The Dark Ones (9 page)

Mark coughed. “Anyway . . .”

Natasha clasped hands with him and steered him toward the road. “Awkward silences piss me off. Let’s go check out that house.”

The trio started toward the road.

F
OURTEEN

Derek was on Spring Circle now, about a block down from his house. When he reached the house, he circled around to the back and quickly scaled the high wooden fence. It felt weird to be coming back home so far ahead of his usual predawn return. He didn’t like it. He swung his legs over the top of the fence and dropped to the ground, a scattering of dead leaves crunching beneath his feet as he landed in a crouch. He came out of the crouch fast and started toward the shed at the rear of the yard.

But he stopped in his tracks when he glimpsed the light emanating from the second-floor bedroom window.

Shit
.

He stood there frozen in indecision for several moments. He was trembling. It made him feel like a pussy. But he couldn’t help it. He’d been caught. In all the time he’d been going out at night, it’d never happened. Right now, while he stood here shaking like a bitch, his parents were up there in his room, staring at an empty bed. He had two options. He could go back inside and take his medicine now. Or he could get his ass back up over that fence and run like the devil until he made it back to the old house. He was sort of leaning in that direction. He could have one more night of fun with his friends before his parents brought the hammer down. He was so pissed. He was about to lose the only thing that kept him sane and he couldn’t understand how it had happened. There was no good reason for his parents to check on him at this time of night. Whatever. It didn’t matter. It had happened, and one way or another, he had to deal with it.

It occurred to him there was a third option, a variation on the second.

He tore his gaze away from the second-floor square of light and stared at the shed. The shed was never locked. He could get inside it and gather the things he needed while making only a minimal amount of noise. The only risk involved would be a chance glance out the window by one of his parents at the wrong time. He was already caught. There was no way around that. He thought about the old house with its boarded-up doors and windows. There might be nothing inside, or there might be all manner of unexpected treasures. It would be a kind of adventure, perhaps the last real adventure he’d have for some time.

He took a deep breath and started toward the shed.

Derek carefully pulled the shed’s door open. It made only a slight creak. He left the door open as he walked into the shed. The open door made him nervous, but it was necessary. He wouldn’t be able to see in the cramped and crowded shed without the benefit of moonlight.

Even with the moonlight, it wasn’t easy to see. There was an overhead bulb, but the light would just heighten the risk of being caught. He banged a knee against a leg of a big worktable and bit back a cry of pain. He moved around the table and examined the tools hanging off a row of pegs on the wall. The crowbar was where he remembered seeing it. He tucked it under an arm as he shuffled over to the far right wall, where there was another workbench with a set of drawers beneath it. The heavy Maglite flashlights were in one of those drawers. He was almost done here, thank fuck.

The overhead bulb popped on.

Derek let out a gasp. The crowbar slipped from his arm and landed with a clatter on the wood plank floor. He whirled around with his heart galloping, but his terror at being caught quickly gave way to astonishment and confusion. His mother stood framed in the open doorway, attired only in a very tiny and flimsy nightie.

She smiled and stepped into the shed, closing the door behind her.

“Hello, DeeDee.”

Derek frowned. “Mom? What’s . . .”

Suzie McGregor had a belt coiled around her right hand, the buckle end dangling. He tried and failed to hold in a whimper as he backed a few steps away from his mother.

“Mom . . . please. I . . .”

Suzie was still smiling. “It’s okay, sweetie. Mommy has to punish you. But after I’ve whipped you, I’ll make you feel better.” She licked her lips and smiled again. “I promise.”

Derek didn’t care for the way his mother was staring at him. At all. It was almost . . . lustful. Also, her nipples were erect and swollen against the fabric of the nightie.

Derek felt sick.

Oh, Christ
. . .

“Mom . . . what’s wrong with you? You . . .” His stomach started knotting up. “I don’t . . . what are you . . .”

Suzie laughed. “Nothing’s wrong with me. You’re the one who’s been naughty. And you know what happens to bad boys, DeeDee. They get spanked. Now get over here and take your medicine.”

