The Testimony of Jacob Hollow
by Joe Joiner
Chapter 11
Lair of Evil
It was like I had stepped into a dream. My thoughts in those next few minutes were fuzzy and disconnected. Passing my gaze from one companion to the next, I saw them as if seeing their faces for the first time. We were all exhausted and tired of being pursued by the evil denizens of Castle Bay. We were also in awe of the power we had just seen unleashed. At the bottom of the stairs were several smoldering piles of ash, the smoking remnants of Winston’s surprisingly effective use of his strange magic. The combination was causing at least a few mental short-circuits, and apparently not just in my brain. The warm fuzzy feeling from the healing we’d experienced faded rapidly, leaving behind the same anxiousness and paranoia we were used to.
The group wasn’t exactly in shock, but it wasn’t too hard to see that another big surprise would probably push a few of them over the edge of reason and hiding into the depths of some dark corner of their mind. Heck, I was already overloaded by everything that had happened in the last few days, and I wasn’t naïve enough to believe that I’d seen all that Castle Bay had to throw at us. More and more I was starting to think that we had just seen the tip of the iceberg, and what remained would make us question our sanity. We stood on the landing for a few moments just kind of staring around and at each other. Troy then broke the silence, “Okay, Jenny, where do you think we should look first?”
I could tell she wasn’t sure. Years can cloud the memory, and the last time she had been inside Grave’s End was more than a decade past. Even if she could recall things clearly, I doubt she had been very concerned with anything but trying to find her way back out after snatching whatever treasure she had found to show off to her friends. As for me, there was something about the place that tugged at my own mind, something I couldn’t quite place, yet. It would come to me.
Jenny looked up and down the three-way intersection of corridors where we stood. Even the halls had vaulted ceilings and elaborately carved wood trim. What could be seen underneath the layer of dust was impressively crafted and would have been expensive even when the house had been built at the beginning of the last century. The landing where we stood was basically a T shape, with the longest corridor running deeper into the house from the front. Doors lined that hall on both sides, and at the far end I could just see another set of stairs leading up. To the right and left were shorter halls that ended in double doors. One set was carved of solid oak, and the other was also wood but with large etched glass panels set in them. It was to those that she pointed. “I think that’s a library of some sort,” she said.
Winston stepped up. “Mr. Williams, while I would normally argue against our group dividing, it seems that we must. If there is information to be found in that room, I am the logical choice to find it. Perhaps Mr. Dupree could accompany me, while the rest of you seek answers elsewhere.”
I could see Troy mulling it over. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” he said at last. I wasn’t sure, but I thought I saw a flash of irritation across Winston’s normally flaccid features, but it happened so fast I wasn’t positive. Apparently, Troy did see it. “We stick together,” he said, an edge to his voice, “and no arguments.” Whatever protest Holcroft was going to use died behind his thin lips. I could see the big vein in his neck throbbing as he held his anger in check, but not a hint of it surfaced on his face. The man was the epitome of self-control.
He knew something.
What made me so sure of it, I couldn’t guess, but somehow I knew that Winston wanted to explore that library for reasons of his own that didn’t concern the welfare of the group. With only one person accompanying him, he could easily find whatever he was searching for and conceal it in his backpack without being seen. What did he know about this house? Once again, my fear of being thought a fool kept me from speaking. I didn’t want to become the focus of suspicion, and in my mind, the fastest route to that outcome was to try and shift everyone’s attention onto someone else. I may have despised Holcroft, but I wasn’t going to let them that know I did.
Up till then, I had kind of been dismissing Hank. He was good with a gun, and his sense of humor was a welcome addition to a bad situation, but I was usually forgetting he was there until he spoke. I happened to see him watching Winston, and the expression he wore was that of a man deep in thought. “Why don’t you want all of us to go in there?” he asked softly. Brushing past Josh, he stepped in front of Holcroft and peered into his eyes. I was close enough to smell the booze on his breath, and I wondered how many of Winston he was seeing. “What’s in there?”
Holcroft actually snorted and took a step back. His attempt at looking affronted failed miserably. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said. Troy had had enough. He grabbed Holcroft by the arm and practically dragged him down the hall to the library. Without concern for what might be past the doors, he kicked them open and shoved Winston through. Holcroft yelped as he stumbled and fell to the floor. I hid a grin and the rest of us hurried after them. Me, I just wanted to see how this was going to turn out. The humor of the situation quickly faded when we walked through the doors.
