"Where's the book?" he asked.
Kenny frowned. He did not recall having borrowed a book from this man. In truth, he had not had any conversation of real substance with his visitor for many years.
"Come again?"
Again with that smile. "Foster Marlin stole a book from me. Word has it that he may have come to see you before he died. I want to know if he gave you anything, or told you anything about the whereabouts of my book."
"Foster?" Kenny asked stupidly. "What the hell's he got to do with some book?"
The guest glared at him, eyebrows raised, looking sinister. Kenny shifted uncomfortably in his chair and put the beer down on the tray table, hoping to look more sincere about things himself.
"He stole it from me. He came to see you before he . . . died."
For one seemingly eternal moment, Kenny was stumped. He stared at his guest, shaking his head. Then a flicker of memory raced through his mind like a ghost in a darkened hallway. His eyes went wide.
"Wait," he said, backing up into his chair.
"Yes?" the man asked, a grin on his face. He leaned forward, almost coming off the couch. "We've known each other a long time, Kenny. If you have something to say, by all means, spit it out."
Kenny shook his head. "Look, I don't know about him stealing anything. Don't you think I would have said something? But he said he'd found this book, he wanted to show me. Said he was going to make a lot of money with what was written inside it. Secrets, he said. Secrets about this town. The people here. I didn't want anything to do with it."
"That was wise," his visitor told him.
"Yeah," Kenny replied, nervous but uncertain as to the cause of his anxiety. It was not as though he had done anything wrong.
"You knew Foster. Where would he have hidden such a thing if he wanted to hide it?"
Kenny shrugged. "I don't know. Could have hidden it anywhere, I guess. Thing about Foster, though, he wasn't all that inventive. Not dumb, mind you, but he usually figured his first idea was his best one. If he wanted to hide something, it shouldn't be difficult to find. Hide in plain sight, that's what he would have done."
His guest glanced slowly around the room, eyes narrowed. "You have an awful lot of books here, Kenny. Are you certain that while he was here with you, he did not hide anything in your house, getting you in trouble?"
"Trouble?" Kenny frowned angrily. "Look, like you said, we've known each other a long time. You know if I had this thing I'd give it to you."
"Maybe you don't know you have it."
"It's not here. Trust me. I know my house, and I especially know my books and my videos. Wherever Foster hid the thing, it wasn't here."
"But you don't mind if I have a look around, do you, old friend?"
Kenny bristled. He picked up his beer and took a long pull from the bottle. He wiped his hand across his mouth and glared at the visitor, who suddenly seemed more like an intruder.
"You know, I do mind," Kenny told him bluntly. "I don't have the damn thing, and I think you should go now."
The visitor shook his head. "I'm sorry to hear that."
He stood up. Even as he did so, he began to change. Thick hair or fur sprouted right up through his skin, tearing it away as though it were made of tissue paper. His face bulged as though he were holding his breath, and then it stretched with a sound like ice cracking, and pushed out to become a snout. The horrifying, slavering beast began to snarl and snap its jaws as it dropped to all fours.
Kenny stared at the impossible. The man had changed, bones and flesh altering. Now only a beast remained, an ancient thing with wisdom in its eyes.
Wisdom, and hunger.
The beer bottle dropped from his hand and smashed to the floor. Kenny screamed. As his voice cracked, the front door slammed open hard and three more of the snarling, drooling monsters bounded in. Slowly, they advanced on him.
"Find it," the first one barked at the others.
He shuddered at the sound of that inhuman-yet-familiar voice. With all the energy left in the old man's muscles, he scuttled away from the monsters who had invaded his life. They began to tear through his books and tapes, and Kenny whimpered in real pain as they destroyed his things.
One of them, a sleek female, moved closer, eyes locked on his. A thick, purple tongue snaked out and slithered along her sharp teeth, and she sniffed the air as though savoring the scent of him.
"No," barked the one who had been his friend. "Leave him to me."
The other creatures moved off, still searching, trashing what little life he had made for himself. The leader studied him closely. Though the female beast lingered nearby, she did not dare approach.
The monster's jaws snapped as he leaped at Kenny. He scrambled backward, felt something hard-edged under his butt, and realized it was the remote control.
The VCR hummed and the static snow on the television became Superman once again. The music blared. The narrator pronounced Superman's heroic deeds with a deep and sonorous voice.
The beast pounced on Kenny's chest. His yellow eyes glared down upon him and drool dripped onto Kenny's cheek. Kenny began to cry, and he felt warmth beneath him now as his bladder gave way.
"I'm going to eat you myself," the monster snarled. "For old times' sake."
CHAPTER 5
The rain stopped overnight and Friday began bright and hot. Though the faded cotton nightshirt she wore was cool against her skin, the heat and humidity made Courtney uncomfortable. She lay in bed, only half-awake, and struggled briefly to return to sleep. Soon enough she surrendered and allowed her eyes to flicker open; she gazed balefully at the alarm clock beside her bed. Only
