Dark Corner (38 page)

He ran out of the station and to his patrol car.

He roared down the street, sirens blaring.

Surrounded on two sides by vicious dogs, Deputy Dudu's
only alternative was to run toward the back of the Mason
house.

He had never been a fast runner. Although he had long
legs, he lacked coordination, always had. His clumsiness made
him the butt of jokes in school. Nicknames such as "The
Stickman" and "Dudu the Dodo Bird" had followed him all
the way through to high school graduation.

He heard the taunts in his thoughts as he sprinted along
the side of the house. His hat spun off his head. The alien
dogs were on his butt. They were too close for him to dare
looking behind him.

He rounded the rear corner. A set of storm doors were
ahead. They yawned open, like jaws.

He ran toward the doorway. It was the only place to escape.

A short flight of crumbling stone steps led into a dark
chamber. He leapt across the stairs and landed on the concrete below. Pain jolted through his knees. He stumbled, grimacing.

Above him, the doors closed with a boom. Darkness
filled the stairwell and the room beyond.

A lock snicked into place.

Had someone been hidden outside, waiting for him to
plunge into the cellar so they could trap him?

The dogs had fallen silent. They did not scratch against
the door, either.

It was as if the hounds had purposefully driven him to the
basement. Their work complete, they were leaving him in the
hands of whatever unearthly evil awaited him inside.

Cut it out, he thought. You don't know that.

Nevertheless, fear tightened his throat.

He thought of using his radio to call for help again, but he
was afraid to make any noise. The kid had already heard him
the first time, anyway. It was up to the boy to do the right
thing and get him some assistance. Quickly

The sound of his breathing was loud down there, as if he
were shut inside a coffin.

He gripped the Glock in one hand. With his other hand,
he unclipped his small flashlight from his belt, clicked it on.

He panned the light around. No windows at all. Gray
brick walls, ranked with melted candles. An entertainment
center that housed a television and other electronics was positioned in front of a large, hospital-style bed. The white
sheets covered a large, humanoid shape.

He remembered what the folks had told him earlier about
vampires. The master vampire-or alien, as Dudu preferred
to think of it-was supposed to be in the house, feeding on
blood and building his strength. Dudu would wager that this
was the creature's room. The faint, coppery smell of blood
flavored the dank air.

Was the vampire lying in the bed, asleep?

His eyes had mostly adjusted to the darkness. He wanted
to free his hands, so he balanced the flashlight on the floor.
The funnel of light angled upward and provided decent illumination throughout the center of the room.

He moved to the foot of the bed. He grasped the end of
the sheet. Aiming the gun at whatever lay on the mattress, he
pulled down the blanket.

Three fluffy pillows lay on the bed. There was no one
there. No alien, no vampire.

"Crap," Dudu said. He released a pent-up breath. He'd
been frightened out of his mind for nothing. There was a
threat in his midst, but it was not in here.

You've got to be braver than this, Dudu, if you want to
earn the title of Earth's Defender.

He smiled a little.

Something warm dripped onto his arm. Frowning, he
looked up.

A giant black man hung suspended against the ceiling
like a monstrous spider, lips parted to reveal sharp fangs that
dripped with saliva.

Dudu cried out and swung the gun upward. The man's
long arm swooped like a scythe through the air. He swatted
the revolver out of Dudu's hands. The gun clattered into the
darkness.

Frantic, Dudu drew his nightstick out of its loop on his
belt.

The man unpeeled his body from the ceiling and fluidly
came to stand against the floor. He was huge-a whole head
taller than Dudu, who stood six-four. He was as muscular as
Dudu was skinny. He wore a ragged black shirt, jeans, boots.

The creature's eyes were black holes.

Blinking, Dudu stumbled backward.

For the first time in his life, he was face-to-face with an
extraterrestrial. This wasn't a tabloid photograph. This was
real.

He felt a warm gush running down his leg. He had urinated on himself.

"What ... what world are you from?" Dudu said. He was
amazed that he had the presence of mind to ask such a question. "You're not a vampire. You're an alien!"

Grunting, the creature lunged at Dudu. Dudu yelled a battle cry and swung the nightstick with all his strength. The
creature seized the baton in midair and snatched it out of
Dudu's hands. It snapped the stick in half as though it were a
pencil.

Weaponless except for his bare hands, Dudu began to
throw a punch, but the creature clapped its hands over Dudu's
shoulders and squeezed, pinning his arms to his sides. Dudu
struggled, but it was like being trapped in a steel clamp. He
couldn't get away.

The creature opened its wide, fang-filled mouth.

Last summer, a raccoon had become trapped in Dudu's
chimney, and the stink of the dead animal had contaminated
the entire house. The smell that roiled from this beast's maw
was equally sickening: it was the stench of death.

The creature lifted Dudu in the air and drew him forward.

Dudu finally realized where this monster had really come
from, and it was not Venus, Mars, the Andromeda galaxy, or
any other galactic world.

It was from hell.

David knocked on the door of Franklin's hospital room
before he and Nia went inside.

Sitting at Franklin's bedside, Ruby looked up. She still
wore her nurse's uniform. Her hair was frizzy, and her redrimmed eyes were puffy from crying.

David's heart ached. Ruby had undoubtedly been at her
husband's side all night.

Franklin lay on his back, eyes closed, chest rising and
falling slowly.

"How's he doing?" David said.

"He's been sleeping on and off," Ruby said in a scratchy
voice. "Dr. Green came in earlier to check on him, and he
still can't figure out what's wrong. They think it's a virus of
some kind. They're waiting on blood test results."

"Which might not prove anything," David said. "Of
course, no one told his doctor anything about vampires."

"Dr. Green would never believe a story like that," Ruby
said. "I wouldn't believe it either, if I weren't living it."

