The Shuddering (26 page)

She nodded toward her plate.

“I was the one who decided to postpone.”

Jane glanced up at him, chewing the inside of her lip, not sure whether she was supposed to respond—whether she was supposed to ask why, or if silence was an acceptable response.

“I didn’t want to come up here if you weren’t here too. Despite everything.”

She smiled faintly and looked back down.

“I’m still glad I came,” he said quietly, frowning at his plate. “I know that’s fucked up. It makes me feel shitty for even admitting it, because…” He paused, shaking his head at a thought. April. The baby. “I guess if this is the end…if this is what it took to wind up here with you guys…”

“Don’t say that. If you hadn’t come, this wouldn’t have happened.”

“Janey…” He lifted his eyes to meet her gaze. “If I hadn’t come, I just wouldn’t be here when it happened. It would have still happened. But I’d be in Denver calling Ryan’s cell for weeks, and I’d eventually get into my Jeep and drive out to Phoenix, only he wouldn’t be there.”

Jane slid her plate onto the coffee table and stared down at her hands. Her chest constricted against Sawyer’s words:
if this is the end
. She wanted to cry, wanted to apologize because suddenly it all felt like her fault. But her thoughts were derailed when Sawyer slid up onto the couch, cutting the distance between them.

“Janey, listen…” She could smell the chocolate on his breath. “Everything is going to work out. We’re going to be fine.”

She nodded without looking at him, but he caught her chin in his hand, gently tipped it up so they looked into each other’s eyes.

“We’re going to be fine,” he repeated. “I promise.”

But she could see it in his eyes: he didn’t believe it. He was trying to convince her, to keep her calm, to keep her sane, but for Sawyer it would never be okay again.

His world was already gone.

R
yan stirred from sleep, and for a moment everything was fine. They were at the cabin, the snow was great, Lauren was fantastic, and he felt good about the future. But every muscle in his body tensed when he heard Oona’s growl beside him. He rolled onto his back, then sat up, only to be presented with Jane and Sawyer sleeping in front of the fire, tangled in each other’s arms, knives strewn across the room, the cold starting to creep in through the windows, eating away the last of the cabin’s heat. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he then let his hand fall from his face, his palm slapping the slick fabric of his snowboarding pants, and crawled toward the coffee table. The scent of baked chocolate roused a hungry rumble from his stomach, and he grabbed the spare fork that lay there, digging into the cake that was left on the covered stand. With a mouth full of chocolate and frosting, he rubbed behind Oona’s ears, his gaze returning to his sister and best friend, unable to help the pang of sadness that flared in his gut. He should have tried harder, should have thrown himself in front of that creature to buy Lauren some more time. She had been incredible, the girl he had been waiting for, for so long, the girl he was convinced didn’t exist at all, and he had let her die—no, he had let her be
torn apart
.

Another subdued growl resonated inside Oona’s throat. Ryan froze midchew and blinked through the darkness. She was definitely at attention now, as though seeing something that Ryan
couldn’t. Swallowing the chocolate lump in his mouth, he stared through the living room and into the kitchen, his eyes wide.

The slight squeal of hinges reached his ears as the kitchen door slowly swung inward, and Ryan felt the cold almost immediately. Seeing the wind and snow blow inside proved that he wasn’t imagining things; that door was genuinely open. Oona was staring at it too—her ears slicked back against her head, her snout wrinkling as she prepared to snarl.

The urge to warn Jane and Sawyer was almost overwhelming, but something kept him from making a sound. He held his breath and waited, praying that it had only been the wind, that the door hadn’t been latched and it had finally given way to the air pressure outside. But why the fuck hadn’t that door been locked? The idea of their having huddled inside this cabin, collecting weapons, considering how they were going to defend themselves while there was an
unlocked door
in the opposite room blew his mind. And then he remembered Jane yelling, Sawyer pulling her back, the thing on the deck. In their panic, nobody had realized the dead bolt hadn’t been thrown back into place. And now Ryan was left sitting in the darkness of the living room, staring at it as it hung open wide, like a gaping mouth ready to scream.