Derek didn’t move. He felt paralyzed. He wanted out of this shed and away from his crazy mother. But he was too intimidated by her to force his feet into motion.

She snapped the belt against the edge of the worktable.
“GET OVER HERE!”

Something inside Derek compelled him to obey. He gripped the edge of the worktable to keep from falling over as he approached her.

Suzie was smiling again. “There. Was that so hard? Now drop your pants and bend over.”

“What?”

“You heard me. Now do as you’ve been told, or I’ll make it worse. And you know I can.”

Derek did know that.

He also knew he couldn’t let this happen. If he allowed his fear to control his actions here, some very bad things would happen. Things that might scar him forever. So instead of reaching for the snap of his jeans, he moved away from her and picked up the crowbar. He stood up and saw that his mother’s expression had darkened considerably.

“You little shit. Put that down and get back over here.”

“No.”

He shifted his attention to the workbench. He pulled a drawer open and found the Maglites. There were two of them. He pulled out both, tucking them under an arm as he turned to face his mother again. “I’m going back out. If you try to hit me with that thing . . .” He nodded at the belt. “I’ll hit back.” He hefted the crowbar. “With this.”

Suzie sneered. “You wouldn’t dare.”

Derek smiled. “Maybe. Maybe not. But we’re gonna find out.”

He started toward her.

The shadow of fear that crossed her face in that moment was gratifying. It gave him the last little bit of strength necessary to call her bluff and see this thing through. He wasn’t even shaking now. It was amazing. At school, he was fearless. He never backed down from a fight. But at home it was different. He reverted to scared-little-kid mode every time. Until now. The loss of his fear filled him with a sense of elation. By the time he stepped past his mother, he knew she wouldn’t lash out at him with the belt. Not this time. And not ever again.

“Stay.”

Her voice was lower now, the single syllable a plea rather than a command.

He shook his head. “No. I don’t care what happens after tonight. You’re not gonna hurt me anymore.”

Her face crumpled. “DeeDee, please . . .”

He reached for the door. “No.”

“Stay and I’ll fuck you. Wouldn’t you like that?”

“There’s something really wrong with you, Mom. You know that, don’t you?”

He opened the door and stepped out into the night.

F
IFTEEN

The narrow path that had once served as the abandoned house’s driveway was now so overgrown that any passing motorist was unlikely to spy it. The little break in the trees was easy to miss, unnoticeable to most, and hard to pick out even if you knew where to look. Naturally, it was even trickier to find and negotiate in the dark. Even if you got on the path and started out in the right direction, you might go wandering off the wrong way, winding up deeper into the woods rather than closer to the house.

It was what had happened to Mark the last time he’d come out here at night. But he had been alone that time. It was easier to get lost in the woods when you were on your own. This time, though, he had Natasha and Fiona with him and they were making relatively rapid progress. Jared and Kevin were sitting on the porch. They stood up to greet them as the trio came into the clearing.

Jared nodded at Mark as they came closer. “Yo.”

“Yo.”

“Want a beer?”

“You like pussy?”

Jared squinted. “You’re saying it’s a stupid question?”

“Yeah.”

“Fucker.”

Mark grinned and fished beers out of the Bud carton, passing two of the cans to Fiona and Natasha. They popped the cans open and the five of them stood around shooting the shit and talking about maybe getting inside the house until they heard a crunch of booted feet on dead leaves. They turned toward the source of the sound and saw Derek McGregor striding into the clearing. He was carrying some flashlights and something else. It took Mark a moment to recognize the heavy iron implement as a crowbar.

Derek grinned as he came closer. “Yo, Kevin. You didn’t drink all the fucking beer, did you?”

Kevin smirked. “Saved one or two for ya.”

Jared tilted his chin in Derek’s direction. “Hand me that fuckin’ crowbar.”

