13 Tales To Give You Night Terrors (18 page)

“
Glad you’re happy. Hopefully I can
swing by after work.”

“
I can’t wait to see you. I’ve got
everything to make us some Post Nap Funks.”

“
Don’t even. That drink’s cursed,”
Parker said.

“
How’s a drink cursed?” Nolan was
surprised Parker had even heard of Amicus’ drink; he’d been hoping
to impress him.

“
I don’t know. Just heard it’s
cursed. Like whoever created it was born under some bad mojo or
something.”

“
Just makes me want to drink that
much harder,” Nolan said. He took another sip and pulled open the
drawer in the coffee table.

“
Fine, do whatever you
want.”

“
Thanks, Dad,” Nolan shot back. He
found the drawer full of trinkets. Something shined in the light.
He pushed aside playing cards and a fire investigator’s report and
found dog tags with what he hoped was only rust on them. He quickly
shut the drawer.

“
Can we address the elephant in the
room?” Parker asked.

“
Uh, sure, what?” Nolan asked. He
felt clammy and he couldn’t imagine what his down-low boyfriend had
to tell him.

“
I don’t really like the idea of
you being all alone with that fugitive on the loose.”

“
What fugitive?” Nolan
asked.

“
The serial killer. He escaped from
the state prison. Don’t you ever watch the news?”

“
I like that closet case
weatherman. He’s cute—not as cute as you are. Should I worry about
a convict on the run while I’m out here on the lake?”

“
I guess not,” Parker said, though
his voice didn’t sound convincing. “The prison’s only an hour
away.”

“
And some maniac on the loose is
going to run for days, not hunker down by a populated tourist trap
of a lake and slaughter a sexy house-sitting teen—if I do say so
myself.”

“
That’s it, Nolan. The housesitting
part. The papers used to call him the Housesitter.”

“
Coincidence.” A wolf howled
somewhere across the lake and Nolan pictured the 1911 axman
covering all the mirrors in the house. “Maybe you could get off
work early though?”

“
I’ll try but I doubt it. Where are
you on the lake?”

“
Thirteen Serling Drive. I expect
to see you as soon as possible, mister.”

“
That would be nice. Hey, I think
that’s around where the Housesitter killed one of his
victims.”

“
All the more reason for you to get
your cute butt over here,” Nolan said. He could practically see
Parker’s smile plastered across his adorable face. He was so worth
disappointing his entire family and risking eternal damnation
for.

“
Don’t joke about that! He killed,
like, twenty people.”

“
You’re not helping—”

“
Sorry. I’m probably being weird.
His MO doesn’t even fit. From what I read, he’d sneak inside
someone’s house and find a room to wait for them in. Like, he’d sit
in your bedroom or your bathroom for hours if that’s what it took,
perfectly still, perfectly dark, perfectly crazy. And then you’d go
about your business or whatever and walk into your bedroom, flip on
the lights, and he’d be there waiting with his knife ready to grab
you and gut you.”

Nolan heard a wicked, animalistic screaming
from outside. Shivers bristled down his spine, the hairs standing
on end all over his forearms.

It sounded like a cat dying.

Not dying. Being murdered.

Had Macabre snuck out when Amicus left? Had
the cat stumbled across a bobcat or fishercat?

“
I gotta go! Come over here as soon
as you can! Bye.”

Nolan set the phone on the coffee table and
raced toward the kitchen as the screeching sounded
again.

“
Macabre?” Nolan asked. “Please
don’t be murdered outside.”

He grimaced and opened the drawers nearest the
front door looking for a flashlight or something to scare off wild
animals. One drawer held silverware, the other contained just one
item—a smelly old leather-bound book written in an ancient
language.

Nolan tried the hallway closet and found two
items hanging from the wooden beam. A light blue T-shirt
with
CAMP FRESH AIR
emblazoned on it and a ratty looking
I Heart NY
shirt. Nolan inhaled stale beer and
piss and almost slammed the door shut, but spotted a hefty
flashlight on the shelf above the T-shirts.

Maybe over the screaming’s over.
Maybe I don’t need to check outside.

Nolan held his breath and counted to ten.
Nothing. Silence. Bliss.

He exhaled.

His mother would have told him to call the
police like some paranoid creep. His father would tell him animals
die all the time and it wasn’t his fault. His brothers and sisters
would call him a sissy for ignoring the cries.

The howling outside tore through the house.
Nolan steeled himself and unlocked the front door. He turned the
flashlight on as he stepped outside. All he could see was the woods
illuminated from the kitchen window and the oval beam of light
directed from his hand.

“
Macabre? You out here? You
hurt?”

No more screeching. Nolan looked left, looked
right. Where had the awful sound come from?

A branch snapped off to the left. He shined
the light in that direction, but all was still.

Great, a whole week of this
crap.

“
Macabre? You there?”

Nolan left the safety of the front door and
headed carefully through the trees.

“
Here kitty, kitty, kitty, kitty.
Can’t wait for you to meet Parker. We’re going to have crazy fun
naked time while you’re being aloof and ignoring us. Here kitty,
kitty, kitty, kitty.”

He crushed leaves and grass as he walked along
the edge of the lake through the sprinkling of apple and birch
trees. This wasn’t even worth five hundred bucks.

No, it really is. Just get your
act together.

The light flashed across something incredibly
bright. It blinded Nolan and he slowly turned the beam back to
it.

A funhouse mirror leaned against a tree. It
reflected him in a hundred obscure versions as it was cracked like
a spider web.