The moment he saw something fill the doorway was the moment Ryan Adler was sure they were dead. Oona’s defensiveness was suddenly squelched when the creature stepped inside. She ducked her head down, afraid, not daring to move from her master’s side. Ryan, on the other hand, didn’t move because he was petrified. With the fire to his back, his mouth hung open without sound.

One of the things that had murdered Lauren stepped around the kitchen island, sniffing at the air. Its stomach was emaciated, like that of a stray dog that hadn’t fed for weeks. Long strings of saliva dripped from its wide jowls, glistening
in the firelight. It sniffed the air with two holes that served as its nose, a gruesome purr rumbling deep inside its chest. Ryan’s eyes widened as it began to pull out drawers, its nostrils flaring as it tried to sniff out food. Not having any luck, it finally pressed its huge skull to the refrigerator door, as if able to smell what was inside. With the fridge built into the cabinets, it didn’t budge when the creature gave it a shove—not even a wiggle. The monster pushed it again, this time with more frustration. Nothing. Ryan watched this while trying not to choke on his own heartbeat, hoping like hell the thing didn’t notice him sitting there beside the fire, praying that Oona didn’t make a move, that Sawyer and Jane didn’t bolt upright and start freaking out.

Swiping at the door, the flat of the demon’s palm dragged across the refrigerator door, and its bony fingers hooked beneath the lip that served as the refrigerator’s handle. It canted its head as if curious, considering this new discovery, and then pulled instead of pushed, revealing the treasure it was looking for. Ryan went numb, dread spiking his bloodstream.

They’re intelligent.

That was why they hadn’t attacked days before, when Ryan and Sawyer had stood outside just beyond the pool room. It was why the one on the porch hadn’t burst through the glass when it had spotted the three of them standing inside in the kitchen. They were
smart
. They were weighing their options, considering the best plan of attack.

He nearly jumped when a glass jar exploded against the kitchen floor. Both Sawyer and Jane jerked awake. Ryan dared to move, pressing his fingers to his mouth, silently warning them not to make a sound. He could only hope that if that thing spotted them it would run away like it had before, but he wasn’t about to take his chances.

The predator fumbled through the dark refrigerator with nails that had been made for climbing and tearing. It thrust its arm inside the fridge, drawing it out a moment later, inspecting a gushing milk carton crushed within its wide, clawed hand. Lifting its arm so that milk dribbled into its mouth, it whipped its head from side to side before flinging the carton across the kitchen, apparently disliking the taste. As soon as it ducked its head back inside the fridge, Ryan scrambled closer to his comrades. The fire blazed behind them, burning his back through the fabric of his sweatshirt.

Jane clamped her hand over her mouth, her eyes shimmering with panic that threatened to spill over. The terror crushed her self-restraint beneath its weight, and her whimper cut through the quiet of the room at precisely the wrong moment.

Her eyes widened.

Ryan’s attention snapped to the hairless abomination in the kitchen.

It had heard, and it was staring directly at them, its gaping maw unhinged, the contents of the fridge at its feet. It lurched forward, its nails clacking against the floor. It stopped just shy of the single step that led down into the living room as if reconsidering an attack, the firelight reflecting in its cold black eyes, glinting off teeth too large to conceal.

Every nerve in Ryan’s body stood on end. Foreboding buzzed along his limbs like an electric current just beneath the skin. Oona tensed beneath his arm, warning the creature to stay back with a growl. The thing swung its head around as though it hadn’t been aware of the others in the room until that very moment, perhaps blinded by the fire behind them—but its eyes were locked on them now.

Ryan didn’t stop to think.

As soon as it spotted them, he scrambled to the opposite side of the fireplace and grasped the fire poker, knowing that if he didn’t make his move now he’d never have the chance.