It was a library all right, and a big one. Shelves of books covered all five walls of the room. The shelves rose more than fifteen feet, and every one was stacked with thick dusty tomes. The ceiling was even higher, and was a big surprise. It was a glass dome; again, reminiscent of the one over the grand staircase of the Titanic, and the fact that none of the panes were broken after so many years of neglect was uncanny. The opposite wall of the room was a huge picture window, filthy of course, but like the domed ceiling, undamaged. On the far wall and directly beneath the picture window was an elegantly made sofa, perhaps the biggest I’ve ever seen. The back rose more than six feet and the arms were too high to ever be of use. It filled the entire area beneath the window and was the ugliest color green I’ve ever seen. It was also occupied. The corpse sat on one end of the couch and bore a major resemblance to Robert Ripley in that it had been sitting there long enough to become mummified by the dry atmosphere of the house. It had once been a man, the dress shirt and tie made that clear. Blotches of mold covered the shirt and slacks. Now that I had seen the body, I realized I could smell it. I guess we were getting used to the dead smell of Castle Bay, because none of us had noticed it getting stronger until we were practically on top of it. It wasn’t much stronger, he’d been sitting there long enough to dry out pretty good, but enough odor hung around him to make you gag if you got too big a whiff.
But it was the carpet that got everyone’s attention. Once I saw the design woven into the rug shivers went up and down my spine. It was a pentagram, and each point of the star ended in a corner of the room. Winston had fallen onto the very center of the star. Troy stood over him, shocked to the core. Joshua giggled behind me, “Have a nice trip?” I thrust my elbow back and got him in the ribs. Hard. He gasped and stumbled back with a half-hearted threat that I had better not touch him again.
“Great googly-moogly,” Hank whispered. “Is that what I think it is?” He rubbed his eyes and stared again.
“You’re not seeing things,” Troy replied, stepping away from Winston and taking care not to step on any part of the inverted star as he backed up.
Winston got to his feet and brushed himself off. He gave the floor no more than a glance and went directly to the nearest set of shelves. Nothing was said about his rough treatment at Troy’s hands, and he looked at no one. The silence stretched out uncomfortably. Nikki broke it. “What kind of library is this?” she asked, and I realized she wasn’t staring at the books or the floor, but instead at the sole piece of furniture in the room and the body on it.
“What’s that on his lap?” Hank asked, leaning over to peer across the room. Like the rest of us, he didn’t want to walk across the pentagram. I could see that it was a box of some kind, and that the corpse had both hands grasping it. Obviously he had been holding it when he died.
Nikki went past me into the room. “Come on,” she urged. “We need to see.” She didn’t seem to be bothered by the evil symbol on the floor, in fact, she stepped on the lines without any apparent ill effect, so we followed her. Reluctantly, I might add.
Troy joined us, if only to get further from Winston. “Let’s make this fast,” he said. “The idea of spending the night here isn’t very appealing.” I agreed with him. With the exception of Holcroft, who was engrossed in the books, we all got a good close look. He wasn’t that much different close up except that we could smell him better, but like I said, that wasn’t really bad. The box he held didn’t seem that special, just a simple wooden container with a removable lid. It was covered with gilded swirls on all sides, but the lid had only a single marking, a rune of some kind that looked like half of a candelabra. “We best leave that alone,” Troy warned.
“It might tell us something if we look inside,” Nikki argued, but Troy shook his head.
“I think it’s what killed the poor bastard,” he explained.
“How can a box kill someone?” Nikki wondered aloud. I admit that by then I was curious enough to want a peek. Troy, however, stood his ground. “Look at him,” he said. “There’s not a mark on the guy. No bullet wounds, no claw marks, he’s pretty much intact, but still just as dead. Even the demons and the imps would have done more damage if they had been the ones to kill him, so what did?”
I could see he was right, and almost took a step back, as if the box were radioactive, or something. I was standing next to Nikki, and when I glanced up at her I was surprised to see her staring at the corpse’s face. “What?” I asked.
She shook her head. “I’m not sure,” she said, “but I think I know him.” She knelt on one knee and leaned closer, peering at the withered face and sunken eyes. “It kind of looks like Dr. Schulmeister. He liked wearing funny ties, and I remember this one.” It was a solid blue tie with a large yellow grinning happy face on it. Yeah, the guy had definitely been a nerd. Only a geek would wear such an ugly thing around his neck.
