My legs have already decided on this course of action. I’m slipping down the stairs, trying to hear Amber over the screeching AC/DC.
The music makes it difficult to think.
I creep down the stairs, slowly exposing myself to the light down there. The glare is painful—as bad as the music, really—but I think I can tolerate it long enough to find her.
I’m almost to the bottom of the stairs and I’m clinging to the left wall. That’s where the deepest shadows are. I think I understand why the light is so horrible. My skin is working hard to try to make me blend into the shadows. That’s not something I can control. It’s as automatic as blinking, which I don’t seem to do as much anymore. I would say that it’s as automatic as my heart beating, but I don’t think my heart still beats during daylight.
Anyway, my skin is good at disguising me, but direct light is way too much work. When one of my talons strays into the light, my arm snatches it back. It needs time to recover.
Complete darkness would be the best way to recover. On the other side of the bannister, there’s a hall closet. The door is ajar. It would be an ideal refuge.
Bracing myself for the light, I spring up, leap over the banister, land softy on the floor and then slip into the closet.
Relief floods through me. The coats muffle the sound and the door blocks out the light. After a few minutes in this solitude, I’ll be ready for anything. I slip to the very back and huddle down with the overshoes and a stray set of gloves that must have fallen from the shelf. It smells like Mr. Engel in here—like a towel, fresh from the dryer.
I won’t, of course, but I could stay here forever.
In the living room, the Mountain has finished with AC/DC for the moment and I hear a commercial for some car dealership. Are they the only advertisers? It seems like the only business I hear ads for.
The radio clicks off and I can’t believe my luck.
My talons don’t waste a single second.
They tap on the floor, echo into the basement, find the breaker and switch it off. The light under the bottom of the door goes out. I hear Amber take in a sharp breath—she’s right outside the closet door—and then I hear something that almost sounds like rain.
A grain of rice bounces under the door and lands on the toe of a boot.
My talon shoots out and snatches it up.
Her heart is beating fast and she’s practically gulping down air. She’s not trying to run. I can sense her, on the other side of the door and a few feet down the hall.
All I have to do is open the door wide enough and she will see my eyes. That’s all it will take.
I shift silently in the dark. A ripple travels through my skin so it won’t rub against the coats and make them move. A talon puts a tiny amount of pressure on the door, making it swing open slower than a minute hand.
Amber is still standing there. I don’t know what she’s doing, but it won’t matter soon.
If I were her, I would already be running. Three paces between each breath would keep my stamina as I fled out into the night, but Amber is just standing there.
Even in the dark, I can see the grains of rice. The rice hitting the floor was what I thought sounded like rain. She must have spilled the dry rice when the lights went out and now she’s frozen in fear.
It won’t matter soon.
I push the door open a little wider so I can pick up the rice. My talons need to do that before my eyes will be free to mesmerize Amber.
“Hey,” she says.
Even with her heart racing and her breath coming in quick gasps, she sounds calm. I guess I misjudged her adrenaline for fear.
The flashlight clicks on and I see the beam coming towards me.
In that last moment, I lock eyes with her.
I sense her mind and I hear my own words echoing in there.
They’re from the letter.
“If I don’t knock on the door, like a friendly neighbor, then please understand that I’m here to do you harm.”
Another tidbit floats by just before the light hits me.
“You’ll know I’m close if you hear tapping. Scatter seeds to slow me down.”
I must have given her more advice than that. I see that the flashlight is taped to a long wooden stick. She’s gripping it in both hands.
Amber drives it forward into my right eye.
I remember the whole letter.
I thought she would be unable to resist my stare. I’m so strong now from the two police officers. Amber jerks her stake back with a grunt and shoves it into my other eye.
I can still see the yellow waves. They’re a part of everything that moves or vibrates. The echoes of her heartbeat light up the hallway and the rice on the floor. They show me everything even as the world begins to melt.
Then, with a long exhale, the world turns to mist and disappears.
(Letter)
Dear Amber,
You don’t know me well, but I shared a moment with Mr. Engel. I hope you’ll remember that as you read what I have to say. Give me the benefit of the doubt even though what I’m writing is going to sound crazy.
I’m going to try to come to you tomorrow, after dark. I can’t come until the sun goes down. I’m going to ask for your help. The infection that killed your great uncle is attacking me. It’s turning me into a monster, and I can’t live this way. You saw the talons growing from
