.”
The line died, and Lucy stared at it for several seconds before handing it over with reluctance. Her mother pocketed the cell phone before turning to Cairns and Jared. “Well, it seems we'll stay here until Harold arrives.”
Cairns nodded. “Good, good. That might be best.”
“What about you, guys?”
“I'll wait to see you two off, and then I'll make a run for my truck,” Jared said. “Sue will be worried, and I should get to her as soon as I can. Make sure she and the kids are safe from whatever this thing is.”
Eleanor nodded. “Thank you, Jared. I appreciate it.”
He sighed. “I think we'll all be grateful when this nightmare is over.”
Eleanor resumed her pacing, waiting with palpable impatience for Harold to arrive. Lucy meanwhile, tried to stay out of her way. It was hard to sit still, though, as excitement caused her legs to bounce up and down on the chair. She kept checking the clock on the wall, her eyes following the minute hand as it crossed the ivory face. One, two, three, four. Time seemed to slow down as she waited, each minute longer than the last.
Finally, twenty minutes had passed. Her eyes jumped from the clock to the door and back again, waiting. Nothing happened.
Twenty minutes became twenty-five.
Then thirty.
Forty.
Fifty.
At last, an hour.
Eleanor, who had grown increasingly upset as the time passed, now threw her hands in the air. “I knew it. He's not coming.”
Lucy's lips opened to utter a denial, but not a single word surfaced. Where's Daddy?
“I should have known we're not important enough for him to make an effort. Just this once, I'd like to have seen him come through for us.” Eleanor glared at the clock in rage as if she blamed it for Harold’s tardiness.
“Perhaps, he met with some trouble along the way?” Cairns offered.
“Oh, please. He's forgotten us like he always does. Heaven forbid his wife and child should need him.” She swung toward the door. “No, if I want saving, I'll have to do it myself.”
“I'll come with you,” Jared said. “Make sure you get into your car safely.”
“Thank you, that means a lot to me.” Eleanor dug her car keys out of her pocket and gripped her steel pipe with the other hand. “Come on, Lucy. Let's go.”
Lucy wanted to protest, wanted to say that her father would never forget them, never abandon them. She tried to tell her mother to wait, to be patient. But the seed of doubt had sprouted, planted by her mother's callous words and the hands on the clock. Her father was late. He wasn't here, and he hadn't called.
Without willing them to obey, Lucy's legs moved toward the door, following her mother. She had no one else, after all. No one.
Her mother looked out into the street before letting Cairns undo the lock. “It looks clear. We can make a run for it, I'm sure.”
“Let me go first, then you and Lucy follow. Once you're in your car, drive home and lock yourselves inside,” Jared said. “I'll make for my car straight after that. Cairns, you lock behind us and sit tight. This should all blow over soon.”
“Will do,” the pharmacist replied with a bob of his head. “You be careful now.”
Jared Burns pushed open the door and jumped through the opening with his ax held at the ready. He looked around before he gestured to them to follow. Lucy gulped as she stepped over the threshold, her skin pebbling with fright in the open air. Her eyes swiveled as she looked for the monsters.
Together, they ran across the street, hurrying toward Eleanor's parked car. They made it without incident, and for a second, Lucy believed they'd be all right. That hope was shattered when a white truck hurtled down the street, zig-zagging across the lanes as if the driver had no control over it.
It almost collided with their car before crashing into a lamp post two parking spots down. The screech of tearing metal and shattering glass ripped through the air, sawing into Lucy's sensitive ears. Her eyes fixated on the off-white color of the old Nissan's paint job and the faded red sticker on the back bumper. She recognized it straight away.
“Daddy,” she screamed as she ran.
“Lucy, no!” Her mother's fingers brushed across her skin but failed to catch hold.
Lucy sprinted toward the crashed car, ignoring her mother and Jared's calls to return. It was her Daddy, and that was all that mattered. She reached the driver side and reached up to pull on the latch. The door swung wide, and her father fell out. He landed on the asphalt with a heavy thump.
In the passenger seat, slumped over the dashboard, lay the figure of a girl. Her tight brown curls were matted with blood, her caramel skin smeared with more of the stuff. Lucy stared at the girl for a slow second. Who is she?
Her father stirred, and she forgot all about the girl. She hurried forward to help him up. He struggled on the ground like a fish out of water, his movements awkward. “Daddy, I'm here.”
His head swung up, blood-spattered and grinning. He growled at her, teeth bared in a vicious smile. One arm swiped at her feet, seeking to grab her. Lucy danced back, a shrill scream bubbling from her lips. “Daddy, no!“
But Daddy wasn't Daddy anymore.
He was a monster.
And he wanted to eat her.
Lucy backed away from the swiping arms of her father. He advanced, closing the distance between them. In his eyes, there was no love, on his lips, no tender words, in his arms, no hugs of solace.
Only death.