Well, someone had to ask, so I did. “Who’s that?” Like my knowing would make a difference. Dead is dead.
“He worked at Biocyte. He didn’t show up for work a few weeks ago. Everyone was wondering about him because he was a nice man and so dedicated to his work. You know, the kind that comes in early and stays late because they love what they do. He left everything in his lab. I wonder how he ended up here?” She gently touched the knee of the corpse, and all of us saw her stiffen.
Nikki’s entire body shook as if being electrocuted. “What the hell?” Hank said as he stumbled back. Nikki’s eyes were wide and her mouth was open in a silent scream. I slung my rifle over my shoulder and grabbed her under her arms. I tried to pull her back, but her hand had clenched around Schulmeister’s knee. “Let go, Nikki,” I pleaded, but she was beyond hearing me. I saw a single tear fall from her eye. “Nikki, let go!” I yelled in her ear, wrapping my arms around her and pulling as hard as I could, hoping I wasn’t going to drag the corpse with her. Suddenly her hand relaxed and we both tumbled backwards to the floor. She fell on me, driving the wind from my lungs and the top of her head busting me in the chin, driving my teeth together with a clack and filling my vision with entire constellations. That’s how hard she hit me. I also landed on my backpack, the contents cushioning some of the impact but a few sharp corners still dug painfully into my back. The bolt of the Underwood speared my armpit and I bit back a yelp of agony. I wouldn’t have been surprised to see it sticking out the front of my shirt. It felt like it was going right through me. Then she screamed.
It was a shriek that went through all of us like an icy wind, and I heard it echo through the house. Through the pain in my mouth I saw Winston drop the book he’d been examining and hustle over. Still, I kept my arms around her as she wailed, waiting for whatever it was to pass as the rest of them gathered around us. Eventually, it did. Her wail tapered off to a soft whimper, and she went limp. She was trembling all over, and she wasn’t doing anything to extricate herself from my arms. It was almost as if she needed the contact.
The group was gathered around us, even Winston, and were staring down not knowing what to do. I suppose they were waiting for me to do something other than just lie there, but she had me pinned. I’m a lightweight, and Nikki weighed at least as much as I do. I lowered my head to the floor while I waited for her fit to end. I stared at the feet of my companions, and then something struck me. I did a quick count. Nikki and I on the floor made two, leaving five people around us, so why was I seeing six pairs of shoes? I let go of Nikki and yelped, “Shit!”
Schulmeister’s corpse was standing behind them. I tried scuttling backwards but with Nikki still holding me down I didn’t get far. I lifted my hand and pointed. “Troy!” He looked up and saw the zombie, and I swear to God, the man paled. The rest of them made the realization too late. By the time they understood that something was behind them, it had already dropped the box, grabbed Josh, jerked him back, and was trying to sink its teeth into the back of his neck.
You can imagine Josh’s reaction and the scream that came with it. His entire body went rigid as the ghastly thing’s teeth gnashed at his neck. Only the thick letterman’s jacket he wore saved him from what was sure to be the worst hickey he’d ever had. Now, up until then I’d never really seen anyone pass out, so I was kind of surprised when Josh went limp and slumped to the floor. The zombie held on all the way down and continued trying to chew on him until both Hank and Troy took hold of its withered arms and yanked it off the boy. The box landed near my left shoe, and I jerked my foot away from it. After Troy’s observations, having it even that close was too much for me.
This time the fight wasn’t even close. Dried out like old parchment, the animated corpse had very little weight. They stepped away from us and threw it toward the library doors. It hit the carpet with a thud, raising a small cloud of dust. It lay still for a moment, then slowly dragged itself to shaky feet. Sunken eye sockets seemed to glare at them as it took three shuffling steps, lifting shriveled arms as if to embrace them.
Hank’s shotgun boomed and a ragged hole was blown right through the chest. A dusty spray of desiccated organs, dried skin and bone blew out the back and littered the rug. Schulmeister staggered back but didn’t go down. A second shot thundered in the room, and this time Hank’s aim was better. The zombie’s head vanished as the cloud of pellets tore through it, leaving the dried stump of the neck jutting up from the blackened and shredded collar and scattering teeth on the floor. The corpse swayed and then toppled. I heard bones breaking as it hit the floor. The force that had been animating it was gone. The puppeteer had left the stage, leaving the marionette behind.
