“Not bad,” he said. The room seemed as it had been before everything went south, like an actual place you could sit and watch TV and live.
“I’ll have the whole place looking like new soon enough,” she said. “And then we can put it up for sale.”
He spun around so quickly he nearly collapsed. “What?”
She nodded. “There’s nothing left for us here. This house has been great but I think it’s time to move on, find someplace new. We can downsize a little. Hell, we have three rooms we haven’t used in years. Your father and I had planned on more children if you want the truth. But you were quite the handful when you were younger.”
“So I ruined everything.”
“Are you kidding?” She finally let go of the broom and did something else that was out of character. She hugged him. “You were the best thing that happened to us. We tried for a long time, you know. Kind of gross to hear but we wanted kids more than anything. Your father wanted someone to play with, to play jokes on. Then when you came around, everything changed. For the better of course.”
“Where are we moving?” he said, trying to conceal his quivering lip.
“We’ll stay local. This town can be a pain in the ass sometimes but it’s my home. I’ve been here my entire life. People used to make fun of me, call me The Girl Who Stayed Behind. To hell with them. I’ll live wherever I please.”
He thought about living in another house but couldn’t quite picture it. He was born here. He’d met the love of his life here, although she no longer loved him back. But maybe his mother was right. Maybe a change of scenery would be good for the both of them.
She let him go. “I know we haven’t discussed where you’re going to college yet but you’re welcome to live at home as long as you’d like if you stay local. I won’t even ask for room and board, though it would be helpful if you could take out the trash once in a while.”
He smiled. “Deal.”
“Listen,” she said. “I’ve got to work tonight. I had the day off but they called us all in. It’s Halloween and things tend to get a bit hectic, especially with those vampires running around. So let’s be careful, okay?”
His first moment of true happiness for the school year turned quickly to one of anxiety. “Yeah,” he said. “It might sound dumb but I have a feeling they’re going to raise hell tonight.”
“Doesn’t sound dumb to me.” She went back into the kitchen and began to microwave a pile of leftover bacon. “Have you decided on your costume yet?”
He shrugged. “I’ll think of something.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
The phone rang for an eternity and Alyssa crossed her fingers, hoping Abby would pick up. It was her third attempt in the last hour to reach her friend. Each time, the ringing led to voicemail and she hung up without leaving a message. It could’ve been a good sign. Perhaps her friend was just too busy to get to the phone. The calls weren’t ending in a millisecond, which meant Abby wasn’t declining her.
But more than likely, her friend was ignoring her, pretending she didn’t hear the phone ringing once she saw whose name graced the screen.
Alyssa hadn’t exactly been the best of friends these last couple months. In fact, she hadn’t been a friend at all. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d hung out with the girls, let alone talked to them on the phone. She saw them in passing at school and had a few common classes but that was it.
She’d been too focused on Busty and she saw now that was a grave mistake.
The ringing finally stopped and she prepared to hear the voicemail message again but instead Abby answered. “You don’t give up easily, do you?”
Alyssa paused, unsure how to respond.
“Give me a break,” Abby said. “You call me three times in an hour but you’ve got nothing to say? Maybe I should just hang up.”
“I’m sorry. That’s what I want to say. I’m really sorry I’ve been a psychotic bitch lately.”
“That’s an understatement. How long has it been since we saw each other?”
Alyssa tried to do the math but failed. It had been too long. “I know. I haven’t been around lately. It’s totally my fault. That’s why I’m calling.”
There was a long pause on the other end of the line. She could hear Abby clicking her tongue, a habit she had when she was thinking, trying to decide on something. She could picture it now and that’s what brought tears into her eyes. She missed her friend dearly. Maggie and the others—they were great acquaintances. But she’d known Abby the longest, had been close with her since kindergarten. She did not want to burn one of the most important bridges in her life.
“Are you still there?” she said.
Abby sighed. “Yeah, I’m here. I was just trying to keep you on your toes.”
Alyssa laughed, wiped her eyes. “Maybe you’re the bitch.”
“I’m certainly a bitch but the title of the bitch goes to you in this case. Where’s your vampire prince tonight?”
Alyssa grabbed a tissue from her bedside table and blew her nose. “Hell if I know.”
“Trouble in paradise?”
Alyssa shrugged as if her friend were in her bedroom. “Not exactly. I just decided he wasn’t good for me, you know? I haven’t been answering his texts or calls.” She pictured the argument again, saw the photo of Jeremy as she tossed it across the room, saw the glass shatter into little, tiny pieces. Most of all, she saw her mother’s tears and her father’s grief.
Abby was right. She’d most certainly earned the title of The Bitch.
Alyssa told her about the argument, about the way Busty made her feel, like she wasn’t herself. Like he was getting into her head somehow. “I know it sounds stupid,” she said. “But I just didn’t feel right around him. I’ll be the first to admit I really did like him but maybe it was my bad boy phase or something. I don’t know. I just started to feel like he was brainwashing me. I’m probably just rambling.”
“Honey, we haven’t talked in weeks. Your rambling is music to my ears.”
“Does that mean I’m forgiven?”
