F Wilson - The Dark at the End

“Maybe Tommy came back,” he said as he led the way upstairs.

Both the front and rear doors were locked, which meant nothing if someone had a key. But it had begun to rain about an hour ago and the floors inside the doors showed no trace of moisture.

“You’re sure?” Jack said.

Weezy shrugged. “I’m not saying I heard some one, but I know I heard some thing. Maybe just the building settling.”

“I think it would have pretty much settled by now,” Eddie said.

“It’s got part of a buried town beneath it, so who says it will ever be fully settled?”

Eddie nodded. “Point to you.”

“Just to be sure, I’m going to take a room-to-room look-see. Anyone want to come along?” Jack said.

They both volunteered.

The first floor was easy-only the kitchen, the conference room, the front room, and a few closets. All empty.

A different story upstairs: lots of small rooms-almost like a dorm-and crammed with the furniture that had once filled the basement. Took longer, but same result: empty.

“All clear,” Jack said. “Back to digging?”

Eddie shook his head. “I’ve got to tell you, I thought I was in shape, but I’m bushed.”

Weezy laughed. “I know I’m not in shape, so imagine how I feel.”

Well, the hour was late, and Jack had to admit he was feeling a little sore himself. Working out wasn’t the same as working.

“Okay, let’s knock off and see if we can find a motel and crash for the night.”

“And risk not being able to get back in?” Weezy said.

“We’ll get back in.”

She gestured around them. “Why don’t we stay here? Heat, electricity, running water, lots of rooms, no linens, but we’ve got mattresses.”

“I don’t know,” Eddie said.

“Come on. It’ll be fun. Where else can we stay? The Lonely Pine Motel? These mattresses here are ancient but I bet they’re better than the ones at the Lonely Pine.”

Jack said, “I can’t do anything in the morning without coffee.”

“I’ll run down to Krauszer’s for you. Come on. I’ve got an alarm on my phone. I’ll set it for an early start in the morning.”

Well, why not? They were already trespassers. Might as well become squatters too.

“As long as I get my coffee.”

Weezy’s voice woke him.

“Jack? Eddie?”

It echoed from down the hall and she sounded terrified.

He leaped up from the bare mattress and looked around in the dark. He was fully dressed except for his work boots. He’d rolled his jacket into a makeshift pillow. He felt around for the flashlight and the Glock he’d left on a bedside table.

They’d left a light on in the hall before calling it a night. What had happened to it?

“Guys!” she called again, her voice quavering. “Can you come here?”

“On my way,” Jack said.

He found the flashlight and turned it on, then grabbed his Glock. Couldn’t imagine why he’d need it but he preferred to have it with him rather than on the table.

The piles of upended chairs and bureaus and such scattered around the room cast weird shadows as he hurried toward his open door. He flipped the switch on the wall as he went by but the ceiling light didn’t go on. Odd. It had worked before.

Light flashed in the hall, though, and it turned out to be Eddie with his own flashlight.

“Weezy?” Eddie said.

“I’m in here,” she called from two doors down where she’d chosen to spend the night.

Jack reached the darkened room first. A flick of her wall switch proved that her light didn’t work either, but Jack’s flash beam found her wrapped in her coat and crouched on the bed, holding her unlit flashlight and looking terrified. He entered with Eddie close behind him.

“What’s wrong?”

“Someone was here.”

“Who? How?” Eddie said. “There’s nobody here but us.”

Jack couldn’t argue with that. The windows were barred and they’d barricaded both downstairs doors before hitting the mattresses. Even someone with a key couldn’t get in without making a terrible racket. Eddie tried her wall switch again-as dead as Jack’s.

“Mine’s dead too,” Eddie said. “Seems we’ve lost power.”

Jack held his pistol against his thigh as he flashed his beam around. Like every other room, lots of furniture stacked and bunched together, but no people.

“I’m telling you someone was in the room.” Her voice rose in pitch. “He was standing over the bed and looking down at me.”

“‘He’? ” Jack said. “What’d he look like?”

“Okay, it could have been a she, but it… I don’t know… it felt like a he. I grabbed my flashlight but it’s dead.”

She hit the button and the beam shot across the room.

“It didn’t work before.” She turned it off and back on again. “I swear it didn’t.”

Jack said, “The place is empty except for us. It wasn’t Eddie or me, so that leaves a nightmare.”

“I wasn’t dreaming. Believe me, I know when I’m dreaming. What time is it?”

Eddie pulled out his cell phone and pressed a button. Jack saw his puzzled frown in the glow from its display.

“No service. It worked fine before.”

No service meant no time on the display. Jack hadn’t yet become dependent on his phone for the time. He trained his flash beam on his watch, an old Seiko that refused to die.

“Two thirty-two,” he said, then noticed the second hand wasn’t moving. “Wait. I take that back. My watch has stopped.”

Okay. This was getting weird.

Weezy’s door slammed closed.

Jack jumped just like everyone else. Eddie was closest. He grabbed the knob, twisted, and pulled.

“It won’t budge.” His voice had developed a quaver.

Jack stepped over to help. “Maybe the two of us-”

“Jack? Eddie?” Weezy said. Her voice sounded strange.

Jack turned and saw her awed expression as she trained her flashlight beam across the room.

“Look.”

He followed her beam and stepped back in shock when he saw two chairs on the ceiling.

“What the…?” His mouth had gone dry.

Those chairs had been part of the furniture pile a moment ago. Now they were in the front corner of the room, resting on their sides against the ceiling.

“We’re outta here,” he said.

He and Eddie tried the heavy wooden door together but it wouldn’t budge-wouldn’t even rattle. Seemed like it had fused to the frame.

He crossed the room to the window and looked out. Beyond the wrought-iron bars, the frozen surface of Quaker Lake reflected the streetlights of the sleeping town.

He tried to raise the sash but it wouldn’t budge-either painted shut or fused like the door. He could break the glass but didn’t see the point: They’d never get past the bars crisscrossing the opening.

“Hey, guys,” Eddie said, his ear pressed against the door. “Somebody’s out in the hall.”

Jack joined him at the door. He heard movement outside to their right. Floorboards creaking, joists squealing in distress.

Someone? No, some thing was moving down the hall, something massive, coming their way.

“Stand back,” Jack said, pulling Eddie with him.

The sounds of the walls, floor, and maybe even the ceiling of the hallway struggling to hold together grew louder and closer. Cracks zigzagged along the stucco walls of the room, the door bulged inward as if some monstrous weight were pressing against its far side. It didn’t look like it could hold.

Jack looked around, spotted an open closet door, pointed.

“In there!”

He had no idea if it would protect them from whatever was out there, but he saw no other options.

Their flashlights-all three of them-died just before the room door slammed open.