Josh was whimpering where he had fallen, curled up in a ball of fear. Nikki still had me pinned, and in any other circumstance I might have found it fun, but her body still trembled, and instead I felt afraid for her, wondering if she would snap out of the fugue that gripped her like an iron vise. Sure, it was a little hard to breathe, but I figured that sooner or later they’d remember I was down there.
Hank and Troy returned from zombie slaying to gently lift Nikki off of me. I took a whopping breath of air, enjoying the feel of my lungs expanding to full capacity. They carefully placed her on the opposite end of the sofa from where Schulmeister had been; easing her down gently while Jenny fanned her face with an old rolled up newspaper. I was pretty much forgotten, so I got up without any help.
Nikki seemed to be recovering from whatever it was, but slow tears were moving down her cheeks, and she still hugged herself tight enough for her knuckles to turn white. “It was horrible,” I heard her say.
“What happened, Nikki?” Troy asked her, and she looked up at him. Her eyes were glazed, her skin had lost the healthy glow I was so enamored of, and her chin quivered as she fought against the terror that was trying to possess her. “I saw it,” she whispered. “I saw him die.” She shuddered. “I felt him die. It was horrible.”
“Was it the box?” Troy asked her, and she nodded. We all glanced over at the doctor’s shattered remains.
When Nikki touched the poor soul, she relived the last few minutes of his life. It was pretty informative, until he opened the box. “There’s something in there,” she said, strength beginning to seep back into her voice. “Something evil.” Her gaze fell to the small wooden container on the floor. “Don’t touch it. Please don’t anyone touch it.”
No problem for most of us, we took her word for it. I was willing to forget the damn thing existed and just leave it where it lay. Holcroft was more curious. He stooped to examine it, but remained careful not to come into contact with it. “I’m not an expert on antiques,” he said, twisting his body to see all sides, “but I believe I have seen one of these before. The engraving and inscription appear to be Nordic.” He absently stroked his beard. “This could be a seidr box, used by ancient Scandinavian sorcerers in divination rites. They were thought to contain reliquaries of powerful magicians and either blessed or cursed runestones. If this caused Mr. Schulmeister’s death, I would guess the latter are within. Anyone opening it without first using the proper incantations would pay the ultimate price for their foolish curiosity, which seems to have happened to the unfortunate doctor.” He stood up. “I am reluctant to leave it here, as any museum would pay dearly for such an item if I am correct, and it is authentic. They are rather rare and valuable, but I am quite content to leave it lie. The temptation to open it might be too much for some people.” The last was said with a downward glance at the prone teenager. No one argued with him.
“I’m liking this place less and less,” Troy said. “Let’s get out of here.” He strode across the room and practically tore the doors off their hinges throwing them open.
You would think that by now Troy would have grown wary enough of Castle Bay to expect the unexpected and to not let a short reprieve from violence and terror catch him off guard. Hell, I thought he was the last man on earth who would ever be caught off his guard. All I can think of is that it was maybe the house was getting to him, and he just wanted out. In his mind, it was better to face what you could see coming, and there were too many dark corners in this place. So when he slammed open the doors and revealed someone standing there, it left him bewildered just long enough for the stranger to take action before the ex-Ranger could get off a shot. He grabbed Troy by the neck and lifted him as easily as you or I might hoist a kitten with one hand. The big man hung in his grip, his strangled breath gurgling in his throat as he struggled to breathe. “I don’t remember inviting you in,” the man said, his voice deep and harsh, with a trace of accent I couldn’t immediately place.
We were frozen, unable to act. All of us were just shocked into numbness by the sudden and frightening appearance of this person who shook Troy’s two-hundred plus pounds like a rag doll, and one-handed at that. Hank came around first, shaking his head and slowly lifting his rifle. The man snorted laughter and threw Troy at Hank, sending them both to the floor and their weapons clattering out of reach. I saw the back of Hank’s head smack the floor hard and he went still. Troy was fortunate enough to land on Hank and escaped any further injury.
The man’s strength surprised me as much as his appearance. He was tall and broad, but not overly large, which made his physical power all the more astonishing. His head was completely bald with numerous scars and pustules spread across his pate. He was possessed of a small but elegant nose and a firm commanding chin. You could see that he had once been a handsome man, but something had turned his features heinous and ugly. He wore simple slacks and a white short sleeve shirt that was stained with what looked like small dots of red paint, but I knew it wasn’t paint. Even his plain white sneakers were spotted with it. The one thing I couldn’t tell was his age. He could have been anywhere between thirty-five and fifty-five, and he wore an aura of agelessness like a sweater. “You fools,” he growled.