That was enough for Nolan. He turned around
and hurried back to the lake house. When he reached the front door,
he turned the doorknob, but the door wouldn’t open.

His blood ran ice cold. How could he be locked
out? He tried the door again and again it wouldn’t budge. He must
not have flicked the lock all the way. It had to have spun back
into place when he closed it behind him.

He could call—his phone was inside.

He could drive—his car keys were
inside.

He could—he was screwed.

Parker was coming over at some point. He could
wait it out and hope Macabre wasn’t murdered outside the house. At
least it wasn’t raining or snowing. All he had to do was sit
outside a beautiful home by the water and wait for his awesome
boyfriend to show up like a knight in shining armor. He could go
back to Parker’s, log onto his email and get Amicus’ number. There
was probably a key hidden under some rock or something he could
use.

Nolan checked under the welcome mat but found
only a strange stain.

He rubbed at the small cross dangling around
his neck. Another branch broke, this time to the right. He turned
the flashlight toward it, but only saw still trees.

“
Macabre? You out there,
buddy?”

The cat was probably inside asleep. Just how
he’d prefer to be.

Come on, Parker. Come
on.

A light flickered inside the lake
house.

Bad bulb or mischievous cat?

Where would a strange collector hide a key?
Had to be someplace strange.

He surveyed the house and ran his fingers
along every nook and cranny he could reach. He picked over rocks to
make sure they weren’t hollow hiding spots. He circled around the
house painstakingly slowly until he came to the side room by the
front door. He shined the light inside and found a room empty
except for one bookshelf full of trinkets. Next to it was a framed
poster for a Scottish boxing match. Nolan held the flashlight under
his armpit and tried the window. Of course it didn’t open. That
would be too convenient.

An owl hooted.

More snapping twigs.

“
Macabre?”

Only stillness.

There couldn’t be a fugitive fresh out of
prison with blood on his mind out there. Just couldn’t be. So what
if he’d killed someone in the very same neighborhood before being
sent away. So what if he might return to wherever he felt
comfortable while on the run. So what if he could be out there in
the woods with him at that very moment.

Nolan made it to the back of the house and
gazed out at the lake. The still black waters called out to him but
he resisted temptation.

Focus. Find a way inside. Earn
your five hundred bucks.

He slid open the cabana door. A hefty stack of
firewood and storage boxes filled with God only knew. Fliers lined
one wall. Posters of a missing blonde woman with an English
address.

A bottle of rum rested on one of the boxes.
Nolan certainly wouldn’t run out of ingredients for Post Nap Funks
this week.

He had to remind himself that this would pass.
He’d eventually get back in the house and start the vacation he
deserved. He could have Parker’s friends over and his brothers and
sisters if he was truly lonely. Not at the same time, of course.
Maybe even his mother and father could come over for dinner one
night. Only one night. Yeah, the week would be cool. Assuming he
ever got back inside the house.

He could throw a rock through a window. There
were so many windows to choose from.

And Amicus Sundown would return and refuse to
pay him the five hundred bucks. He’d have every right to make Nolan
pay for the damages. Sitting around outside for an hour or two
until Parker showed up had to be worth the cash.

He sat on a lawn chair and lazily flashed the
light across the water. He was comfortable, he’d have company soon,
nothing to worry about.

Tiny bubbles burst on the lake
surface.

“
Uhhhhh,” Nolan grimaced. “If
anyone’s out there, my boyfriend’s a jock. Only JV, but he’s got
these biceps that, if you’re not worshipping, you should be afraid
of. Just saying.”

The bubbles stopped bursting. No one answered.
Good.

He’d be inside watching TV snuggled up with
Parker soon. All Nolan had to do was relax and be
patient.

Maybe there was a basement he could sneak
into. He left the serene dock and stalked around the other side of
the house. Of course there was nothing but grass meeting cement.
Probably impossible for a basement so close to the water. He
returned to the front door. Had the Housesitter used the front door
when he snuck inside and butchered his victims?

You go to sleep in your bed. Your
kids are safe and sound tucked into theirs. Next thing you know
he’s standing over you, ax raised high. He brings it down. What are
your last thoughts? You know the kids are next. The house itself
practically drips with blood.

Nolan shuddered. Good thing he’d never have
kids. Or he’d turn into some weird hippy and decide at fifty he
should bring new life into the world. Would he still be with
Parker? God, he hoped so.

What would his life look like then? His
parents gone, probably. His brothers and sisters dealing with him
being gay. Would they like Parker? Would they accept him? Would it
be some other guy they’d have to let into the family? Or would the
wall he’d erected around his personal life grow sturdier and keep
all others out?

Would Parker go to church with them? Would he
let himself be loved?

Worrying about it all gave him palpitations.
He needed to chill.

He felt something scurrying along his neck. He
reached out to brush it off but didn’t find anything.

More wailing in the woods.

No protection.

He shined the flashlight at the
trees.

Silent sentinels.

More animal screams.

How soon until he was screaming?

Nolan left the supposed safety of the front
door and traipsed through the thicket, flashlight wildly swishing
back and forth.

“
Macabre, buddy? You out there?
Kitty, kitty?”

The random area between trees slowly grew to
resemble a pathway. Nolan stepped onto it as the lake vanished off
to his side and the woods swallowed his progression.

Something thumped behind him. He spun and
shined the flashlight along the ground. Nothing out of the
ordinary. Another thump off to his side. He turned again,
completely disoriented from the house and the lake. He continued
on, unsure if he was making it better or worse.