Urban Gothic (16 page)

Javier stared at her, unblinking. “Do you really believe that, Kerri?”

Her expression crumpled. “No.”

“I don’t think Noigel is smart enough to think that way,” Brett said. “From what I saw, he might be mentally retarded.”

“You think so?” Heather’s tone was sarcastic. “I’d say he’s more than retarded. I’d say that he’s batshit fucking crazy. Retarded people don’t go around bashing people’s heads in.”

Kerri choked back a sob as images of Tyler’s death flashed through her mind again.

“Shut up, Heather,” Brett whispered. “That’s not helping.”

“I agree,” Javier said. “Now, come on.”

Without another word, he led them forward again. Heather reached for his hand, but he brushed her away. Pouting, she followed. Brett shuffled along behind them with his head drooping low. Occasionally, he veered off course and bumped into the walls. After a few times of this, Kerri walked beside him, and let Brett lean on her. They crept back through the maze of hallways and rooms, finally emerging into the foyer again. The space was now lit by a single dirty bulb hanging from the ceiling. Kerri tried to remember if the lightbulb had been there when they came in. She didn’t recall. Everything had happened so quickly.

She watched as Javier tried opening the front door, but it still refused to budge. Grunting, he tried harder, exerting himself hard enough that his muscles and sinew hardened like granite, and his veins stood out as if they were about to burst from his flesh. Kerri moved to help him, but before she could, Javier went slack again. Back to the door, he slid down into a crouch, panting for breath.

“It’s no use,” he mumbled. “I can’t get it open. I could kick the fucking thing down, maybe, but not without them hearing us.”

“Maybe there’s somebody on the other side,” Heather said. “Maybe somebody out there will hear us and go for help.”

“Who?” Javier lifted his shirttail and used it to wipe beads of sweat from his forehead. “The guys who chased us in here? A fat lot of good that will do us.”

“Better them than the freaks in here.” Heather’s voice got louder. “At least the guys outside weren’t killing us!”

Javier stood up suddenly and clamped a hand over her mouth.

“Quiet,” he warned. “What the hell is wrong with you? Get your shit together, babe. Do you want them to find us?”

Heather’s eyes were wide. She blinked twice. Javier released her and removed his hand from her mouth. They all stood quietly for a moment, listening for sounds of pursuit or discovery, but the house was silent as a graveyard.

“I’m sorry,” Heather apologized.

“It’s okay,” Javier said. “We’re all on edge. But we need to focus. We need to stop wasting time.”

“Well,” Kerri said, “let’s go then.”

“Hang on,” Javier said. “First, I want everyone to check their phones. We’re closer to the outside now. I’m wondering if we might be able to get a signal.”

They checked their remaining cell phones, but none of them had service.

“Shit. I’d love to know how they’re blocking it.” Javier turned to Brett. “You think you remember how to get back to this kitchen you were in?”

Brett nodded, licking his lips. Kerri noticed that even his tongue had turned paler.

“I can find it,” he muttered. “Are we really going down into the basement, though?”

“Yeah,” Javier confirmed. “We are. I don’t like it any more than the rest of you. But unless we find another way out of here, I don’t see that we have much choice.”

Brett slumped his good arm over Javier’s shoulder and leaned on him for support. Then he took the lead, guiding them through an increasingly bewildering labyrinth of twisting passageways and doors. Kerri and Heather walked behind the boys. Kerri kept glancing over her shoulder, making sure that they weren’t being followed. She also tried to keep track of each turn they made, but the task was impossible. All of the rooms looked the same—empty and desolate. There were doors that led into other hallways, doors that led into more barren rooms, and doors that led into nothing but brick walls. She noticed that there wasn’t a single window anywhere in the building. The lights hummed overhead. The sound was simultaneously comforting and disturbing.

“You sure you know where you’re going?” Javier asked Brett.

Brett nodded, unable to speak. He appeared even more exhausted than before. He led them through a few more rooms and passages, and then through a door that opened into the kitchen. The makeshift lights glowed overhead. “I need to rest for a minute,” Brett said. “There’s no lock on the door, so one of us should stand guard.”

Javier leaned Brett against the wall and eased him down to the floor in a kneeling position. Then he began looking around. “Let’s find something to prop against the door. Slow them down if they try to get in.”

