Husk (10 page)

His dad did a quick inspection around the exterior of the house while BJ and Mallory waited at the entry, but he found nothing amiss. Back on the steps, he knelt beside BJ and looked him squarely in the eyes. “Listen BJ, this is important. If someone came after you, I’m going to call the police and report it to them. That’s how serious this is. So I just want to be sure you’re not playing make-believe, understand?”

“
Uh-hu,” he answered. “There
was
a man,
honest
.”

“
Okay, I believe you,” his father said. “Now, can you tell me what this man looked like? Both his face and what he was wearing?”

“
Sure,” BJ replied. “He was big. Real big. Bigger than you, Dad. And he was dressed like a voodoo doll on Scooby Doo.”

“
Oh, boy,” Mallory muttered. “Here we go.”

“
I’m not sure I understand,” his dad said.

“
Well, he didn’t have a whole face, just eyes and a mouth. No nose.”

“
You mean he was wearing a mask?”

BJ thought. “Yeah, I guess it could’ve been a mask.”

Beside them, Mallory made a shivery sound and rubbed her arms. “Okay, I’m officially freaked out. Maybe he’s not goofing around this time, Dad? Maybe you
should
call the cops?”

Their father scanned the yard once more. “I think—”

But before he could finish, the kitchen smoke alarm went off and everyone jumped.

“
Oh, damn. The soup.”

“
You used Mallory words,” BJ said.

His dad ushered them both back inside, closed the door—and locked it, BJ noticed—then hurried to the kitchen. Black smoke billowed upward from where the tomato soup had boiled over the pot’s edge and cascaded down the side, onto the burner.

“
I’ll get the soup, you get the door,” his dad told Mallory.

With both ears plugged, she scooted past the dining room table and unlocked the sliding glass door that opened onto the back deck and pool area. Fresh air flowed through the lower level of the house, and the detector fell silent.

His dad set the pot and its smoldering contents in the sink and turned on the hood fan above the range. “I guess we’ll have to settle for just sandwiches,” he said.

Mallory rounded the table and started for the hallway. “Well, if all the excitement is over, I’m going back to my original plan of taking a shower. Is that okay?”

“
No problem,” his dad said.

“
But what about the Voodooman?” BJ asked.

His dad set BJ’s plate on the table. “Let’s talk about him.”

* * *

The Killer ducked into Mallory’s bedroom with the sound of her footsteps coming off the stairs at the far end of the hall.

For a moment the Killer halted just past the doorway, glancing around, disillusioned by the unembellished normalcy of the room. Any chamber associated with a being of Mallory’s strength should’ve been a shrine to her power, a temple of fear and pain, a palace of death. But nothing adorned this ordinary bedroom save for the common pieces of furniture used by any average person around the world. The Killer saw no altars or
peseshkafs.
No sacrificial slabs or offerings of worship. Not even a pleasuring fork.

The Killer broke from those thoughts and dodged into Mallory’s closet. She entered the room and crossed the space the Killer had occupied a split-second ago, not showing any signs that she suspected a hidden danger.

And she headed straight for the Killer’s hiding spot.

The Killer’s fingers curled into claws, ready to rip into her flesh, but she stopped just short of the cracked door. At her dresser, she selected several articles of clothing from the drawers.

The Killer’s hands remained rigid, unable to relax.

Her tender flesh lay almost within arm’s reach.

Since awakening from the coma, old instincts had returned, along with the inability to refuse them. Emotions struck like thunderbolts and actions followed with equal speed. But action now could mean disaster, and the Killer wouldn’t allow it.

Mallory paused, staring at something on the dresser drawer she’d opened. She wiped a hand across its surface and her fingertips came away smeared with blood.

Kern’s blood.

The Killer looked at the hand which had held the priest’s heart then back to Mallory. Her face crinkled into a look of disgust.

The Killer leaned closer. There was no choice now. Despite the risks, she would have to be taken before she realized the danger. The Killer stripped off the scarecrow mask and twisted it into a garrote.

“
BJ!” Mallory shouted.

The Killer halted.

She snatched up a bath towel from a hamper beside the closet and wiped the front of the dresser clean. “I told you to stay out of my room! That means no food, drinks, or little twerps!”

She gave the dresser one last glance, then wadded the towel into a ball and threw it back into the hamper. Picking up her fresh clothes she stormed out of the room and closed the door behind her.

The Killer remained in the closet a moment longer, savoring the inert caress of the darkness. It helped calm the animalistic compulsions and made thinking easier.

From downstairs, the muffled sound of BJ’s voice flirted with the Killer’s ear while he spoke with his father, retelling his tale.

The boy needed to be dealt with.

Still fighting the craving to feed, the Killer slipped from the closet like a rat abandoning the protective cover of a rotten log. Not daring to come any closer to Mallory, the Killer exited out the second floor window, onto the roof. Over its peak, the Killer had an unobstructed view of the fenced-in backyard and pool area.

The Killer stepped to the edge and jumped to the ground, stamping deep depressions into the grass upon landing. Several feet away, on the deck at the back of the house, the sliding glass door to the kitchen stood open.

The Killer spotted BJ sitting at the table.

Back turned to the yard.

A foot from the opening.

* * *

BJ sat at the table and ate his sandwich while his Dad cleaned out the pot of burnt soup at the sink. “I can’t believe I actually burned
soup,
” his dad laughed. “Your Mom always said I was no good in the kitchen, but this is ridiculous.”