The creature crouched down, the muscles of its legs coiling up like springs, and leaped forward, landing on the back of the couch like some monstrous bird. Jane screamed, shrinking back; she was the closest to it, directly in its path. It jumped after her, its feet thudding against the varnished top of the coffee table, chocolate cake and an assortment of knives spilling onto the carpet. Its jaws snapped at them, those teeth knocking together with a sickening pop, but it stopped short of the fireplace that blazed behind them. If that impossibly inhuman face could register emotion, Ryan would have sworn he saw a glimmer of fear in its onyx eyes.

But Oona didn’t understand that the monster was frozen in place. Her lips pulled away from her teeth in a snarl and she bolted forward, protecting her friends. Latching on to the monster’s long, bony arm, she tore at its flesh, shaking her head as if trying to rip the thing’s arm from its body. The creature released a high-pitched scream, a shriek Ryan hoped wasn’t a call for help. If even one more of these things showed up, they were dead. It reeled back, swinging the arm that was being attacked, tossing Oona across the room. The husky hit the wall with a yelp, but adrenaline had her bounding to her feet, diving back into battle without a second thought.

Ryan lurched forward.

The hiss that radiated from that gray-skinned monstrosity assured him that it was pissed, and he doubted Oona would survive another hit. Taking care of an injured person was one thing, but an injured dog—it was a near guarantee that she wouldn’t make it. With the thing’s attention on the husky, Ryan bounded at it, the fire poker held high over his head. He swung as hard as he could, bringing the protruding end down onto the monster’s skull. The demon stumbled back as Oona fell on him, her jaws locking onto one of its legs. But the creature was too busy waving
its arms wildly about its head to notice her attack. Ryan gave the fire poker a swift tug and it came free, a geyser of foul-smelling blood running down the monster’s raw-boned back.

Sawyer dodged around both dog and owner, snatching the small ash shovel off its holder from beside the fireplace. He took a swing as Ryan pulled back, hitting the savage in its emaciated stomach with the sharp edge of the trowel. It emitted a guttural wail as it doubled over, but its cry was cut short when the fire poker came down onto its head for a second time, punching a twin hole in its skull. It veered around, sneering at Ryan, and he lost his grip on his weapon. Scrambling backward toward the fire, he felt the heat lick at his back; the creature rushed after him, stopping just shy of catching its prey for a second time. Extending a gangly arm to grab him, the thing pulled it back just as quickly, its rage transforming to frustration as it wavered from left to right.

Ryan winced against the heat, sure he would go up in flames if he couldn’t put some distance between himself and the blaze. Sawyer swung the shovel again, striking the beast on the side of its head, but the hit didn’t seem to faze it. It took a swipe at him with its giant hands, and Sawyer fell backward, crashing against the couch. He rushed to regain his footing, but the monster sprang forward, landing on the arm of the couch, looming over Sawyer as he cowered beneath the creature’s cadaverous frame. Jutting its arm forward, it caught Sawyer by the shoulder as he attempted to bolt away. Rather than running, Sawyer gave a startled cry, twisting against the creature’s grasp in a desperate attempt to run.

Ryan darted forward, not sure of his intentions, only knowing that he had to do something before his best friend was torn in half right before his eyes. But he came to a dead stop when a shot rang out. The room went silent beneath the piercing ring in his ears. Gun powder soured the air.

When the creature dropped to the carpet, it brought Jane into view, their father’s gun in her trembling hands.

She couldn’t bring herself to look away from it, hardly flinching when Ryan bolted out of the living room and through the kitchen, slamming the open door shut. Sawyer approached the creature at Jane’s feet, still clinging to the fireplace shovel, ready to swing as he nudged it with the toe of his sneaker. Oona didn’t want anything to do with whatever it was, dead or alive. She cowered in the corner of the room, watching everyone else inspect the body while she kept a safe distance from the thing that had slammed her into the wall.