“You’re getting there.”
She sniffled. “How do I get all the way there?”
“Funny you should ask. There is one thing you could do for me, one final step in your journey to forgiveness.”
“I’m listening.”
“I got the strangest invitation on Facebook today. It’s for a party. You’ll never guess who it’s from.”
“I give up,” Alyssa said.
“Art Underwood.”
“Art as in Justin’s Art?”
“The one and only. His mom’s away for the weekend and he’s having a party at his place. Says there’ll be some booze and food and music. Oh, and costumes.”
“But you hate Art. You said yourself you wouldn’t get near him even if he was the last guy on Earth and you could repopulate the world.”
“Yes but a party’s a party and if you haven’t noticed, there’s not a lot going on tonight. People are too scared about your boyfriend’s little cult.”
“Ex-boyfriend.”
“Exactly. So if you’d like to put this fight behind us, I suggest you find yourself a costume and meet me at my place by seven.”
“Why didn’t I get the invitation? I checked my Facebook a hundred times today.”
“Someone sounds jealous. Do you happen to remember dumping Art’s best friend this past summer? I’m guessing you’re not that high on his invitation list. You might be on his hit list though.”
“He’s definitely not my biggest fan. Maybe I shouldn’t go then. It could get awkward if I wasn’t even invited.”
“I’ll vouch for you once we get there. He’ll let us in. Either way, that’s what costumes are for.”
She thought about having a night out, about hanging with her friends again, especially Abby. She could drop all the drama and just have fun for once. No Busty, no Justin, and no Jeremy. It seemed almost magical. Except for one small problem. “I’m grounde
d,” she said.
“For tossing Jeremy across the room?”
She nodded again and somehow her friend sensed it on the other line.
“Well, you can always apologize.”
“Already tried it. Neither of them seem satisfied. My dad just nodded and my mom said ‘That’s nice, dear.’”
“Then you’ve only got one option left. You tell them you’re turning in early for the night. Pretend you’re sick, say you’ve got your period, so they won’t ask questions. Then wait a while and sneak out.”
She felt torn between her friend and her parents. On the one hand, she didn’t want to get in any more trouble. She’d already caused a rift between her and her family. Things hadn’t been right these last few months but they’d been especially tense since the argument. If she got caught, she’d only make the problem worse.
On the other hand, there was a good chance Abby would be angry with her if she skipped out on the party. It was petty, Alyssa knew, but she was on thin ice with her friends too.
Watch out, she thought. You skate on thin ice long enough, you might just fall through.
“Did you pass out or something?” Abby said. “Or did you decide to head out early and you’re on your way?”
“Okay.”
“Okay what?”
“Okay, I’ll sneak out but it’s got to be later. Maybe around nine or so. My parents have been turning in early lately. My dad’s losing his mind at work.”
“Makes sense, all things considered.”
“I’ll be at your house no later than nine. I promise.” She winced, thinking how stupid this was.
“Better late than never. I’ll see you then.”
Call it off, her mind screamed. You can’t go out tonight. Something doesn’t feel right. Can’t you tell? It’s not the fog or the stress or the hormones. It feels like something’s coming.
She wrinkled her brow, not understanding her own thoughts but hating the way they made her flesh go prickly.
She said goodbye to Abby and tossed her phone onto the bed. Then she paced for a while, telling herself everything would work out fine. She was just being silly. She went through her clothes, looking for a costume, and then remembered she had one in her closet left over from last year. She pulled it out, opened the package, and held the skimpy dress up to her chin, looking at her reflection in the mirror.
The model on the cardboard insert, dressed as a sexy French Maid, sold the costume perfectly. Her smile hinted at something mischievous. Alyssa tried the costume on. It fit snugger than she remembered. Perhaps she’d put on a few pounds since the last time but it worked to her advantage. With her pushup bra, her breasts filled the chest area much better than before.
She spun around and observed herself, fighting off her mind’s nagging warnings if only for the moment. “Not bad,” she said. “Not bad at all.”
●●●
Officer Brad Desmond was not supposed to smoke on the job but tonight, with most of the force patrolling the streets, he didn’t much care. Besides, these weren’t your typical cigarettes. He’d recently gotten into the vaping scene and had acquired a potpourri of flavors: sour apple, black cherry, cotton candy, and—his personal favorite—tangerine.
He sat down at the desk and took a hit. The fruity taste invaded his mouth, the smoke traveling into his lungs, and soon his worries floated away.
Earlier, when he’d learned he was to be left behind for the night, his ass had been chapped. He wasn’t exactly a rookie. He’d been part of the force going on ten years but for whatever reason, even though plenty of guys had started after him, he was eternally known as the new kid. Maybe it was his freckled face, his lack of a beard, or his skinny frame.
Probably the freckles, he thought as he took another puff and exhaled a stream of tangerine smoke into the dank air of the holding cell area. Face it: you look like Dennis the Menace playing cops and robbers.