Jared barreled past her with the ax raised high. For a brief moment, all became still. It offered a single nugget of time for Lucy to realize her father was gone and Mr. Burns was about to kill him.
The ax sunk into her father's crown down to the hilt. Blood and brains sprayed from the cut, misting the air. The weapon lodged in the skull and resisted Jared's efforts to pull it free. Lucy wanted to launch herself at him, wanted to scratch his eyes out for killing her father. She didn't. Instead, she allowed her mother to pull her away from the grizzly sight.
“Come on, sweetie. Don't look.” Her mother's voice was surprisingly soft, tender even, and filled with sorrow. “Don't look, baby. I'm so sorry.”
Lucy blinked and turned away.
She almost wished she hadn't.
The crash had drawn out every monster in the vicinity, all of whom were now running straight for them
. Eleanor retreated toward the curb, her feet finding the edge and stepping over. She pulled Lucy with her until their backs hit the wall. Her voice rose to a near screech. “Jared!”
He turned toward them and assessed the situation. Already the sick people had cut them off from their cars and the pharmacy. Cairn's frightened face watched them through the glass front, too far away to help them.
Jared pointed toward the door of his shop, only a few meters away. “Get inside! Now!”
They sprinted toward it, Lucy's little legs going as fast as they could. Her breath rasped through her lungs. It's too far.
They fell through the opening with seconds to spare and slammed it shut behind them. Jared attached the chain before fumbling in his pocket for the key. The sound of the lock sealed them inside as vicious faces pressed against the glass.
They were trapped.
Chapter 5
Lucy backed away from the front of the shop on legs that had gone numb. They held no feeling in them, just like her heart. Her mother and Mr. Burns hurried to block the door and windows with anything they could grab.
While Lucy understood what they were doing, she didn't care. Everything that mattered was gone. Caramel, her father...everything.
The image of his face swam in front of her eyes. It had looked like him, familiar and comforting, yet not him with the mindless hunger that contorted his features. It even smelled like him, old spice and cigarettes, yet not him with the sweet whiff of sickness that emanated from his skin. What happened to Daddy? Why did he get sick? Why?
She scurried to a corner and huddled between a stack of old cardboard boxes and a display rack with her arms wrapped around her knees. Silent tears streamed down her cheeks to drip onto her already soiled clothing. The once pretty dress she wore was now ruined. Scuffed and dusty, just like her shoes. She plucked at the polka dot material with absent fingers. In the background, her mother and Mr. Burns exchanged comments in hushed tones. She listened even though she didn't feel like it mattered.
“Do you think they can break through the glass?” Eleanor asked.
“I doubt it. This is safety glass. Cost me a pretty penny back in the day.”
“Where did they all come from? A half hour ago the street was empty.”
“I think...” Mr. Burns paused and scratched his beard with a thick finger.
“Yes?” Eleanor prompted with an impatient tone.
“I think they're like predators.”
“What does that even mean?”
“It means they're hunting.”
“Hunting?”
“Yes, hunting for food.”
“And we're it?”
Mr. Burns shrugged before casting a glance at Lucy. She shrank further into her nest, hiding her face in her arms, and he continued. “Yes, we're the food. That much has become pretty clear.”
“What does that have to do with anything?” Eleanor paced away from the shop front, her feet once more wearing invisible grooves in the floor.
Jared followed and placed a restraining hand on her forearm. “It means they'll go where the prey is. They seem to follow stimuli like loud noises and movement. That's why they came so fast. The crash drew them.”
Eleanor nodded, her expression thoughtful. “It makes sense.” Then she turned away. “Not that it helps us now. We're trapped.”
“Maybe not,” Jared replied. “I think if we're quiet and stay out of sight, they'll lose interest and wander off in search of easier food.”
“You really think so?”
“Yes. Now, why don't we go to the back of the shop and all have a rest? I'm sure things will look better in the morning.”
“Thank you, Jared,” Eleanor replied. “You've been a real help today.”
“No problem.”
As Eleanor turned to walk away, he said, “Do you want to talk about Harold?” She paused, chin stiff and shoulders braced. When she didn't respond, he added, “I mean, I'm here if you want to talk about it.”
“I don't. Thank you for your concern.”
“What about Lucy?”
“What about her?”
Jared paused, his mouth agape. “She just lost her father, Eleanor. Don't you think you should comfort her?”
Eleanor's eyes narrowed. “I will take care of my daughter as I see fit, Mr. Burns.”
Lucy's head snapped up at these words, and she stared at her mother's stern features with something akin to hatred. Her mother had never cared about her. Not like Daddy had. She never told Lucy she loved her or held her when she cried. She never even tucked her in at night. Mommy doesn't care about me. She doesn't love me.
Eleanor marched toward Lucy with a stiff gait. Behind her, Jared stood stock still, his expression unreadable. He watched as she gathered Lucy into her arms and marched to the back, disappearing into the restroom.
