Cry For Tomorrow (14 page)

“It should be fairly safe, for a while at least.” I studied the rows of empty windows glaring down on us from the faces of the abandoned houses lining the street like so many grey tombstones in a cemetery. “This used to be a nice neighborhood before its residents left it for the security of the new townhouses the Company built on the other side of town.”

The promise of reliable utility services and secure, gated communities with police on patrol had lured most of the up-scale families that had once found this neighborhood so desirable away. Now the windows were black with dust and grime and the shrubs and grass grew in a wild tangle across the fronts of most.

When the side street we’d been following abruptly ended at the junction of a main-intersecting highway we all stopped, waiting for someone to make a decision. Behind us the upper-floors of the university were still barely visible, but what lay ahead was concealed in a maze of buildings and treetops and unknown streets.

“Okay, which way?” Jennie asked as she looked from my frowning face to Carl’s puzzled mask of confusion.

“Good question,” I replied thoughtfully. “Do we take the shortest way home or do we take the longer but safer way?” I continued to study the intersection of streets, thinking.

“Well, the bus route
is
safer,” Jennie began, “the main street follows the more secure and police-patrolled bus route.”

“Yeah
, but
,” interrupted Carl, “it will also take us around the outskirts of the city and several miles away from home before it heads back into the old city.”

I shook my head and stepped into the street, shading my eyes so I could see better. “You’re right about the bus route being safer, but we’re actually only about three miles from home if we take the direct route. Jake took me this way once, a long time ago.” I pointed at the narrow, one-lane side street that stretched into the maze of old homes. A large billboard loomed over the intersection, declaring
City Zoo
in faded letters surrounded by torn images of tigers and roaring lions, “If I remember correctly, this street to the left will take us on to the old zoo. From there we can follow the railroad tracks over the river and home.”

Carl was nodding his head thoughtfully. “You’re right. It would save us several miles and a whole lot of walking, and don’t forget about these little kids you’ve got tagging along behind us,” he reminded us with a scowl. “They might not even be able to walk the extra distance to take the safer route.”

“Okay, the short route it is,” I agreed. “Besides, if someone
is
looking for us, they’re more likely to be watching the main bus routes than the back streets.”

Shrugging off a chill of apprehension, I clicked the dog’s leash to her collar and took Merry’s small hand in mine before stepping from the curb.

The maze of broken concrete and thick tufts of brown grass that comprised what had once been a sidewalk was only in slightly better condition than the street it followed. The numerous potholes in the broken paving of the street had plainly made it unusable for ground traveling vehicles and dangerous for foot traffic, making me wonder if anyone still lived in any of the homes we were passing. It made me sad to see them like this—I knew that these abandoned houses glaring down on our small procession with dark, lonely eyes had once been the pride of the city’s wealthiest families.

We’d traveled several blocks without meeting any other people or encountering anything to cause concern so when the younger children asked for Dusty’s company I gave in and handed her leash to Jon. Unable to curtail their natural enthusiasm any longer, the children and dog bounced ahead toward the crest of the small hill we were climbing, energetically snooping and poking at the overgrown shrubbery.

My attention had wandered and I was deep in thought when the children’s shrieking drew my attention. I locked onto the direction of the cry just in time to see little Jon, with his hands wrapped in Dusty’s leash, being dragged along the sidewalk toward an especially thick section of hedge.

“Jen!” I shouted unnecessarily as I raced after them. I turned, intending to call Carl, but he wasn’t there. Where’d he gone to? He’d been there, trailing behind the main group for quite a while now, but before I could think about it another shriek from the children drew my attention back to them.

By the time we reached them, dog and boy had come to a stop at the edge of a large gap in the hedge. Little Jon was lying on the grass, gasping for breath, but Dusty was anxiously sniffing the air and growling softly.

“Okay, what’s going on?” Jennie demanded as she wrapped her arms around Jon and pulled him close.

“Dusty smelled something,” Jon gasped between breaths, “I tried to keep her from running off, but she was too strong.”

“I think she’s right,” I whispered as I pried Jon’s fist from the leash. “I smell something, too.”