He put his feet up on the desk, leaning as far back as the chair would allow. If they wanted to go out there and face the Halloween madness tonight, by all means, let them. The emergency room would be packed and his fellow officers would be busting their asses off. Even in a small town like Lynnwood, things always got out of hand on this night. Not to mention they had an entirely new problem to deal with this year. He expected to hear of a lot more road kill nailed to doors tonight. Those cells would be filling up in a few hours.
Great, he thought. More freaks like that asshole Parkins.
As if hearing Brad’s thoughts, there was a snicker from down the hall. The kid had been talking to himself, probably cracking up at his imaginary friend’s knock, knock jokes, for the past few hours. Brad considered himself a patient man but he was nearing his limit.
“I smell smoke,” Tom said from his cell.
Brad remained quiet. He didn’t want to give in to the kid’s antics. He still found it hard to believe that psycho had been the quarterback of the football team at the beginning of the school year. How the hell did a guy like that, who had his pick of pussy and was almost guaranteed a full sport scholarship next year, get sucked into a glorified cult?
“Officer Desmond,” Tom said. “I smell smoke.”
Brad puffed and exhaled. “Is that so?”
From his spot at the desk he saw pale white fingers lock around the bars three cells down. “Yes, it’s so.”
“And what would you like me to do about it?”
“I was under the impression there was no smoking allowed on the job.”
“Kid, if you haven’t noticed, you’re in jail. You’ve got bigger things to worry about. Like being transferred to a state institution. I almost feel sorry for you. That asshole teacher probably deserved getting knocked out. I had Murray myself when I was in school. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think about popping him on occasion. Difference is, I wasn’t dumb enough to do it.”
“I don’t feel well,” Tom said.
Brad rolled his eyes. “Bullshit. You’re fine. Now shut up, will you?”
“Officer, I’m serious. I think I’m going to be sick.”
“Just aim for the toilet. I’m not cleaning up your puke.”
Tom snickered. “You got me. To be honest, I just want you to come over here and talk to me.”
“Yeah, why’s that?”
“Because I want to snap your neck and watch you twitch to death.”
Brad took one last puff and set the vape down. Now we’re talking. It might not be a night of action but we can still have ourselves some fun with this idiot. “Kid, what’d I say last time about threatening me?”
“I believe you said you’d pretend that I escaped and attacked you and you had no choice but to beat me with your nightstick.”
Brad nodded. “That’s right and that holds true tonight.”
“But there’s something different about tonight.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“Tonight you’re the one getting hurt.” The kid’s voice deepened, like it had dropped several octaves. It sounded distorted. Brad rubbed his ears but the strangest thing happened. The kid’s voice stayed the same.
He heard hissing, not unlike a snake, but when Brad spun his head toward the source, he saw the hanging bulb in front of Tom’s cell was flickering. It went on like that for a few seconds before it sparked and blew out, covering the spot near the cell in thick darkness.
He knew it was stupid but he felt a tinge of fear, his pulse fluttering. It seemed too convenient, timed too perfectly to Tom’s threat, not to mention his voice.
From three cells down, Tom Parkins giggled.
Brad could no longer see the fingers wrapped around the bars. It made him feel more on edge and he had to remind himself there was no way that moron was getting through those bars.
There was a scraping sound, like long nails running against steel. Then came a crushing, like something being slowly demolished.
Like metal being carefully bent.
He stood up from his desk, his ha
nds shaking badly. “What are you up to over there?”
There was no answer. Instead Tom giggled even faster. Brad’s bowels went cold. He could picture himself standing there, shitting his pants, actually convinced the kid had somehow managed to bend the bars with his bare bands. It was the most irrational thought he’d ever had. He opened the top drawer of his desk and pulled out a flashlight, flicking the switch and cutting into the darkness with the beam.
The first thing he noticed was the burnt bulb. The glass was blackened with soot from when it had gone out.
The second thing he noticed were the two middle bars of Tom’s cell. They were bent outwards so far that they’d actually broke loose in some places, which brought him to the third and final thing he noticed.
There was a large shadow standing not more than ten feet in front of him. Its features were obscured for a moment. The only details showing through the darkness were the two glowing eyes, both of them a dark shade of red. Not unlike blood.
The shadow moved closer, walking out of the blackness and into the flashlight’s beam. Brad saw every feature in painful detail and felt something let loose inside him. He’d been wrong in his prediction earlier. It was his bladder that gave away, not his bowels. Warmth surrounded his crotch. The wetness spread lower, drops of piss trickling down his leg. Had he been in the right frame of mind, he would’ve been embarrassed, but he was too scared for that.
“What the hell are you?” he said to the thing.
And thing was the right choice of words because there was no longer a teenager standing before him. Or a human for that matter. Tom’s voice wasn’t the only thing that had changed. His features were off somehow, exaggerated, like he was having a severe allergic reaction. His cheeks were more pronounced, as were his eyebrows. His chin and nose had grown longer and his hair had thinned in places, revealing the pale scalp beneath. For a moment, Brad thought it was a Halloween mask, some cheap latex goblin face that had been purchased at a department store, but the closer Tom got to Brad, the more he realized it was flesh, not plastic. The worst of Tom’s features were not his red eyes or deformed face.
We Came Back Page 18