Inanimate (42 page)

CHAPTER 37

Earl’s
was quiet tonight. Although Billy
would have liked it to be busy, he understood why people were
reluctant to come after what happened. He had already heard about
Shannahan.

“
News travels fast when you work
in a bar
.”

That news had shocked him; he thought the
mayor would have been smart enough to hire a couple of people to
protect him, but then again, he had never actually met the mayor.
Standing alone polishing glasses, he thought of Earl. The old man
never saw the point in polishing glassware but Billy always
insisted on doing so if it was quiet. He felt it was better to
offer clean glasses rather than ones covered in fingerprints, or
worse-lipstick. Donna had just stepped out to the store to buy more
smokes as Billy was putting the finishing touches on closing early.
The bar had been empty all day so he saw no point in keeping it
open any later. Spinning into only its seventh cycle of the day the
glass washer was Billy’s only company for the time
being.

The last glass from the rack to
be put away was accompanied by a low growl. Billy
remembered the sound
well, there was no way he could ever forget it. He stood for a
moment without moving his body. His eyes scanned the mirror, which
lined the back of the bar for any signs of movement behind him.
There was none, but he knew he was not alone. Moving slowly, he
turned around. He could hear the creature’s raspy breathing but
still he could not see it. Careful not to make any sudden moves he
slowly dropped his hand underneath the bar top, slid it over the
shotgun and grasped his Slugger firmly. Always a cocky one, Billy
knew the shotgun was the safer choice but he would definitely enjoy
the bat more. This much he knew. The bar top was mostly an
obstruction to Billy’s view, but he felt safer for the moment
knowing there was a barrier between him and the creature. Focusing
solely on the sound of Dog’s breathing he moved slowly out of the
bar, onto the floor area. Dog was somewhere around, he could hear
him, he almost sounded like he was chuckling.

“
Where
are you, you bastard?”

Finding nothing
in his immediate
vision Billy started batting chairs to the side in an attempt to
flush Dog out. As each chair crashed to the ground he heard
confused little footsteps but still was unable to pinpoint where
they were coming from. He stopped suddenly. He could feel eyes on
him. Dog had a position and was ready to charge. The creature had
already turned into the demented version of itself and was too
excited to cover up its own snarls. The acoustics in Earl’s did not
help Billy to locate the creature so he turned wildly back and
forward, trying to spot it. Dog simply waited for its opportunity.
Billy spotted it in the reflection of the jukebox, it was behind
him, but the sly bartender did not act as if he had seen it.
Instead he casually turned to face the jukebox, lulling Dog into
false hope. Dog took the bait. Charging, its feet beat the floor
hard as it ran to flank the bartender. Billy calmly watched it in
the reflection up until the last moment when it lunged…

Turning quickly, the bat-adept
young man connected the Slugger to the body of Dog, sending it way
across the room; slamming it hard into a half dozen liquor bottles
by the register
. Silence fell for a lingering moment before the creature
flopped off the ledge to the floor, out of Billy’s sight.
Confidence spurred in the young bartender, he knew that although
this thing wasn’t an animal it was still made of man-made materials
and so: it could be destroyed. Quickly, the bartender ran across
and leaned over the bar top to look for the fallen creature but it
had gone again. Panic hit him for the first time as he realized Dog
may have the upper hand now. Confused he turned to face the opening
to the bar but the beast was already there. With a sharp bite and a
pull Dog bit him in the same spot he had tried to a couple of days
earlier but this time he succeeded and took a chunk of flesh with
him. Adrenaline and anger kept Billy from going down completely;
instead he fell to one knee, using the bat to keep him up, trying
to ignore the blood he was losing. Unfortunately for him, this was
enough for a second attack. Dog knew he had weakened the formidable
bartender and so he swung round and charged in again, taking full
advantage of the situation. Billy had to react fast. As he took his
weight off the Slugger he collapsed. Dog was now on top of him,
gnashing at his throat. Pushing the bat against it with all his
might, Billy was surprised at how strong the toy dog was. He was
losing blood and his determination to survive could only last so
long. As froth from the creature’s mouth starting dripping onto his
face and neck he made a snap decision. After waiting till Dog bit
down on the bat Billy used his powerful upper body to toss it-with
Dog attached-as far away from him as he could. He knew this
solution was only temporary as he tried to get to his feet. Sadly
he had underestimated the pain in his ankle and he collapsed again
after trying to put weight on it. On his back, willing himself to
stand back up he was helpless. Out of nowhere dog appeared beside
him and sank its teeth into his shoulder. Billy cried out but it
was no use. In a last effort he grabbed the gnawing Dog with his
good arm and tossed his forward, slamming it into the jukebox. Dog
did not even slow down. As soon as it was on its feet again it was
back, seizing Billy up.

Billy
sorely regretted not picking up the
shotgun but now it was too late. The combined pain in his ankle and
his shoulder was awful. Dog meandered towards him, uninterested in
rushing anymore. Billy was done for and they both knew
it.

“
Fuck!”

Billy cried out at his own arrogance. Had
he picked up the shotgun, things might have turned out differently
for him. Dog moved in, focused solely on its prey. It approached
Billy slowly, with its teeth bared, ready to clamp down on its
prize. He closed his eyes. He could feel its paws moving their way
up his torso and then that awful breath was filling his nostrils.
He opened his eyes to see hell incarnate staring back at him, its
red eyes just inches away from his. With a last act of defiance
Billy spat in the face of the creature prepare to kill
him.

“
Fuck you!”