We were frozen. None of us could take the slightest action. My own rifle was hanging behind me, completely forgotten, useless as a piece of lumber. Hank was stunned and his shotgun was out of reach, but Troy was quicker to come around and recover his senses since he had fallen on Hank. His crash to the floor had been cushioned. In the space of seconds, and before the man could advance more than two steps into the library, he rose to one knee and pulled a wicked looking semi-automatic from inside his coat. “Freeze, asshole,” he said menacingly, aiming the barrel at the furrowed brow. “I mean it, Gerhard.”
Another stunning revelation. This was the owner of Graves End and the man Troy had come to Castle Bay for. At the mention of his name a look of confusion crossed his face. Then it hardened and the shine in his eyes grew even more malicious. “You know nothing,” he said. Damn, I knew that accent, short clipped words, his S’s sounding more like Z’s, somewhat guttural. I knew I’d heard it before, but where?
Troy slowly got to his feet, never letting the gun waver. “I know who you really are,” he said.
Gerhard’s eyebrows lifted with an expression of sudden understanding. “I see,” he replied, his voice lowering to a throaty whisper. “The Alliance?” At Troy’s nod he chuckled. “I dared to think they had given up. You have come for me, then?”
Troy stood tall, and for some inane reason, I was suddenly proud to know him and call him friend. “You have crimes to pay for,” he snarled. He was getting angry. Without looking at us, he barked an order. “See to Hank.” Jenny and Nikki both stooped to help the still unconscious man, with Jenny gently patting his face.
“Ancient history, mister… bounty… hunter.” He bit the words as they exited his mouth as if they left a bad taste behind. Gerhard wasn’t too happy. Either from us being in his house, or Troy knowing something he didn’t like. Probably both. I was amazed at his fortitude. He wasn’t carrying a weapon, yet he stared down Troy’s gun as if it wasn’t a concern. Foolish or crazy, I couldn’t tell.
“You were found guilty, sentenced to death. That sentence has yet to be carried out, and the blood of innocents demands it.”
Gerhard took a step forward. Troy stepped back but kept the gun steady. I heard Josh whimpering behind me. He’d woken up just in time to catch the show. At that time I was wishing I was out of it. “And you? Are you to be my executioner, mister bounty hunter?”
“If need be,” Troy said. “They want you alive. They want to watch you die, but your corpse will still get me paid.”
“Ha! They are fools. Descended of the fools who condemned me all those years ago. Condemned for doing my duty.” A flush had risen in his pale cheeks. Oh yeah, he was really getting worked up, but he didn’t know Troy enough to recognize that he was dangerous. “You are a fool to think that you can take me to them, and not so much a fool to shoot an unarmed man.” He took one step toward Troy. “Wrong,” Troy growled, and the semi-auto bucked in his hand.
Gerhard staggered back as the slug hit him in the upper left shoulder. Then he recovered and straightened up. A large red blotch now stained his shirt where the bullet had struck and was spreading. His eyes were hard. “You will pay for that,” he said menacingly. If he felt pain he didn’t show it. His right hand reached up to the wound and I watched in horror as he thrust two fingers into the bloody hole. He didn’t even flinch as he dug around and then pulled out the dripping bullet and dropped it on the floor. His gaze moved over each of us, and I don’t know about them, but my blood went cold when his eyes met mine. I could almost feel him marking my face into his memory. Then I heard Nikki chamber a shell in her shotgun, and I quickly brought the Underwood around and aimed it right at him.
Gerhard laughed, and I’ve never heard such an evil cackle in my life. “Fair enough,” he said, backing slowly toward the door. “The next time we meet, I will not be as unprepared.”
“Stop, Gerhard!” Troy commanded, but the man ignored him.
He raised his bloody right hand. “You have drawn my blood,” he said, wiggling the digits at us. “Now I will draw yours. One of you will never leave this house. The rest I will claim in my own good time.” Then he was gone as suddenly as he had appeared. One second he was there, the next he had vanished. The doors to the library remained open, but whether he had gone through them I couldn’t remember. Like a wisp of vapor he’d simply evaporated. “Did anybody else see that?” I asked.