Derek passed the crowbar to Jared, who went to work on the boarded-up door right away, wedging the pronged end into the paper-thin space between the board and the door frame. The rest of them stood there sipping their beers as Jared threw himself into the job with a determination that approached frenzy at times. He paused occasionally to insert the pronged end in a different spot, then went immediately back to work, cranking the tool back and forth with gusto, the savage twist of his features reflecting the magnitude of the effort. The board began to grudgingly come away from the frame on one side. The nails that had been used were thick and very long. The wood creaked and splintered in places as it came loose. Jared grunted louder with each crank of the crowbar. Sweat glimmered on his face and rolled down his forehead into his eyes. He blinked the moisture away and kept at the job, soon shifting his focus to the other side of the door. He stopped briefly at one point to strip off his flannel shirt, revealing a black Cannibal Corpse T-shirt beneath. But he otherwise didn’t slow down as he neared completion of the task. Derek snapped on one of the Maglites and aimed the bright beam at the door, causing Jared’s sweat-dripping, flushed face to stand out in stark relief. At last, he let the crowbar fall out of his hands and land with a clank on the porch. He then carefully inserted his big hands into spaces between the nails and began to push the board away from the frame.

He glanced at the others. “Everybody back!”

Mark and the others shuffled back down to the opposite end of the porch. They watched the board come away from the frame. Jared let go of it and the top end landed with a thump on the porch railing. He bent to grip it by the bottom end and grimaced as the ball of a thumb was pricked by a nail.

“Damn!” He shook his hand and then sucked the small welling of blood from his thumb. “Hope I don’t get fucking lockjaw.”

Mark sipped beer. “Tetanus.”

“Whatever.”

He gripped the bottom end of the board again, with much more caution this time, and lifted it up, heaving it over the railing to land nail-side down on the ground. After taking a moment to catch a breath and palm sweat away from his forehead, he reached for something propped in the darkest corner of the porch and hefted it.

A sledgehammer.

Mark didn’t bother asking where it had come from, knowing one of them had stolen it from somewhere, loot from one of their occasional smash-and-grab expeditions into someone’s work shed. Jared set one end of the sledgehammer head against the doorknob, took another deep breath, and lifted it over his head. Mark gripped Natasha’s hand as Jared brought the sledgehammer down. His excitement was growing. They were actually going to see the inside of this place tonight. The doorknob gave way with one blow and the door popped open.

Everyone moved closer as Jared kicked the door the rest of the way open. Mark peered through the open door and his nose crinkled as stale air wafted out. The place didn’t exactly stink, but the air carried with it slight undertones of rot and mustiness. He could dimly discern the outlines of various pieces of furniture, which struck him as strange. He had been sure the former owner would have emptied the place before sealing it up like this. It was possible they could find some pretty interesting things in here.

Jared glanced at Derek. “I’ll take one of those flashlights.”

It wasn’t a request. And considering the amount of work Jared had put into getting them inside, Mark figured he was entitled. Derek stepped past Mark and handed one of the Maglites to Jared, who snapped it on and became the first of the Dark Ones to enter the house. Derek offered the remaining Maglite to Mark, deferring to him the way he usually did, seeing him as the group’s de facto unspoken leader. It usually annoyed Mark. His instinct was to wave off the offer, but he knew Natasha would want him to take it, so he did.

He smiled and glanced at Natasha. She wasn’t smiling. She seemed sort of . . . distant. His own smile faltered as he thought again of his failure to pull out earlier. He knew she was thinking of the same thing, and he experienced a renewed twinge of the dread he’d felt in the moments just after it had happened.

It can wait
, he reminded himself.
Whatever happens, if anything, we’ll deal with it
.

He gave her hand a squeeze and they entered the house.

The thing in the darkness sensed them much more clearly now. They were closer. Oh, so much closer. And there were more of them. It opened its inner eye and reached out again, probing, feeling . . .

Six of them.

Six little souls to feed from and ravage.

The air in the closed space vibrated again with subaudible demonic laughter. They were inside the house now, walking across the creaking floorboards above its prison. It sensed their youth and reveled in it. Young humans were the easiest to exploit and manipulate, and their souls were imbued with an intoxicating energy most adults lacked. Energy that would make it strong again, perhaps stronger than ever, once it was able to feed from them.