Lucy fought for a second when her mother's hands plucked her from the floor. Then all resistance melted away beneath the burgeoning sorrow in her heart. Like poison ivy, its roots spread and took hold. Tendrils sprouted and curled around her insides, sharp-edged leaves draining blood through a thousand tiny cuts.
She felt cold tiles beneath her legs and looked around. They were in a bathroom, Mr. Burn's bathroom. Eleanor bustled around, first using the toilet before insisting that Lucy did too. Afterward, she washed her hands and face before wetting a towel and beckoning Lucy closer. “Come here, child. Now stand still.”
“Yes, Mommy.” With mechanical steps, Lucy closed the distance.
Eleanor began rubbing the dirt off her face and hands. “Are you okay, sweetheart?”
Lucy did not reply. Nor did she cry again. She was all cried out for the moment.
The cloth traveled across her dress, rubbing at patches of grime before moving to her shoes. “Look at your clothes. For heaven's sake, Lucy. Can't you take care of anything at all?”
“What does it matter?” The words burst forth in a flood of bile. “He's dead. Daddy's dead, and it's all your fault!”
Eleanor gasped and rocked back on her heels. “My fault? How on earth is it my fault?”
“You shouldn't have been so mean to him. You're always so ugly to him, to us. Maybe if you were nicer...”
“How dare you speak to me like that?”
“I don't care!” These last three words escaped in a high-pitched shriek.
Eleanor's hand snaked out and delivered a stinging slap to her cheek. Lucy raised a hand to the spot, her teeth biting on her lower lip to keep from crying out. The skin burned, but it was nothing compared to the hurt inside. She watched through brimming eyes as her mother jumped to her feet.
“You stupid child. You know nothing. The reason your father got sick is in that car. He stopped to pick up his hussy first.” A wild laugh escaped Eleanor's lips. “Yes, don't think I didn't notice she was in there with him. She's the reason he was late, and she's the reason he got sick. Serves him right, putting her before his wife and child.”
“I don't understand.”
“Then let me explain, sweetheart.” Eleanor hunched down until she was eye-level to Lucy and pronounced each word with deliberate care. “Your father didn't love us. He loved another woman. Instead of coming to save us, he went to her instead.”
“No,” Lucy mumbled as confusion set in.
“Yes. She was first. We were last. Understand?”
“No,” Lucy repeated, shaking her head.
“So forget about your father. He was anything but an angel.” Eleanor jabbed a sharp finger at Lucy. “And think twice about the way you speak to me. I'm all you have now.”
“I hate you!” These were the most potent words Lucy knew. The only way to express the bottled up hurt and anger swirling inside her.
Eleanor straightened up so swiftly it made Lucy's head swim. “That makes two of us, sweetheart. If it weren't for you, I'd never have married your cheating lout of a father. I wish to God you were never born.”
With those parting words, she stormed out of the restro
om. This left Lucy in a shivering puddle on the floor. She bit her fist and shook her head in denial. “No, no, no, no. no.”
Why was her father late? How did he get sick? Who was the lady in the car with him? Lucy didn't know what the word hussy meant, but she knew it was a bad word. She also knew it was a word her mother used a lot when she fought with Daddy. Did he really leave them for last? Was this other woman more important to him? Didn't you love me, Daddy?
Lucy lay on the cold floor for what felt like forever, torn between sadness and grief. Her mind refused to comprehend all that had happened, all that she had lost. It was too much, so she merely lay there and refused to move. The sun crept across the floor, inching its way up the wall. Night was falling, and still, she didn't move.
A loud crash from inside the shop sounded, and Lucy bolted upright. “Mommy?”
No answer except for a loud grunt.
She got to her feet, each movement slow and careful.
“Mr. Burns?”
Still no answer.
She inched across the floor.
Dread flowed through her veins like syrup.
What if the monsters got inside?
She peered around the corner but saw nothing at first, until her mother stormed toward her, mouth twisted in a snarl. Lucy gasped and backed away, slamming the door shut. She's a monster!
Eleanor banged on the door, and Lucy shrieked. “Mommy, no. Don't eat me, please.”
“Lucy? What's this nonsense? I'm not going to eat you. Open up.” The handle on the door twisted, and Lucy flinched. Her mother entered the bathroom with a shake of her head. “I don't have time for this. Mr. Burns is sick. Are you going to help me or not?”
“M...Mr. Burns?”
“Yes, Mr. Burns. Now get up, and see if you can find something to use for a pillow.”
With a shaky nod, Lucy ran into the shop. She searched with feverish haste while Eleanor wet another towel. She found a roll of mutton cloth and dragged it toward the figure of Mr. Burns. He lay on the ground, shaking and sweating, his skin an awful gray color.
“What's wrong with him?” Lucy asked.
“I don't know. It must be his wound. It's infected.”
Death's Children (Book 3): Lucy's Chance Page 3