Troy was perplexed. “Damn,” I heard him whisper. There was something else I could see lurking behind his eyes. Something I didn’t like seeing.
Fear.
Hank moaned as he came around. “What happened?” he asked, rubbing his head and holding his ribs. His breathing was strained, so having Troy fall on him must have knocked all the air out of his lungs and made breathing normally a bit painful.
Jenny patted his face and offered him one of her heart-stopping smiles. “Heroes,” she said. “Why does every man think there’s a hero somewhere inside him?”
He stared at her almost like he had never seen her before, and I knew that angelic beauty of hers was working on him. “Well, Miss, purty gals just make us stupid.” He sat up, shook his head and looked to Troy. “What now, Hoss?”
Troy slowly got to his feet. He glanced around the room but his eyes jumped back to the doors and the hallway beyond. "We get the hell out of here," he said, “and we do it now.”
We gathered our weapons and waited for Troy to lead us out. I saw Winston eyeing the seidr box, but he made no move toward it. If he had, I probably would have shot him myself, I was that edgy. Then Holcroft straightened his jacket and pushed his way through the group. “Perhaps you need to explain to us what just happened, Mr. Williams,” he demanded. Boy, oh boy. Some people just love to push their luck.
Troy glared at him. “I’ll come clean when you do, Holcroft. Until then, shut the hell up.” He pushed Winston aside and carefully peered out of the library. “Okay, it’s clear. Let’s move.” Without waiting for any of us top respond, he walked out, his gun ready to blow away the first thing that moved.
Josh had recovered and was bringing up the rear with Winston. I saw him rubbing his neck checking for bites, and he visibly sighed with relief when he didn’t find any. We left the library but didn’t head back down the stairs. Instead, Troy made a right at the intersection and took us down the narrow hallway. “Do you know where you’re going?” I heard Jenny ask him.
“No, but Gerhard will expect us to use the stairs, and I’m not falling into any of his traps.”
She voiced what had already gone through my mind. “What if he expects you to expect that and is waiting for us this way?”
Troy didn’t stop moving. “The easiest way out is the way we came in. I’m not taking that route. This house has to have a back door somewhere.”
There were four doors in that hallway, two on either side. Troy didn’t bother checking them. At the end of the hallway was another corridor stretching to either side. To the left was a solid door, and to the right was another staircase. Not as ornate as the one we had come up, but I imagined it would work just as well. This one also went up as well as down. I prayed Troy would take the downward path.
He did and I covered my own sigh of relief. Down meant out as far as I was concerned. “Walk near the edge of each stair where it meets the wall,” he instructed. “Less noise that way.” He showed us what he meant and we slowly made our way down. If anything had attacked us we would have been easy targets, but nothing jumped out.
The stairs made only the slightest of creaks as we shuffled along. It seemed like the descent was taking hours, but I knew that only minutes passed before we were grouped together at the bottom. We were standing in another fairly open area, but like the stairs, not as stylish as the entrance foyer. “The kitchen is through those doors,” Jenny said, pointing to another set of double doors.
“And that one?” Troy asked, pointing to a single door to our right.
Jenny shrugged. “I don’t know. This is as far into the house as I’ve ever been. I know the kitchen is through there,” she pointed to the double doors again, “but you’re guess is as good as mine for anywhere else.”
I could see him mentally debating where to lead us. If you asked me, the kitchen was a bad idea. Too many sharp knives and other heavy objects easily used as weapons. But since no one did ask, I as usual kept quiet.
“That way,” he finally said. “Let’s check it out.” We headed for the single door.
For the most part it was completely ordinary., Just a plain wooden door covered with the dust and grime of ages, and totally harmless in appearance. The only thing out of the ordinary was the silver knob. Even through the patina of dust I could tell it was the real thing. Probably a very expensive knob when the place was built, and worth a whole lot more now. It was another mystery of Graves End. Things like silver knobs were easy pickings for itinerant wanderers, and should have been stolen years ago. The fact that it was still there said a lot.
Troy grabbed it and jerked his hand back. “Youch!” he yelped.
“Burn ya?” Hank asked.
Troy was shaking his hand. “Damn thing is colder than hell. Feels like it was soaked in dry ice.”
You’d think that would have been a good enough sign to go the other direction. It would have been for me, but Troy was stubborn about being right and always looking like he had things under control. He grabbed the knob again, gave it a turn and opened the door.
