The flashlight beam was widespread, and she could see how deep the dirt opening went on for. There were thick wooden support rods pressed from floor to ceiling, as if they kept the entire nest from collapsing. Had Emma built this all herself? It must have taken a long time to be sneaking down here at night, digging under the condo like this.
It went on for as far as Taylor could see, and the walls were only about two yards apart here, opening up beyond. Brent had to duck to walk, but Taylor managed with only occasionally bumping her head on the ceiling.
Darrel stopped and held a hand up, pointing to his ear. He was listening. Taylor tried to hear something, anything, but it was silent. Then she finally did hear it. It was a faint rustling at first, and she eventually thought it was breathing.
“Something’s alive down here,” she said into her uncle’s ear. He nodded and aimed his rifle forward, a stalking hunter.
Taylor considered turning off the flashlight so they could get the edge on it, but couldn’t bring herself to be there in the dark. It was already like a nightmare, and she knew what was at the end of the tunnel as surely as she knew she loved her family. It was waiting for her.
The tunnel took a turn up ahead, but before it softly curved to the left, Taylor twisted to the side to catch movement.
“Help me,” a voice said, so tiny it might have been coming from a mouse.
Taylor didn’t see the girl at first. She was deep in the corner of the dug-out room, her face and clothing covered in black dirt. The whites of her eyes were so bright in the flashlight beam, and Taylor ran over to her. She was trembling hard, but Taylor pulled her close, smelling the mud on her hair.
Taylor had so many questions, but only one mattered at that second. “Are you alone?”
The girl shook her head side to side and was crying fat tears now, forming deep clean lines in the mud.
“Where is it?” Taylor asked, and the girl lifted a hand, pointing around the bend.
Taylor nodded to it, and Darrel went toward it, Taylor running to his side. “Brent, stay with her.”
He didn’t have to be told twice, and the girl hid behind Taylor’s boyfriend as he stood there with his gun up, wide eyes full of fear.
Taylor took the lead, using her light so Darrel could see what they were up against. He was an experienced marksman with that rifle, and if anyone could make a kill shot, it was him.
She’d expected a shadow, a mystical form or misty substance, but what she saw shook her to her core. She screamed and dropped the flashlight as the pale white creature crawled toward her, teeth gnashing fervently.
_______________
Paul snapped into control of his own mind as soon as the bullet entered his thigh. He clutched the wound as Stevie jumped at him.
“Dad! Dad, are you okay?” he was shouting as Paul fell to the ground in front of the house’s steps, his raised hand smothered in blood.
The transition from being an unwilling witness to being back in control was jarring, but it didn’t last long.
“Stevie, you have to go to your mom now. Run from me! Now!” Paul shrieked as the black mist enveloped him again. The gunshot had shocked the Anbieter, but it was quick to recover. Stevie was staring at him, confused at his dad’s words, when Terri appeared moments after Tom had fired, picking her son up. Instead of heading into the house, she was running down the street. Beth stood there with her mouth wide open, looking locked in a silent scream.
“Paul, put your hands up!” Tom yelled, but Paul’s control vanished as the creature took over once again. He stood up, not worrying about the pain in his thigh. A wound like that meant nothing to the entity. That was the vessel’s problem. It would kill everyone around them and get Paul to safety so he could heal.
Not-Paul ignored the detective pointing a gun at him, and he shoved the woman at the stairs, causing her to fly backwards, hitting her head on the house’s stucco siding. She crumpled to the ground, and he staggered forward, chasing after his wife. He heard another gunshot, this one going wide. The creature wondered if the man had missed on purpose. A warning shot, perhaps. It laughed with Paul’s vocal cords, and mist shot out from Paul’s hand toward the gun-wielding threat.
Sharp black claws tore at the man’s face, and his hands came up to protect himself. Paul took the opportunity to run away. He heard the gun clatter to the sidewalk and knew he’d gotten the necessary opening. His wife was ahead with Stevie, and already Paul could feel his dread and terror merging with the monster’s blood lust, forming one mind. He fought it every step of the way, his nose bleeding profusely now. It drenched the front of his shirt as Not-Paul stormed down the sidewalk, black ichor evaporating off his skin as he moved toward Terri.
He watched as she ran, carrying Stevie. The boy was too heavy for her to move fast, and she tripped, tumbling onto a yard three houses over. Paul tried to regain control of his body, resisting against the ancient entity, but it was no use. He quickly reached his wife and saw the horror in her eyes. The sight broke the part of Paul that was still human. Stevie was screaming, a shrill high-pitched sound that woke the neighborhood.
Porch lights were turning on, but the Anbieter didn’t care. It would be gone with Paul by dawn. Paul grasped his son’s leg with his right hand and tore him from Terri’s weak grip. She kicked at him, but her efforts were fruitless. Finally,