BJ didn’t laugh. “Dad, I wasn’t playing around like Mallory said I was. I really did see someone.”

His father nodded, then turned off the water and dried his hands. He came around the counter and knelt down beside BJ’s chair, adding a dessert cookie to his plate. “You know, sometimes you seem a lot older than your age, kiddo. It means you’re smart.”

“
Do you still believe me, then?”

He nodded. “You said this man came out of the Andersons’ house, right?”

“
Yup.”

“
I’ll go over there and talk to him a little later, once Mallory’s out of the shower. I have to mow the lawn, anyway. Once I’m done with all that, maybe you and me could do something together. What do you say?”

“
Could you teach me more swimming?”

“
I sure can. But you have to wait a while after eating. If you don’t, you could get cramps, remember? You can play in here while I do the yard work. After that, I’ll go talk to Mister Anderson. We’ll get this whole mess sorted out, and then we can go swimming, okay?”

“
Okay.”

“
Do you think you’ll jump off the diving board?”

“
No way. Not yet.”

His father patted him on the head and stood up. He closed and locked the sliding glass door Mallory had opened earlier, then collected his shoes from a floor mat and slipped them on.

“
Tell Mallory there’s a sandwich for her in the refrigerator if she wants it. And no going near the pool without me, got it?”

“
Yeah, yeah. I know.”

“
Good, boy.”

His dad exited through the garage, closing the door behind him. Not two seconds after it clicked shut, BJ heard the smooth sound of the sliding glass door opening from behind him.

Hot air from outside collided with the air-conditioned coolness of the house, fluttering the fine hairs on the back of his neck.

BJ whipped around.

He expected to turn and find Voodooman’s gloved hands descending toward his neck, but nothing loomed in the doorway or waited on the deck outside. The shrubs bordering the deck’s railing blocked his view of anything beyond, and he had to stand on his chair to see over their tops. Even from this new perspective, he didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary in the yard.

There was something in the pool, though.

Something big, floating in the water.

CHAPTER 13

Tim rode his bike off the dirt trail he’d followed from the train tracks that ran between Loretto and Mallory’s neighborhood. Although the total distance between the two locations measured less than two miles, he’d taken nearly a half-hour getting here.

“
Just say ‘hi’ to her and leave,” he told himself. “It’s not like you have to ask her out on a date or anything. You don’t even know her.”

Of course he didn’t need to ask her out, but by the way his mother described her he knew he’d probably want to. Whether or not he’d find the courage to do so remained the true question.

No, he didn’t need to ask her out, but he did have the Valleyfair tickets in his pocket.

Tim rode up the Wiesses’ driveway and halted beside their Expedition. The garage door stood open, and the sound of a lawn mower revved to life around the far side of the house.

He thought about riding away while he still had the chance.

* * *

BJ stood at the summit of the deck’s steps, surveying the landscape of the backyard. His dad always told him never to come out here alone, had warned him that he’d get punished if he did, but the need to find out what had fallen into the pool overwhelmed the threat of losing cartoons for a week.

His skin prickled with goosebumps when he cleared the decorative shrubs that skirted the deck and saw Voodooman floating in the water. The man lay facedown in the middle of the pool, arms and legs hanging just below the surface. The
dead man’s float
his dad called it. Was that what happened? Was Voodooman dead? Did he fall in the pool and drown? And if so, how’d he get back here, who opened the—

The lawn mower roared into operation somewhere at the side of the house, startling BJ from his thoughts. He took a step backward, ready to haul ass, as Mallory would say, when Voodooman broke into pieces and drifted apart.

BJ gaped, watching in horror.

The man’s head separated from his body; his torso split away from his legs. Both gloves popped loose from the arms and floated to the surface, while his boots detached and sank to the bottom.

The disembodied head rolled in the water; its vacant eyes turned skyward.

A scream grew in BJ’s throat but died out when he spotted the stuffing inside the man’s tattered clothing. Old rags spilled out the neck of the empty head and torn towels protruded from the cuffs of the shirt sleeves and pant legs.

He stepped up to the edge of the deep end, gazing at the disentangled garments.

It’s only clothes, not a person.

BJ smirked. Was Voodooman running around naked somewhere? Was he—

Something rose up from behind him, something big that cast a dark shadow on the wobbling, reflective surface of the water.

BJ gasped.

Two strong hands gripped him under the arms, lifting him off the ground with the ease of plucking a weed. Panic seized his whole body. Then he was airborne, thrown out over the pool, glimpsing Voodooman’s empty clothes dotting the water below him.

He plunged into the pool with a huge splash, enveloped by the warmth of the water and the smell of chlorine. His feet kicked but found nothing to stop his descent. He opened his mouth and water rushed in, cutting off his scream for help.

* * *

Tim parked his bike and headed for the front door when a piercing scream came from the back of the house. He halted in his tracks. The sound had come from somewhere beyond the back door of the open garage, but the door had no windows and the noise had cut off so fast he failed to identify it.

He stood in place, listening, already uncertain if he’d heard a human scream or a dog bark. Heck, under the right conditions even a power tool could’ve—

Another shout broke through the air, this one more frantic than the first, and this time the cry contained two distinct words.  

“
Help me!”

* * *

Mallory had just stepped out of the shower and wrapped herself in a towel when an odd noise drew her attention to the window. Looking out at the backyard, she spotted a dark shape move cross the far side of the pool area, but by the time she wiped the glass clear of condensation the yard appeared empty.

Then BJ splashed into view in the deep end of the pool, thrashing around like a fish in a blender.