I don’t know what I was expecting, but I had the rifle up and ready to fire. All that the open portal revealed was empty blackness and another set of steps leading into a stygian blackness into what I could only assume was the basement of the house. “No freakin’ way,” I muttered. Troy glanced back at me, unamused. I could see he wanted to go down there, and resolved that I would never set foot on those steps. Josh brushed past me to get a better look, an act of unparalleled bravery on his part. He sniffed at the deep darkness with disdain. “Stinks down there,” he said. “Like something died.”
Hank came to our rescue. Peering over Josh’s shoulder, he mumbled, “Looks tight. Not much space to move around.”
Apparently Troy agreed. “Okay, we stay out of the cellar. Jenny, get us out of here.”
I heard it first, long before anyone saw it coming. It wasn’t much, just a series of slight clicks and soft taps on the wooden steps. It was a stealthy movement that I only heard because I happened to be looking there. Everyone else had turned their backs on the door; a foolish thing to do considering everything we had seen in Castle Bay so far, but maybe Winston’s new powers were making them careless and complacent. What I saw in the seconds before it struck was just a gray shadow moving in the darkness, and before I could mouth a warning two long, spindly, bright red legs tipped with gleaming claws shot from the opening and grabbed Josh. He at first thought it was one of us and only said, “Hey,” before getting a look at what was holding onto him. Then he shrieked as the legs began to draw him back, lifting him several inches off the floor.
The spider loomed out of the doorway. Huge, hairy and clacking it’s enormous fangs together as it drew in its prey, we were all stunned, unable to move. I could see our group reflected in the faceted eyes, and I felt myself becoming lost in them as the fear swelled in my chest. As children, insects are usually not scary. Kids slap an ant off their leg without thinking about it, chase fireflies with joy, and cradle ladybugs in their cupped hands to sing them a song. Only the spider inspires fear just in mentioning it. Eight legs, sharp fangs and poison bring about our fear and loathing of the arachnid. Tell any person; man, woman or child that they have a spider on their back, and they will immediately start slapping at themselves or beg you to rid them of it. Yet we still are the larger, and a spider is squashed underfoot as easily as the ant (and probably more eagerly).
Now the roles had been reversed, and we were faced with an unnatural giant of the species, and it awoke every childhood fear.
Not until it had sunk it’s fangs into the back of Josh’s neck and he screamed did we react.
Hank’s shotgun boomed, shaking dust and bits of blaster from the walls. The spider; though huge, was doomed. They lack the hard shell of insects like the scorpions we had faced, and the shot pellets tore through it like paper. Green gore splattered and it dropped Josh. It squealed (a sound I never want to hear again) and dropped to the floor with a meaty thud. Troy grabbed Josh and hauled him off. The kid was completely limp but moaning softly. Hank chambered another round. “I hate bugs,” he growled and unloaded both barrels into the head.
Splat.
I brushed off the goo that had sprayed on me. “Yuck.” I moved over to where Troy, Jenny and Nikki were crouched around Josh. “It got him good,” I heard him say. He had pulled back Josh’s collar to reveal two swollen punctures. The wounds were puffy and oozed a sickly yellow crud that I assumed was the beast’s poison. Nikki was gently dabbing at it with a piece of cloth torn from her skirt.
I asked, “Is he okay?” and instantly felt like an idiot for even asking.
Jenny didn’t even look up. “It depends on what this shit does to his insides. A grown adult can usually shrug off a spider bite, but he got a huge dose. That can’t be good.” Troy slammed the butt of his rifle against the floor. “Damned if I’m carrying the little bastard,” he said. “He better come around fast.”
Nikki stared at him unbelieving at what she’d heard. “We can’t just leave him,” she pleaded.
Troy stared back unflinchingly. “Watch me,” he said evenly. I believed him. I hadn’t been with them at the beginning, but I’d seen enough to know that Josh was dead weight. A burden they had borne because he was a living person and not one of the walking dead. For that reason alone they’d let him tag along. Now he was more of a burden than anyone wanted to carry. Literally. Troy, and maybe Hank could probably chuck him over a shoulder like a potato sack for a while, but my skinny frame wasn’t built for that. Josh chose that moment to come around. “Wha’ happen?” he asked, sounding like he’d just woken up from an afternoon nap. He slowly got to his knees. “I don’t feel so good,” he said weakly, and then puked all over Troy’s boots.
Boy oh boy. What a day this was turning out to be.