At the bottom of the stairs, she turned left to where the refrigerator stood against the wall. It was an old avocado-colored Amana, their first fridge. They retired it to the basement for storing frozen pizzas, pot pies, and other frozen junk food years ago.
The fuse box was to the right of the fridge, and Rhonda shone her light on the box and opened the door. The fuse in the socket for the basement and the corresponding section of the upstairs had been removed. Damnit, she’d been after Bob to get the electric updated for years. Now she had to find the fuse.
She flicked her beam to the floor and saw the fuse on the floor near the basement wall. At first she thought maybe it had simply dropped from the box, but she realized it couldn’t have fallen to the floor because the door was shut and latched.
What if someone was in the house and had pulled that fuse out on purpose? And she was alone. Rhonda shivered and her hair stood on end.
Then a growl came from the shadows behind her. Spinning around, she saw to her left, opposite the stairs, only Bob’s workbench and rows of screwdrivers and pliers hung on Peg Board hooks. Absurdly, she thought how he hadn’t fixed anything in two months and wondered why he even bothered keeping the tools. He had even left a screwdriver on the floor. And that damned gas can he insisted on leaving down here!
There was a storage room whose wall ran perpendicular to the workbench. The door was closed. She switched the beam from the door to the window between the bench and the storage room. The glass had been smashed out.
Get to the stairs and call the cops. But don’t panic
, she thought.
More grunting came from behind the door. And that smell, churning her stomach.
She almost made it to the top stairs when the storage room door flew open, slamming against the wall like a gunshot. Powerful hands grasped her legs a second later, it seemed, and dragged her back down and into the darkness. Rhonda fought; a nail snapped off.
She turned her head and looked at her attacker, the face inches from hers, and smelled its fetid breath. Urine dribbled down her leg as her bladder let go.
My God, I can’t die like this.
Harry Pierce flicked the light switch off, pulled the keys from his pocket and stepped outside Lincoln Firearms. He then locked the door and gave it a nudge to make sure it locked. Satisfied the door was secure, he rounded the corner of the store, passing the bow and arrow display in the front window.
He walked down Barker Avenue. Crickets chirped around him, and in a driveway across the street, a girl in a pink bathing suit jumped rope and recited a rhyme he had never heard before. He smiled. Cute little thing, she was.
He reached the parking lot at the rear. As he turned to enter the lot, a flash of hot pink caught his eye. It was stapled to the telephone pole. Usually such signs advertised garage sales or church picnics, but when he read the lettering on the sign, it chilled his blood.
He looked left, then right. The only person on the street was the jump roper. He reached up and plucked the flyer from the pole, careful not to tear it in half.
As he walked toward his truck, he folded the paper and tucked it in his pocket. This was bad. Very bad.
Matt and Jill had polished off the spaghetti. After dinner, he helped her clear the table and put the dishes in the sink. He volunteered to wash the dishes but she declined, preferring to let them soak while the two of them talked.
They retired to the living room, him in a recliner and Jill sitting across from him on the plush couch, a glass of Merlot in hand. They had talked over dinner, mostly about their pasts and her adventures in nursing. She had also been engaged, but she wasn’t seeing anyone right now. That was the best news Matt heard in a long time.
She told him about the death of her father when she was young. He felt bad for her, not having a father and, from the sound of it, having a mother who didn’t approve of anything her daughter did.
“I think it’s great you’re doing what you want to be doing,” he said.
“You can’t let your parents run your life. I love my mother, but if I went to med school like she wanted me to, I wouldn’t be happy at all.”
He had deliberately been vague about his background, mentioning that his parents were deceased, his time in the military and living in different cities out west. Luckily, she had bought the line about his parents being wiped out in a head-on collision with a semi. He felt his face start to flush when he told her the lie, and hoped she couldn’t tell. Later on, when he got to know her better, maybe he’d tell her the truth about his parents.
Jill tucked her legs up under her and sat Indian-style on the couch.
“So about our encounter in the warehouse,” she said.
“What about it?”
“It’s obvious something strange happened. And you seem to know more than you wanted to say that night. So what was it? An animal? A howling psychotic?”
Matt wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand, not sure if it was the heat or his nerves making him perspire. “Do you believe in UFOs?”
“Don’t even tell me it was an alien.”
“I’m not. Maybe I should rephrase the question. Do you think that UFOs or aliens could exist?”
“It’s not impossible,” Jill allowed.
“How about other things? Loch Ness Monster, ghosts, psychic phenomenon?”
“No, maybe, and no.”
“So you’ll admit that maybe there’s things in this world that are out of the ordinary?”
“I suppose so, yeah.”
Matt swallowed hard. He had never told anyone in detail about the secrets in Lincoln, and it might convince Jill that he had gone off the deep end, but he had a feeling she wouldn’t give up until he explained.
Here goes nothing—or maybe everything
.
“Jill, the people in this town are not all ... people. That is, they’re not what they appear to be.”
“How so?”
“Underneath the skin, there’s a beast. A monster, whatever you want to call it. As far as I can tell, they prey on people who are human.”
“So, you’re talking about vampires, werewolves, something like that?”
“Not exactly.”
“And I suppose you’ve seen one of these things?”