"I'm so sorry, Ruby," Nia said. She rubbed the older
woman's shoulder.

David stood near Franklin. Franklin looked so sickly, nothing like the man who had kindly greeted him when he moved
into his father's house. That day seemed like a lifetime ago.

David held Franklin's hand. The man's fingers were cool. David was afraid to wonder how close Franklin was to changing.

Franklin opened his eyes, blinked groggily.

"I don't have much time left, do I?" Franklin said, in a
weak voice.

"Oh, sugar" Ruby kissed Franklin's cheek. "You have all
the time in the world, we're going to make you better, you
hear me?"

Franklin smiled, but it was a sad expression. "Where are
your crutches, David?"

"A lot has happened since we last saw you," David said.

"Tell me, please," Franklin said. He scooted up a few
inches. "I may be in my last hours as a man, but that hasn't
diminished my thirst for a good story."

Jahlil jumped into the patrol car and locked the doors.

Although he had a gun, he wasn't quick enough on the
draw to drop three super-fast, monster mutts. Trying something like that would be crazy.

The vampiric dogs charged across the road. One of them
leapt against the passenger door, angry snout mashed against
the glass. Another pounced onto the hood.

The car rocked under the creatures' assault, metal creaking and buckling. The canines' relentless snarls hurt Jahlil's
ears.

He grabbed the radio handset. "Dad, where are you?
You've gotta get up here now! The dogs have trapped me in
the car!"

Dad's voice came over the airwaves, barely audible over
the dogs' ferocious barks. "On my way, son. Sit tight. You
got the key?"

Jahlil looked at the ignition. The key dangled there. His
terror had blinded him to the obvious.

"If you got the key, drive the hell away from there," Dad
said.

"Got it," Jahlil said.

"Drive away, but don't go too far. I'll be there in a couple
of minutes."

"Okay, Dad"

Shaking, Jahlil twisted the key.

The engine coughed, but did not start.

"Oh, no, no, no!" Jahlil hammered the steering wheel.
"Don't do this to me!"

The third dog bounded onto the roof. The ceiling wailed
under the animal's weight.

The hounds' ceaseless barks mangled his nerves.

He turned the key again.

The engine caught and turned over.

Thank you, God.

He punched the accelerator. The car rocketed forward,
throwing the dogs off balance, and Jahlil realized, too late,
that because the deputy had parked the vehicle on the downward slope of a hill, he had angled the tires toward the curb.
The burst of acceleration launched the car off the shoulder
and directly into a deep, muddy ditch.

Cursing, Jahlil jacked the gear into reverse and pressed
the gas.

The tires spun uselessly, spitting up gravel. He was stuck.

The monster hounds roared and attacked the car.

Chief Jackson had stopped thinking about himself. He focused on one person: his son.

Never in his life had he been so determined to see anyone
safe. He would not lose his son, not to those dogs, not to a
vampire or whatever it was, not to anyone. His son was all he
had left in the world.

The car's engine shrieked as he accelerated up the steep
hill leading to Jubilee.

Anger pressed on his heart. Someone should've burned
down that goddamn house a long time ago. When this was
all over, he just might do the deed himself.

At the crest of the hill, he veered onto Mason Road, tires
screaming.

He saw the deputy's cruiser ahead, lodged in a ditch. The
spinning tires threw a shower of dirt in the air.

Three big dogs swarmed on the vehicle, like wolves eager
to tear apart a lame deer.

Jackson loved animals, but he itched to blast these hounds
to hell.

He skidded to a stop in the middle of the road. He
grabbed his Remington twelve-gauge shotgun.

Hunched atop the car, the canines glowered at him.

He remembered seeing these hellish things when he'd
visited Jubilee earlier. They weren't dogs anymore. He could
blow them away with impunity.

He banged open the door and braced his arms in the
crevice between the door and the car.

A dog jumped off the cruiser and ran at him.

You might be mad, mutt, but you ain't half as mad as I
am.

Jackson always had been a crack shot, having lived
around guns all his life. This time was no exception. He
pulled the trigger and drilled the dog in the chest. The hound
squealed and rolled backward across the asphalt like a tumbleweed blown in the wind.

One down, two to go.

The other two animals were undeterred by their fallen
mate. They leapt off the car and raced across the road after
Jackson.

Jackson squeezed off two more shots, hitting the animals
squarely in the chest. They flopped to the ground, squirming
and howling. Their cries of agony touched him for a moment; they sounded so much like ordinary dogs.

But they aren't, and they were gonna rip my kid to shreds,
he reminded himself.

The creatures stopped moving, and fell silent.

Jackson lowered the smoking shotgun.

"All clear, son!" he shouted.

The cruiser's door flew open. Jahlil staggered out of the
vehicle. He fell to his knees, doubled over, and vomited in
the grass.

Jackson rushed to him.

"It's all right." Jackson patted the boy's back. "Those mutts
are dead"

"I've never been so scared," Jahlil said, gasping. He wiped
his mouth with his shirt. "They scared the shit out of me. Sorry."

"Hell, I'm the one who should be apologizing. I was
something less than a man back there at the station, and I'm
sorry. My fault you got into this. You were being brave"

Jahlil shrugged. "Someone had to help the deputy." He
looked at the mansion. "I don't know where Dudu is. I
haven't heard anything else from him."

Jackson spat on the ground. Fear of what awaited them
inside the house chewed at him, but he pushed it away. He
was not going to be stopped again. "We got to go in there
and get him."

"Hell, no," Jahlil said. "Sorry, Dad, but that's nuts. Dudu
told me that he saw one of those vampires watching him
through the window-he saw the tall guy who's always wearing black. I know vampires are supposed to stay in their
coffins during the day, but he wasn't asleep."