Dennis makes an effort to close his mouth, swallows and blinks several times. “I, uhm … it’s just … I’m sorry, Mom. I meant to put it away, but …”
“You need to be more careful,” Mom says earnestly. “You can’t just fall asleep with a gun next to you. If someone made their way in here, they could take it from you.”
“I know, Mom. I’ll … I’ll be more careful.”
She looks at him for a moment, hands at her sides. “What’s up with you? You don’t look well.”
Dennis feels his cheeks burning. Most of the confidence he felt last night has gone. He thought he was doing a brave thing in handling the situation on his own, but it turned into a mess, and now all he can think of is how to keep Mom from finding Dan in the tunnel. But why would she go down there? Maybe if Dennis just waits it out, the problem will—
“Dennis?” Mom insists. “There’s something you’re not telling me.”
Dennis opens his mouth, not sure what will come out. His voice is suddenly calm again. “I’m fine, Mom. I just had a bad dream right now.”
“Oh,” Mom says, eyeing him for another second. “Well, good thing it was just a dream.”
Dennis nods and smiles up at her.
“You hungry?” she asks, picking up the laundry basket. “You must be. I already ate, but I can fix you something.”
Mom goes to the kitchen, and Dennis remembers the van parked in the courtyard. He jumps to his feet and runs after her. He’s just about to grab her and stop her from going into the kitchen, when he sees the boards covering the windows.
He stops and exhales. He forgot about the boards. They put them up so they wouldn’t have to look at the dead people clawing at the windows. Which means the only window the van can be seen from is the one upstairs, in the room Dennis kept a lookout for Dan last night. And Mom rarely goes up there, so he should be safe.
“You want eggs?” she asks him, putting down the basket again and opening the fridge. “We still have some, but we’ll have to eat them before they go bad.”
“Yes, please,” Dennis says, sitting down at the table.
As Mom begins preparing breakfast for him—even though it’s late in the afternoon—Dennis can almost tell himself it’s a normal day. He can almost forget about the van out in the courtyard or Dan in the tunnel. Almost.
To his surprise, though, something other than the fear of Mom finding out has begun to bug him. It feels like guilt. And it’s not from keeping the truth from Mom. It’s the thought of Dan being trapped and alone down there in the tunnel. He is probably starving by now. He must be afraid, too. That’s how Dennis would feel if it was him down there.
Still, Dan came to kill them and take the house. Dennis is certain of that. At least he was certain yesterday. Now, as he sits here in the kitchen, watching Mom start up a pan to make him scrambled eggs, he’s much less certain of Dan’s motives.
Sure, he lied, but when Dennis had confronted him about it, he had seemed honest enough. Then again, he seemed honest when they spoke on the phone, too, but it turned out he was lying.
Either Dan was lying both then and now.
Or else Dan was only lying then but not now.
Either Dan’s intentions are bad and he deserves to be trapped down in the tunnel.
Or Dan told a single lie but is being truthful about everything else.
Which one was it?
If it is the first one, and Dennis lets Dan stay down there to starve to death, he would have stopped Dan’s evil plot to kill them and takeover the house.
If it is the second one, though … then Dennis would be killing a basically innocent person. One who has only told a single lie.
The trouble is, Dennis has no way of finding out which one is true and which one is false. He only has Dan’s words to go on, and his own judgement. He can’t ask Mom or anyone else for advice. The decision is his alone.
Should he just pretend like Dan never existed and wait for him to die? Could he live with that choice? Even if Dan really is a liar and a killer, could Dennis still be the one sentencing him to death?
I didn’t kill him, he killed himself. He shouldn’t have lied to me. If he hadn’t then I would still have trusted him. I would have never—
Dennis notices Mom sniffing the eggs frying on the pan. Then she goes to the fridge, opens it and sniffs inside it.
She looks around the kitchen, then over at Dennis. “You smell something, Dennis?”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know, something … chemical.”
“No, I don’t smell anything,” Dennis says earnestly.
Mom shrugs, then goes back to the stove. “I just keep thinking I can smell something. It’s almost like gasoline.”
That last word makes Dennis tense up.
As soon as Mom said it, Dennis can smell it all too well. The stench of gasoline seems to be hanging thick like a blanket in the air. He probably didn’t notice it before because he’s gotten used to it.
“It’s probably nothing,” Mom mutters, dumping the eggs onto a plate. She brings it to Dennis, hands him a fork and runs her hand through his hair—a rare sign of affection. “We’ll be okay, Dennis,” she says. “I believe the hardest part is over now. As long as we have each other, we’ll be okay.”
Her voice is uncharacteristically soft and warm—it sounds almost like Mom is smiling.
Dennis doesn’t know for sure, though, because he can’t bring himself to look up at her, so he just nods and begins eating the eggs—even though his appetite is suddenly gone.
Mom stays by his side a moment longer. Then he can hear her sniffing once more. “There it is again. I just remembered, the gas can in the
