The edges were blunt and narrow. He wedged it between the boards and pushed. The nails creaked. The board moved. Spirits rising, Barry dropped the sign, stood back, and kicked the plywood. The sole of his sneaker absorbed most of the impact, but his foot throbbed. The pain was nothing compared to how the rest of his body felt. Clenching his teeth, he kicked the board again. The plywood clattered to the floor inside.
Barry grabbed the flashlight, clicked it on, and cautiously crawled through the window. He' d been inside the utility shed thousands of times, but it had never scared him until now. In the darkness, once familiar shapes now became something sinister lurking in the corner.
He stood overtop the hole in the center of the floor and listened, hoping to hear an indication that his friends were still down thereand alive. Instead, he was greeted by silence.
He found the crowbar, went back outside, and pried the hasp off the doors, lock and all. The doors swung open. Barry retrieved his father' s keys, climbed up onto the backhoe, and crossed his fingers. Taking a deep breath, he inserted the key into the ignition and turned it.
The backhoe roared to life.
Exhaling, Barry turned on the headlights and drove it out into the graveyard. Awoken by the rumbling engine, his father stirred, glancing about slowly. Shit, Barry thought, If he regains consciousness he could screw this whole thing up. Leaving the engine running, he put the backhoe in park and hopped down. He ran back into the shed, found some long black bungee cords, and wrapped them around his father 's chest, abdomen, and shoulders, tying him to the monument. After making sure they were tight, Barry stood back and smiled.
His old man had fallen unconscious again.
Barry spit in his face.
The sky grew lighter.
The tunnel broadened and all at once, Timmy found himself stepping into a large, roughly circular chamber. He gasped, not so much from fright, but from the scene before him. The dirt floor was littered with bones and other body fragments. A shattered skull stared back at him. His flashlight beam disappeared into its hollow eyes. The ceiling was high, much higher than in the network of tunnels, and Timmy got the impression that he was deep below the cemetery now. It felt like the earth itself was pressing down on him. But neither the bones nor the atmosphere were what made him gasp. It was the women.
There were two of them. Katie's older sister, Karen, and another woman whom Timmy didn't recognize. He assumed that she was the missing woman he' d heard about on the news. Both of them were dressed in rags, their clothing soiled and torn to shreds. Despite his overwhelming dread, Timmy felt a dark thrill go through him at the sight of Karen Moore' s breasts. He immediately felt guilty, but his eyes were drawn back to them again. They were covered with red scratches. Both women ' s hands and feet were bound with thick roots and vines, tied together in crude knots, and then looped around large, heavy logs, insuring that they wouldn ' t escape. A corner of the chamber was covered with feces; most of it theirs, he assumed.
The larger piles probably belonged to the ghoul itself. The two women huddled together on a pile of straw and grass, staring at Timmy with wide, horrified eyes.
'Um.' He wasn't sure what to say.
'I… know you…' Karen spoke haltingly, hesitant, as if she'd forgotten how to talkor was afraid to. Her voice was hoarse and scratchy. 'From… church?'
Swallowing, Timmy nodded. 'Yeah, you do. I'm Timmy Graco, Randy and Elizabeth Graco's son. I'm your sister's…'he started to say boyfriend, but caught himself '…
friend.'
The other woman said nothing. She simply stared at him, that frozen, horrified expression never leaving her face.
Timmy smiled, trying to reassure them.
'Are you okay?' he asked Karen.
She nodded slowly, as if unsure what the word meant. 'I… weit hurt us. Did… things.' Karen began to make clicking sounds in her throat. She looked as if she might start screaming. Slowly, Timmy stepped toward them. The other woman shrank away, pressing her back against the dirt wall.
'Look,' Timmy said, keeping his voice calm and soft, 'I've come to rescue you. I'll get you out of here.'
Both women whimpered. Tears rolled down Karen's dirty face. The other woman fixated on the knife in Timmy's hand.
'It's okay,' he whispered. 'I'm just going to use it to cut you free.' She shook her head, trembling harder.
'Her name is… Deb,' Karen rasped. 'Her first night here… all she did was scream. She… hasn't said anything since.'
Timmy sawed at Karen's bonds first, so that with any luck, Deb would see he didn' t mean them any harm. This close to them, he tried to ignore their nudity. It was easier than he 'd imagined. Both captives stank of unwashed bodies and something elsesomething fishy, almost like almonds or ammonia. He was afraid to ask what it was. Their pale skin was covered with cuts and scratches and a fine sheen of dried blood and the ghoul ' s slime. When he was finished freeing her, Karen rubbed her wrists and ankles. Both had red circles where the vines had rubbed the flesh raw. As her circulation returned, he moved over to the other woman. She cowered, moving as far away from him as she could.
'It's okay,' Timmy said. 'I promise. I'm just going to get you loose, like I did her.' She shook her head and turned away from him, squeezing her eyes shut. Timmy sighed in exasperation. 'Why doesn't she believe me?'
'Because,' Karen said, 'she thinks you're going to… do what he's been doing to us.'
'Who?'
Karen frowned. 'That thing.'
'The ghoul?'
She nodded. 'Is that what it is?'
Rather than answering, Timmy tried again to free the frightened woman.
'Don't scream,' he told her. 'I'm not going to hurt you.' He raised the knife, and she whined, the start of a shriek building in her throat.
'Okay,' he said, and dropped the knife again. 'Shhh. Don't scream. It's okay. I put it down.'
Her scream turned into a fearful sigh.
Timmy turned to Karen. 'Do you know where it is now?'
'It feeds at night. Usually comes back just before dawn. That's when it… that's when it happens. After that, it sleeps.'
Timmy paused, listening for the sounds of the backhoe. He didn't hear anything. He wondered if he'd even be able to hear it this far below the surface.
'The sun will be up soon,' he told Karen. 'We' ve got to get you both out of here before the ghoul comes back. See if you can help me cut her loose. Then the two of you head straight down that tunnel. It goes for a long way, but keep following it.'
'What about you?'
'I've got to find my friend, Doug Keiser. Do you know him?' She paused; then nodded. 'Fat kid? Yeah, I know him. Hangs around with you and the Smeltzer kid. I remember now. All three of you guys used to talk to Pat… he liked you. I 'd forgotten. Forgot about… Pat.'
Her face blanched, and Timmy thought she might scream. Instead she swooned. He propped her up while she shook against him, her entire body quivering.
'Is he okay?' she asked. 'Patis he alive?'
'Yeah,' Timmy lied. 'Sure. Help me get Deb loose and we'll go see him, okay?' She nodded. Steadying herself, she rose to her feet.
Timmy shined the flashlight back to Deb. This time she met his gaze. Her lower lip trembled.
'Please,' Timmy said. 'I need to help my friend. Let me help you first, okay?' Her nod was barely perceptible, but she consented in silence. Timmy began cutting her bonds.
'Hurry,' Karen urged.
'I'm going as fast as I can. This knife wouldn't cut a wet monkey.' Karen frowned at the odd statement. Timmy grinned, and tried to squelch the sudden sadness that overcame him. It had been a longtime private joke between him, Barry, and Doug. Doug had first uttered it one night when they were camping out, and the phrase had never failed to make all three of them laugh.