“Hey, what’s wrong with that mutt?” Carl grumbled in annoyance as he appeared behind us.

I turned toward him, intending to reprimand him for his snide comment, but held my tongue when I saw him reaching for a stout stick lying in the grass beside the sidewalk.

“Smells like cigarettes and old cigars,” Kelly whispered in disgust. Taking the two younger children’s hands, she cautiously dragged them back a few steps.

Carl hefted his stick and backed into the street so that he could get a better view of the row of tall, rambling old houses. “Damn,” he grumbled. “I can’t see a thing with all those vines and trees grown-up around the houses like that.”

“Okay, everybody stay close,” I warned the younger children, “and keep your eyes open.” We’d taken only a couple of steps away from the hedge when a sharp, almost imperceptible whistle nearly pierced my ear drums. I shook my head and looked around to locate the sound. “Did you all hear that?”

Jen and Kelly exchanged looks and shook their heads. “Maybe it was the wind,” suggested Jen.

“Maybe,” I murmured, but I continued to listen. Dusty was still fidgeting and staining against her leash so I released her to snoop about. Hopefully she would give us some advance warning if there was somebody or some
thing
lurking about in the thick cover ahead.

Dusty immediately took advantage of her freedom and charged along the hedge, snuffling loudly until she reached another gap in the thick greenery; beyond towered one of the tall, three-storied Victorian mansions the district was famous for. This house was set further back from the street than the others had been and was nearly invisible in the mass of overgrown hedge and giant hemlock trees draped across its roof.

When the dog froze in the center of the narrow walkway, her throat quivering with silent snarls, I carefully moved in and put a restraining hand on her collar. Peering between the rows of greenery, I made a quick scan of the thick screen of vines that shielded the long veranda fronting the old house. It took me two tries to get the words past the dry spots in my throat before I could call out, “I-Is someone there?”

“Not anyone ya’ll need to be concerned about,” cackled a scratchy male voice. I moved closer, trying to get a look at the speaker through the thick curtain of vines and shadows. “You youngsters an’ that pretty dog of yours don’ need to worry ‘bout us now, there ain’t been a dangerous thought amongst us for many years.” The unseen man laughed hoarsely.

Losing patience with all the caution, Carl stepped around us and into the deeper shadows of the front stoop. I was only a step behind him as we worked our way close enough to focus on the three old men smoking and rocking in high-backed rocking chairs.

“Sorry if we disturbed you gentlemen,” Carl called in as friendly a manner as he was able to muster under the circumstances. “We, uh, we’re just passing by, we don’t mean you any harm, sirs.”

“Didn’t think ya’ did, young man,” cackled the one in the largest chair. The laughter was followed by another large puff of cigar smoke.

“If you youngsters are plannin’ on travelin’ up this street, then you might want to take heed when you approach the next corner,” a second voice wheezed. “There’s been a lot of scurrying and shifting about of them phantoms in the las’ hour or so since that last quake.”

“Thanks for the heads-up,” Carl called back.

I shrugged and turned away. It did seem like an especially odd thing for these old men to be still living here like that, and it might be worth making a trip back this way some other time when I had the leisure to investigate. I was trying to attach the leash to Dusty’s collar when the hair under my hand stiffened and I heard a low snarl of warning rumble from the dog’s throat.

I immediately released her and took a couple of steps back out of the shadows so I could get a clearer view of things, but when I did I had the oddest feeling that the shadow I had just passed through was moving with me. The branches of the tree beside me rustled and the tips of the branches brushed against my shoulder.

“Hey!” I spun around and stared at the thick mass of green branches.
It most definitely had not been this close a moment ago.
The rustling grew louder and the giant hemlock loomed taller and closer
and so much darker
.

A low growl warned me as Dusty brushed past me, stalking into the dense shadows rippling across the ground. “
Dusty! No!”
I hissed as she disappeared under the branches. Concerned for her safety, I slipped the small knife I always carried at my waist from its leather sheath and pushed one shoulder into the mass of thick greenery.