He detected the skepticism in her voice and thought he must’ve blown it with her. Maybe she would call the Buffalo Psychiatric Center and have them cart him to the booby hatch. “I’ve seen them.”
“When?” she demanded.
He didn’t answer her for a moment, pondering whether or not he should tell the whole truth . But he had already started the unbelievable story, so why not finish it?
“Well?”
“They killed my parents. And my little brother. The Chief of Police, your friend Rafferty, was in the lead. He helped kill them all.”
Her eyes widened and for a moment he thought she might throw him out on his ass.
“I suppose you don’t want to hear any more.”
“Matt, I don’t know what to believe. You seem very nice, but this is a crazy story. On the other hand, I can’t deny that something strange happened in the warehouse.”
“You remember telling me that you noticed a strong smell when that guy dragged you into the warehouse?”
She said she did.
“They all smell like that. In human form you can only notice it faintly. If you’re around Rafferty again, see if you detect it.”
Jill stood up and Matt though she might tell him to leave.
“I’m getting myself another glass of wine. I have a feeling I’ll need it if I’m going to hear the rest of your story. You want one?”
“Why not?”
She came back and handed him a glass of wine. Jill sat and resumed her cross-legged position in the middle of the couch.
“You just said your parents died in a car crash.”
“I’m sorry I lied, but I didn’t think telling you the bogeyman got them would be a good dinner conversation.” He shrugged. “As long as I’m telling the story about Lincoln, you should know the whole truth.”
She ran her finger around the rim of the wineglass. “So if I’m to believe this, Rafferty is really some creature under the skin and that’s why he’s harassing me.”
“Basically.”
“I’m sorry if it seems like I’m being snotty, but this is a little hard to swallow.”
“I realize that. There is another person that knows about them too. I’m supposed to have dinner with him. I’d like you to come.”
She frowned for a moment, thinking it over. “Okay.”
“You’re in danger. Anyone who’s not one of them who lives here is in danger.”
“So these things murdered your family?”
“Yes.”
“Would you like to tell me about it?”
Man, this was going a lot faster than he wanted. “I’ve never told anyone.”
“You can tell me. I’m a good listener.”
“I thought you didn’t believe in these things.”
“I never said that. I’m skeptical, but I don’t totally disbelieve.”
“Okay.”
He took another sip of wine.
Harry Pierce crunched a Cheez-Doodle, spilling crumbs onto his ample belly. He brushed them off, drawing a frown from Liza.
“We’ve been married thirty years and you still sweep the crumbs on the floor.”
Harry grinned sheepishly.
They sat in recliners, an end table between them, facing the television, where Ralph Kramden was threatening Alice with a free trip to the moon. Harry had on a tank top and striped boxer shorts. It was too damn hot for anything else, pants included. He picked up his beer off the end table, took a swig and set it back down.
“Coaster, Harry.”
“Yes, my love.” He put it on the coaster. Man, that woman didn’t miss a trick after all these years. Even with her nose buried in a copy of
Gun Digest
, she still noticed if he didn’t put the beer can on the coaster or got crumbs on the rug.
But he loved that about her, the sassiness, the fire. The two of them had some incredible arguments over the years, Liza once going so far as to throw his clothes out the upstairs bedroom window and telling him never to return. He came back, they apologized and made love on the kitchen floor.
The passion had never died and even though lovemaking sessions were far and few between these days, he loved her more than ever.
He had been dancing around the idea of bringing up his meeting with Matt Crowe. Now he finally got up the nerve to mention it. “I found someone else who knows about Them.”
“You told someone?” She set the magazine on her lap. “Harry, are you nuts?”
“I thought he might be one of them, so I checked him out. He came into the store and I wound up grabbing him and checking him out. He was clean. And he already knew.”
Harry grabbed a handful of Cheez-Doodles and popped them in his mouth. And then he sprang the rest of the story on his dear wife. “I invited him for dinner.”
“And I suppose you’re cooking?”
“You know me, Liz. I could burn cornflakes.”
She slid up on the edge of the recliner. “Do you trust this man? What if he’s working for Rafferty?”
“I’ve got a good feeling about him.”
“I hope you’re right. Just in case, I might be packing under my apron,” Liz warned.
“I love it when you talk tough,” said Harry.
“I’m not kidding. Lord only knows who this man is. I wish you hadn’t said anything about the beasties.”
Liza always called them beasties.
“He used to live here, Liz. And besides, I sold him some weapons. I think he’s planning on defending himself.”
“I’m still packing. Maybe the .357.”
“That’s my Liza. They’re planning to Harvest,” he said abruptly.
She slapped her magazine down on the table and stood up.
“Are you sure, Harry? I know you suspected, but can you be sure?”
Harry set the bowl of Cheez-Doodles on the table and put his footrest down, drawing a groan from the old chair. He went to the kitchen, where his pants hung on the back of a chair.
After returning from the kitchen, he handed Liza the hot pink flyer, scratched his belly and flopped back into his recliner. “I found that on a pole outside the shop.”
Liza scanned the flyer. “Their meeting’s in October,” she said, her brow furrowing.
“That’s when it’ll go down,” he said.
“My God.”
“I drove around after I left the shop. Those things are posted all over town, and they all say ‘members only’ on them. If only the nonmembers knew what the members really are.”