house.
“You’re certain it wasn’t just another nightmare?” she asked. “We’ve been through this before. You know how real they can be.”
Jerry shook his head. “We should’ve left when we had the chance.”
Turning away, he extracted a .44 revolver from the nightstand, keeping his gaze trained on the bedroom door. When he looked back to his wife, she’d already retrieved the Remington pump-action shotgun from under her side of the bed, just like they’d practiced.
“Stay here,” he said.
He eased out of bed and walked toward the hallway, holding the gun ready. He forced himself to keep his finger on the trigger guard rather than the trigger itself, afraid his shaking hands might fire the gun prematurely.
Clearing the doorway, he crept down the hall to where the stairs overlooked the foyer. Below, the reassuring red light of the front door’s new security panel glowed in the darkness:
He exhaled his fear in one great breath. If anyone lurked down there, the motion sensors would’ve detected them the moment they entered the room.
But maybe it was over; maybe Kern was right?
Lightning flashed outside. It lit the huge window in the adjoining living room and displaced the darkness, illuminating a collage of muddy footprints splattered across the carpet.
Jerry’s heart convulsed.
His jaw trembled; his legs weakened.
“No,” he whispered, clutching the railing for balance.
Darkness devoured the sight, but not before he saw the tracks proceeded up the stairs.
Then it came again, the noise he’d heard earlier.
Not wind. Not rain.
Someone moving through the darkness.
His skin went cold, and he whirled around, tracing the footprints back to the bedroom door, where they faded to nothing more than outlines on the carpet.
Margaret screamed.
“Not her,” Jerry cried.
Bounding faster, he came through the door to find the source of his dread looming at the bedside, silhouetted against the far window. Margaret thrashed on the mattress, battling to free herself from a cocoon of bed sheets wrapped tight around her head and held fast by the attacker’s hand behind her back. Her muffled cries came to him like the screams of a drowning swimmer.
The intruder stood silent, unmoving. Resisting Margaret’s violent struggle elicited no signs of strain whatsoever.
“Get away from her,” Jerry yelled. He thrust the gun forward. “You’re not welcome here.
Despite the strength of his words, a cold sweat beaded on his forehead.
“Need you,” the trespasser replied.
“No,” Jerry cried. “Find someone else to torment. I’m not going to help you. I
Another flash of light played across the sky, and Jerry gasped at what it revealed: his old flannel shirt; Margaret’s faded blue jeans with the patches on the knees. The intruder had taken the clothes off the scarecrow from their garden and now filled the mud-covered garments to the point of nearly bursting the seams. Jerry trembled at the nightmarish sight, mumbling “please” over and over again in a child-like whimper. His eyes searched the dirty burlap sack that made up the thing’s head for the slightest sign of mercy, but no details had ever been added to the simulated head to create a face. The only response to his pleas came in the form of a blank, expressionless stare.
Thunder boomed, shaking the house around them.
The scarecrow extended its free hand, holding forward an old, wooden-handled shovel.
“No,” Jerry mewed. “I won’t.”
The scarecrow’s face wrinkled, creasing into a look of rage. “You have no choice!”
On the bed, Margaret’s wild movements had dwindled to weak clawing actions.
“
With tears slipping from his eyes, he sighted the weapon on the center of the wadded bed sheets and blew two bloody holes through his wife’s shrouded head.
Then, acting before the maniac scarecrow could stop him, he rammed the hot barrel under his chin and fired again.
CHAPTER 2
Mallory’s eyes widened as her father turned the corner and guided his Ford Expedition into the driveway of her new home.
“Holy shit, Dad, this is yours?”
“Hey,” Paul Wiess laughed. “Easy on the four letter words around your brother.”
“You’re in trouble!” BJ sang from his booster seat in the back.
“Shut up,” she replied. “Sorry, Dad. Won’t happen again.”
“I hope not.”
“My friends are going to be so jealous, though. Becky’s going to flip when she sees this place.”
“I guess I never really considered that during the selection process.”
The house looked like a castle compared to their old home in the city, and she stared in wonder at the wide front porch, three-car garage, brick outer walls, and multi-gabled rooftop.
“I want to be the first in the pool,” BJ, declared, slurping from a juice box.
Mallory rolled her eyes. “Will you stop saying that already? You’re six; you can’t even swim yet.”
“So?”
“So, I’m sick of hearing about all the things you want to do first in the new house. It’s not like you have to wait in line to get in.”
BJ leaned forward and burped at her.
“Freak,” Mallory snapped.
“Okay, you two,” her dad said, “let’s get your stuff out of the back. We can have lunch before setting up your rooms.”
Mallory exited the vehicle and went to unlatch the cargo door of the U-Haul trailer hitched to the rear of the Ford. “How many bedrooms are there?”
“Four on the second floor, one on the main level, and room for another in the basement if you like. You can take your pick.”
Mallory whistled. “Are you running a hotel here or what?”
Her dad gazed at the building. “I know it’s a bit much for a bachelor. It’s just that, since your mom and I split up, I guess it makes me feel more like… Well, like I’m still part of a family.”
A hint of sadness entered her father’s expression at the mention of her parents’ recent separation, and Mallory realized she’d been skirting the issue during the last three months since the divorce. She knew they should talk about it, that she should tell him she didn’t hold any resentment toward either of them, but on the few occasions when the subject had come up the words knotted in her throat, making it difficult to speak. Switching the subject was so much easier.
Unable to meet the hurt look in her dad’s eyes, she redirected her gaze to where they’d come from. At the