“Forget it,” Brett gasped, tottering back and forth on his knees. “I looked already, when I was here before. There’s nothing.”

Kerri glanced down at the floor and realized that she was standing in a large swath of fresh blood. The stains led to a closed door at the rear of the room. It looked like somebody had dipped a mop in a bucket of blood and dragged it across the floorboards. Alarmed, she choked in disgust and stepped aside. Her shoes left red footprints.

“That’s …” Brett’s throat worked soundlessly. “They brought Steph and Tyler through here. Noigel and the other one.”

Kerri’s hand fluttered to her mouth. She closed her eyes and tried to remain strong.

“The other one,” Javier said. “You said he was wearing a woman’s skin over his body?”

“Yeah. I get sick just thinking about it.”

“Did you get his name?”

“No. Although Batshit-Crazy Man would suit him well.”

Javier picked up a chunk of white plaster and drew a small line on his forearm. Then he drew another one beside it. He followed this with a shorter line.

Heather leaned closer to him. “What are you doing?”

“You never saw
Die Hard
?”

“No.”

“I’m keeping track of how many are left—that we know of. This mark is for Noigel. This mark is for his cross-dressing friend.”

“What’s the half mark for?”

“The one that got its tongue bitten by Kerri. We don’t know if it’s alive or dead.”

Brett sagged onto his rump and looked up at the lights. “I wish I knew how they were turning those on and off. I tried the light switches before, but none of them worked. They must be using a central breaker or something.”

Kerri spotted the refrigerator and walked toward it. She breathed through her mouth. The air reeked of mildew and filth. Dust floated in the beams of light, swirling like tiny snowflakes. More of the sickly black mold sprawled across the walls. There was a bloody handprint on the appliance’s door. It appeared old—the blood was more like dirt than liquid. She glanced behind the unit and saw that the electrical cord had been cut off at some point. The frayed wires dangled like veins from a severed human limb.

“Somebody help me out here,” she said. “We’ll slide this fridge in front of the door.”

“Forget it,” Brett replied. “I tried doing that before. It’s heavy as hell and it makes too much noise. And besides, you shouldn’t disturb a burial ground.”

“A what?”

“A burial ground,” he repeated. “The fridge is full of rat bones.”

Kerri scampered backwards, sputtering in disgust. “Jesus Christ …”

Brett, Heather, and Javier laughed softly. After a moment, she joined them. It felt like a release. All the negative emotions drained out of her.

“Come on,” Javier said, helping Brett to his feet again. “Let’s check out the basement and find the exit.”

Javier led them to the cellar door as if approaching a hornet’s nest. The floorboards creaked. When he opened the door, they all felt a faint breeze on their faces. The odor was terrible and indefinable, but the breeze felt luxurious. Kerri didn’t know if it was that or their earlier bout of laughter or just the new surge of adrenaline coursing through her body, but she suddenly felt more positive—upbeat. For the first time since they’d entered the home, she dared to hope. She held on to that emotion, drawing strength from it as they stood at the top of the basement stairs and prepared to descend.

***

Javier stared down into the darkness for a moment. With the kitchen lights behind him, his night vision was messed up. The basement wasn’t just dark, like the rest of the house. It was pitch-black. He doubted that even their cell phones would pierce the darkness. He sniffed the air, trying to identify the repulsive stench wafting up on the slight breeze. It wasn’t rot or putrefaction or sewage, but it was similar. Maybe a combination of all three? Finally, he gestured with his left hand and started down the stairs, urging silence with a backward glance.

As if in mockery of him, they heard distant, thudding footsteps—Noigel’s unmistakable tread. At first, Javier thought the giant must be below them, climbing up the stairs toward them, but then he realized that the footfalls were actually coming from the corridor on the other side of the kitchen door.

“Hurry,” he whispered, taking the stairs faster.