He uttered these words knowing they were
going to be his last. Dog opened its mouth wide to take his whole
head in one bite. Billy had given up all hope until he heard the
click. Both his and Dogs’ eyes looked up in unison. Dogs’ mouth was
still gaping. Dog yelped as he saw Donna standing over them with
the shotgun aimed square at his head. Instead of being afraid she
was smiling. Billy had never seen this glint in her eye before but
right now he didn’t care about that. The sight of his fiancé above
him gave Billy the strength to push the creature away from him and
cover his ears as best he could. On the other hand, the sight of a
shotgun barrel caused Dog to turn its face back to a doe-eyed
cutie, intent on existing a little while longer. Donna’s eyes
lowered at the sight of the cute creature before her and she smiled
wider.

“
Fucking shoot it!” Billy
cried
out.

Donna stood there for a moment. She had no
intention of not shooting it; she simply wanted to enjoy the
creature trying to trick her. Dog scowled as he realized she wasn’t
lowering the gun. Gently, she squeezed the trigger. Dog let out a
yelp as the ensuing blast completely destroyed it. As smoke wisped
from the barrel, Donna offered a hand to her finace to help him up.
Shakily, Billy tried to keep his balance.

“
Good thing you went out for
more smokes.”

“
Yep,” Donna grinned, “Those
things will kill you.”

CHAPTER 38

Jacobs
’ stomach growled.

“
Christ, I forgot to pick up
some food!”

“
I could eat too” agreed
Murdoch.

“
Me too”
said Anne.

“
Don’t fret
people
…”
Lynch interrupted “It’s not like we’re gonna be in here for a
month. We have sandwiches in the break room. We normally load them
into the vending machines but I just took them out
today.”

Suddenly everyone’s mood
perked up a little.
The thought of having sandwiches was like a shining beacon of
hope.

“
If someone
wanted to come with, we could
bring back a little selection.”

“
I’ll go with you. Then I’ll get
first pick!” Anne said, snickering.

“
Bring me back a tuna!”
Jacobs
said
as they left the room.

Dr.
Crass double-checked the lock on his
front door. He double-checked the windows in the upstairs bedroom.
He double-checked the bathroom windows and the spare room windows.
He double-checked the lock on the basement door and the freshly
installed padlock on the attic hatch. He double-checked the back
door and then started the living room window double check. Crass
had been double-checking the windows all day. Wilma believed his
story; she had never known her husband to deliberately lie about
anything. It was when he told her Greta was dead that she was
really convinced he was telling the truth. He would never have said
that otherwise. Still, she was not overly worried about what was
happening. Having had no contact with Connor and having never seen
a child’s toy come to life she had no real reason to be scared.
Sure, she believed her husband and sure, she believed she was in
danger but that was a different thing from being afraid for their
lives. Although smart, Wilma epitomized the natural apathy of
people when it came to their own mortality. Sure she was told of
what was out to get her but she wouldn’t really believe it until
she saw it with her own two eyes.

Wilma
sat on the couch knitting while
gently mocking her husband.

“
Be careful you don’t check those
windows to death. I’d hate to have to testify against you when the
lamps call the police.”

Crass ignored her and continued
checking the locks.

“
In fact, I think the chairs are
getting jealous of the attention the windows are getting. Watch
they don’t call the police out of spite.”

“
You
realize I’m not amused?”

“
Yes you are. It’s just that
you’d never admit it.”

Crass kept his back turned to
her.

“
You’ve always known me to be
honest
.”

“
I’ve always known you to be
a grumpy old bastard.”

Despite the fact they
had been happily
married for forty years, Crass was still not used to being swore
at, and Wilma knew this. Swear words were her wild cards. When she
wanted to add a little spice to a conversation, she would slip in a
“B-Word,” or an “S-word,” or even the dreaded “F-Word.” However,
she would never use the “C-Word.” No, that word was too awful.
Crass turned to his wife. No matter how many times she surprised
him with one of these bad little words he was always offended. He
loathed swearing. He felt there were enough descriptive terms in
the English language that you did not need to swear. To him,
swearing was an ignorant man’s vice. But Wilma knew all this.
Goodness knows he had ranted about it often enough. So when he
turned to her angry, she simply raised her eyebrows comically. Her
little half-smirk broke out, the one she had when she joked and
there was nothing he could do about it. He knew she was just trying
to get a rise out of him, she was the only person he knew who was
ballsy enough to do that and that was one of the reasons he loved
her.

“
I do wish you wouldn’t say
things like that.” Crass thought for a moment. “Call me a grumpy
old goat. Yes, that’s much better.”

Wilma chuckled “I’ll do that next
time.”

Crass simply shook his head.

“
I want to make sure they’re
sealed.”

“
They’re fine Ben”
sighed Wilma. “Just
like they were earlier, just like they will be later, now come and
sit down.”

Crass
relented “I guess you’re
right.”

He
sat down beside his wife.

“
I just want to make
su
re you’re
safe. Greg lost Greta; I don’t want to lose you.”

“
I
know sweetie.”

Wilma
sat with her husband for a moment
until she noticed his fingerprints all over the windows.

“
Ben! What’s the point of me
cleaning all day then you ge
tting the place all dirty again? I know we’re
hermits right now but that doesn’t mean we have to be slobs
too.”

Crass
sat back against the couch. He
allowed Wilma to complain about the fingerprints as she went into
the kitchen for some cleaning products he didn’t use very often.
After a minute she came back out with a bottle of homemade yellow
liquid in one hand and some large coffee filters in the other. Mist
peppered the windows after a few quick sprays. Aromas of vinegar
and lemons came from the fluid, a scent that Wilma adored as it
reminded her of freshness.

Under a
streetlamp, across the road an empty
police car sat. Wilma lowered the bottle in her hand and wiped away
the last of the liquid for a clearer look.