Husk

around the handle of a wickedly pointed stoking rod.

“Get away from him,” she screamed.

She charged across the room with a bestial howl and slammed the pole down on the thing’s arm, knocking the knife away. The black terror swung toward her, but she’d already pulled back for a second attack, this time jabbing forward with the tool’s pointed end.

She lunged into the creature with all her might, thrusting the metal tip into its body. The rewarding noise of ripping nylon arose in the dark. She drove the beast to the wall, feeling the stoker’s hooked end erupt from its back and penetrate the sheetrock.

The creature grabbed for her, but she jumped out of reach. It grappled with the stoking rod, pinned to the wall by the tool’s flared hilt.

Taking BJ’s hand, she rushed to the sliding glass door and went for the lock release Mr. Wiess had pointed out earlier. She pressed the small switch with her thumb, but it wouldn’t budge. She pressed harder, pressed until it felt like her thumb would break off.

“You’re not getting out that easily, bitch.”

Lori clapped both hands to her head and each word hammered into her mind.

“I won’t let you.”

The creature pushed away from the wall, letting the rod’s handle rip though the hole she’d made in its body.

“Run, BJ.”

With those two words spoken, she realized that she should’ve been more specific. BJ ran, all right, but not across the kitchen and toward the garage like she’d been thinking. Rather, he broke right, the direction of the front door, then made another right and descended into the basement.

“No,” she yelled, hurrying after him.

Holding firm to the railing, she plunged into the oily blackness of the stairwell. On the upper floors there had been the trifling glow from the nighttime sky outside, but in the basement, darkness ruled every corner.

From overhead the tread of footsteps resumed, moving with purpose.

Lori navigated past the landing using the stairwell wall for a landmark. Like a ship set loose in an uncharted ocean, she drifted into the room with nothing to guide her.

She probed the air ahead in uncertain sweeping motions, convinced she’d smash another foot on something hidden in dark, or knock over an item that would give away her position.

The headless thing will have found its knife by now and be here any second.

Just then, a small light clicked on ahead of her. She found BJ perched at a half-open doorway along the right-hand wall, a penlight in his hand.

He must have grabbed it back in his room, when his nightstand light went out.

Now she could see that the room was virtually empty, save for a few unpacked boxes in the corner, and she almost laughed at her previous worry of a collision.

Without a word, she went with the boy, all the while paying heed to the sound of strained floorboards overhead. BJ led her into the back half of the basement, where a small utility room seemed to be their only source of shelter.

They crept inside and pulled the door shut, listening to the staircase steps rumbled under the monster’s tread.

And it was at that crucial moment when Lori looked to the doorknob of the utility closet and saw no lock on the inside.

???

The Killer reached the closet just moments after the two children, knowing they huddled inside by way of its natural ability to sense the life force of all living things.

It still inhabited the clothing it forged into a body in the attic, having elected not to waste the energy it would’ve required to abandon the vessel, pass through the floor, and construct a new form in the basement. Its ever-increasing powers had far surpassed mere knife-throwing, but the children currently had nowhere left to run, making the meager lead they’d gained all the more insignificant.

It threw open the closet door.

In its gloved hand, it once again held the knife Lori knocked from its grasp, having recovered it from the family room. With it, the entity would make the babysitter’s death a long and painful ordeal, thus showing BJ the consequence of his insurrection.

Lori cowered against the wall, peering up in terror. It relished her fear, anticipating the rush of energy that would spurt from her flesh when it cut the life from her.

It halted.

Glittering slivers of glass lay at the girl’s feet; above her head, the empty frame of a ground-level window opened into the night.

She got the boy out of the house!

With no time to waste, the entity shed the winter clothing for its true, incorporeal state and rushed out the window in pursuit of the child.

CHAPTER 32

Mallory leaned between the two front seats of Derrick’s car and directed him along the back roads that led home. Every now and again he gave her an enticing smile in the rearview mirror, and when he did, she tried her best to hold his stare without blushing.

She sat back in her seat once more when they pulled into the driveway and glanced to Tim. During the ride home, he’d sat quietly at her side, gazing out the window, oblivious to everything but the night. Twice, she’d asked him if his head felt any better, and both times he simply shrugged in response. Only once did he even look at her when he did.

Everyone piled out after Derrick switched off the engine, and Mallory frowned up at the house, not finding a single light in any of the windows.

Behind her, Troy’s battered Bronco parked along the curb and the rest of the group hopped out onto the lawn.

She turned her attention back to Tim. He lingered in the driveway, face expressionless, gazing at his mother’s car.

“So, how are you feeling?” she asked.

“I’ll be fine,” he answered. “I think I’m going to walk home instead of waiting for my mom, though. I’ll talk to you later.”

And with that, he started away.

“Wait a second,” she said, stopping him before he could take another step. “Walk home? That’s like two miles. I can’t let you do that.”

“I’ll be okay,” he began, but she wouldn’t let him finish. He’d paid for her entire evening, she’d had a fabulous time, and she wouldn’t stand to watch him walk off into the night with a migraine. “Come on, you don’t have to walk. My friends can drive you.”

He smirked. “No thanks.”

The others made their way up the driveway, remarking on the house.

“How about a tour?” Elsa asked. “Becky said your pool was huge. Let’s see it.”

“Yeah, sure,” Mallory answered. She just prayed BJ hadn’t trashed the place.

Taking Tim’s hand, she said, “Come inside with us. At least let me give you some medicine for your head. I feel really bad about you having a headache while I was having such a good time tonight.” She put on her most pleading expression and pulled him toward the front steps. Once again, he tried to decline, but she held fast, towing him with her.

Inside, Mallory called toward the second floor. “Hello? Lori? Tim and I are back.”