He heard Kerri shut the door behind them, and the stairwell turned even blacker. Brett or Heather—he couldn’t tell which—stumbled behind him. Javier listened, his head cocked slightly to the side. He didn’t hear the footsteps anymore, but wasn’t sure if that was because the door was shut or because Noigel had stopped. Gripping the belt with one hand and trailing his other hand along the wall, Javier continued down the darkened staircase, moving as carefully as possible without sacrificing his speed. The others stumbled along behind him. He held his breath, certain that Noigel would hear them and come charging along in pursuit. The stairs were old and narrow and half of them sagged under his footsteps as if they were ready to collapse. Still, he continued without hesitation. It was only when they’d finished their descent that Javier allowed himself to breathe.

“Everybody huddle together,” he whispered, so low that he was unsure whether they’d heard him until he felt their hands reaching out to brush against him.

“Are we all here?” Kerri asked.

“I am,” Heather said. “Brett?”

“Yeah, I’m here.”

Javier frowned. There was something in Brett’s voice—pain, certainly, but something else beneath it. “You holding up okay?”

“No,” Brett sighed. “My hand is starting to hurt like a bitch. I mean, worse than it was—and that’s a lot.”

“Just hang in there a little bit longer.”

“I don’t hear him up there,” Kerri said. “Do you guys think he stopped?”

“Maybe,” Javier admitted. “Who knows what the fuck the crazy bastard is doing? Maybe he’s searching somewhere other than the kitchen. Let’s put some distance between us and him, before he comes back.”

Javier reached into his pocket for his cell phone and then remembered that he’d lost it in the pit. He asked Brett for his instead. Brett passed it up the line, groping in the darkness. Javier flipped it open and used the weak light to look around. His spirits soared when he spotted a dusty, cobweb-covered, antique oil lamp hanging from a rusty nail in one of the cellar’s wooden support beams. His enthusiasm quickly dissipated when he realized there was neither a wick nor oil to be found anywhere in the basement. Indeed, the sublevel was as empty as the rooms above, save for a pile of rotting burlap sacks, a heap of broken masonry, a few glass bottles, and some moldering cardboard boxes. The cell phone’s light did little to penetrate the shadowed corners, but he was certain they’d be empty, as well. He wondered how the spiders and other insects lived in such a desolate place. It was just proof that life could exist anywhere, even in a location as dismal as this.

“How the hell are we supposed to find our way around down here?” Heather’s voice had an edge of despair. “I can’t see shit. It’s worse than upstairs.”

Javier shrugged, knowing full well that she couldn’t see the gesture. “Let’s just find a way out, okay? Before anything else can happen.”

Kerri made an agreeable grunt and Brett stayed quiet.

“I know it’s dark, but maybe we’d better use one phone. That way we can save the batteries in the others, just in case.”

They murmured their displeasure, but did as he said.

Javier took Heather’s hand and settled it on the back of his jeans. “Hold on to me. Don’t let go for any reason. We don’t want to get separated down here.”

She hooked one finger through a belt loop, and then, while Javier held up the light to guide them, Heather found Kerri’s hand and placed it on her pants. Then Kerri did the same with Brett. His wounded hand hung limp by his side. A moment later they were moving again. Javier led them through the darkness, taking small, measured steps with only the cell phone’s dim glow to guide him. Brett’s belt dangled from his hand, the buckle smacking silently against his leg with each step. He felt Heather tug at his pants as they walked slowly forward, and it brought to mind another time she’d done that. A year before, the six of them had driven out to York County for a night so that they could attend a Halloween haunted attraction in LeHorn’s Hollow. Everyone at school had been talking about it since the ghost walk had first been announced, and they’d arrived with eager anticipation. They’d been standing in line waiting to buy tickets and Heather had hooked her index finger through his belt loop and pulled him to her suddenly, kissing him deep and earnestly. The suddenness had surprised and excited him. Sadly, their evening had been cut short when some kind of riot ensued inside the ghost walk. A bunch of people died. The police and the firemen arrived, and it was shut down. They’d driven back to East Petersburg, frustrated and bored. But not Javier. On the way home, he’d sat in the backseat of Tyler’s brother’s car, smiling, one arm around Heather, pulling her close, the kiss still lingering like an echo in his mind. It was a memory that Javier returned to often—and fondly. He held on to it now, as well, and it was enough to keep him going. As they crept forward, she came close enough a few times that he felt her breath on the back of his neck. It was warm in contrast to the unseen breeze that blew through the dark space. Javier just wished he could find the source of that breeze, because he was willing to bet he’d also find their escape route.