I’d barely penetrated a foot inside when I was thrown, gasping for air from the wall of thickly matted needles, but Dusty’s sharp
yip!
of pain drew me back. Jamming my shoulder against the thick branches I managed to grab a handful of the hair at the back of the dog’s neck and pulled her to me.

A soft
hiss
of tree branches and sharp breath of cold, wet air from above was the only warning I had. Lurching sideways, I dragged Dusty clear of the branches but not before something cold and rough grazed my side. Sucking and clinging, it tried to find something to latch onto as it slid down the length of my body. It hit the ground with a soft
splatt!
and surged up to wrap around my leg, dragging me to the ground with its weight.

I would have screamed if I could have gotten enough of a breath. Dusty twisted in my grip and seized the black tentacle, tearing at the thick, gelatinous mass.

A sharp keening rose from the mass as it twitched and oozed under her attack. Careful not to stab through into my own leg, I used my knife to pry at the outer edge of the mass until it released its grip.

Like a giant, black slug, the creature flipped to the ground and began retracting into the shadows.

“Dusty! Let it go!” I grabbed her collar and was trying to drag her away when a thin tentacle snapped up and looped around her neck. Fear for my own safety was completely forgotten as I threw myself on the thing that was trying to strangle my dog. Using the small knife, I stabbed at the cold, rubbery trunk until it released her.

Oozing drops of black sap, the tentacle snapped in the air and looped back toward the deeper shadows.

“Hit the deck!” ordered a gravelly voice.

I threw myself on top of the dog, bringing us both to the ground even as the air overhead exploded in a shower of splintered wood and black goop.

“Halie! Are you all right?” demanded Carl and Jennie simultaneously. They both grabbed an arm and helped me to my feet.

“Yeah, I guess,” I stammered as I wiped my hands and the blade of my knife on my jeans to clean off the dirt and wet stuff clinging to them. “Leave it alone, Dusty,” I ordered the dog, who was sniffing and snarling at a small chunk of black gel dangling from the porch railing.

We were still studying the scattered pieces of bullet-riddled gel when we were joined by a trio of elderly men.

“Yes-sir-ee! You sure got ‘im this time, Ben!” laughed the shorter of the men as he slapped the tall, slender old man at his side on the back.

“That I did,” he agreed proudly.

“Thanks for the help, Mister,” I said as I studied the residents of the old Victorian house.

“No problem young lady, ‘been after that big fella’ for a coupla days now and couldn’t seem to get a clear shot at him, seems almost like that old hemlock tree’s been protecting him or something.” The man the others had called Ben shook his head in consternation. Turning a broad grin and twinkling blue eyes on me, he held out his hand. I was about to take it when I became aware of a rustle of small things scurrying about in the high grass.

“Look out!” I shouted. I grabbed the man’s arm and danced sideways, dragging him with me just in time to avoid a small hoard of black beetle-like creatures converging on the chunks of black gel scattered about the ground.

We could only watch as the semi-transparent phantom bugs hungrily gobbled the pieces of mangled gel creature. It took only minutes for them to finish their gruesome meal. Clicking their sharp little pinchers contentedly, they scuttled off into the street and disappeared into a large black pothole.

“Wow! What
were
those things?“ demanded Jon in his high-pitched, squeaky voice.

“Well, young fella, I don’t have any idea, but we been seeing more and more of these
denser
phantoms, like those bugs, for about two months now,” answered the man I had saved. He paused to catch his breath and pick some stray pieces of the black goop from the sleeve of his red-flannel shirt.

He looked up and his bright blue eyes scanned our little group, who were intently watching him. “By the way, I was about to introduce myself and my friends here, when we were so rudely interrupted.” He laughed good-naturedly at the curious looks on our faces. “Name’s Ben Holiday. This here is Duke Johnson and that chubby fella over there, well, we just call him Charlie. I’m sorry we had to meet under such circumstances now, but this new series of quakes seems to have them spooks all shook up. We don’t usually go out of our way to hunt the things, but lately we don’t seem to have much choice.”

“We been tryin’ to live and let live an’ all, ya’ know,” interjected Charlie, “but then one of them boogers, he just up and ate my cat! And I gotta tell you, it’s been war ever since!”