Ray Garton - The New Neighbor

The beam fell on his mother. She stood on the other side of a broken rectangular window a few feet to the left of the front door. She was naked and her skin was an unhealthy white in the flashlight's beam. Shadow figures moved behind her in the dark.

“Robby!" she shouted. "What have you done , Robby?"

"M-Muh-Mom?"

The mind-numbing scream continued.

"Damn you, Robby, damn you!" she shouted, her arms stiff at her sides, fists clenched, her whole body trembling. Her breasts swayed as she shouted at him.

Robby scrambled to his feet, ignoring his cuts, and began to walk backward as he screamed at her, " What are you doing in there !"

"You'll pay for this, you little bastard, you'll pay !" The hatred in her face was so intense that it sickened Robby.

The horrible sound stopped.

The shadowy figures behind his mom moved away, then even she disappeared into the darkness as Lorelle Dupree's thick, distorted voice said, "That wasn't very nice , Raaww-beeee."

He lowered the flashlight because he didn't want to see it, not again, but even without light, he could see those eyes shimmering in the darkness and he turned and ran across the sidewalk and into the street, dropping the flashlight along the way, but moving ahead blindly, anyway. Getting away from that house and what he knew was inside was more important than the flashlight.

“ Eat you, Raaaww-beeee !" the Lorelle-creature roared. " I'm going to eat you alive !"

He tried to listen only to his breathing and his dangerously rapid heartbeat as he ran across the street, trying to ignore the creature's voice, but -

– there was another figure moving toward him in the dark and Robby felt panic closing his throat and he was about to scream when -

– his dad turned on his flashlight and said, "Robby, you okay?"

"Yuh-yeah." He took a moment to catch his breath as his dad put an arm around him to hold him up. "Mom's over there, Dad, sh-she's in the house… with that thuh-thing."

George looked at Lorelle's house and said with almost childlike helplessness, "What're we gonna do, Robby? What're we gonna do to get her back?"

"I, uh… I don't think she wants to come back, Dad."

"Oh, god. What… what have we done?"

They embraced and stood there at the edge of the street until Pastor Quillerman came out and let them back into the house.

Alana Carson said "What the hell was that ?"

"I don't know," Will replied softly, “but it didn’t sound fun.”

They'd been sitting in the car debating whether or not to get a bite to eat and find a restroom when it happened. Now their hunger and bladders were forgotten.

"Look," Will said, "if you wanna stay here and do some kind of report on this – whatever this is – that's fine, but I want out, okay? I'm just gonna quietly back out of this one. You can keep the car if you want and I'll walk into town from here."

'"I need you Will."

"No you don't. Keep the camera, too. It's easy to use."

"You'll lose your job."

"Fine. Let 'em fire me. There's some really weird shit going on here and I don't want to look into it any more than we have. Whatever made that sound is not friendly, and it's in that house right over there."

“I don't understand why no one is calling the police," Alana said, looking around at the other houses.

"Because there's something wrong with this whole fucking neighborhood . Something's not right about this place, about these people . Can’t you feel it?”

Alana turned toward him in the seat. "In that case, this story could really do something for us.”

"Like what? Get us killed?"

"No, I mean for our reputations, our careers. Look around. You see any other reporters here? Nope. We’re it. We could be sitting on a gold mine here. Now grab that camera and let's go get some -"

"No."

She sighed. "Tell you what, Will, if you stick with me, I might just break my own rule."

"What rule?"

"My rule about not fooling around with co-workers."

"Oh that one. That was weeks ago. I expected you to say that. Just thought I'd give it a shot."

"C'mon, Will." She took his hand. "Please."

He thought about it a while, then growled, "Shit," and opened the car door.

Pastor Quillerman stayed on the front porch while George and Robby went inside and closed the door behind them.

Quillerman stared across the street at Lorelle's house, reached into his pocket and jingled his keys as he murmured, "Now we can get something done."

He went down the porch steps and headed for his pickup.

In the Street

Inside, Jen followed George and Robby to the living room where they fell heavily onto the sofa. They sat there silently for a long while with Jen staring at them, frightened.

"What wrong?" she whispered finally. When they didn't reply, she moved toward them and, with panic in her voice, asked, "What's happened? Where's Mom? Dad? Where is she ?"

George stared at her with empty, frightened eyes.

The pickup started outside.

George turned toward the window slowly, stood and looked outside.

The pickup's headlights cut through the neighborhood's blackness like swords. It pulled away from the curb slowly, easing all the way up the street and then turning around before Pastor Quillerman finally spoke into the loudspeaker.

"I know that the creature of which I spoke earlier has visited you today," he said. "I know that she has tried to warn you about me, probably instructed you to get rid of me. But I am still here. I hope you will listen to me and I hope you will think carefully about what I have to say."

The pickup reached the end of the street and turned around again.

Alana said, "I'm gonna go stand in front of the damned thing."

"Didn't do any good before," Will said.

"I won't move. I'll jump on the hood if I have to."

"I suppose you want it on tape."

"Of course. What good is it if we don’t get it on tape?" She stepped off the sidewalk and into the street.

Pastor Quillerman lifted his foot off the accelerator and the pickup slowed to a stop. He stared at the woman standing before the pickup as he continued to talk into the microphone.

"Come out, please. Come out and talk with me. Let's all talk together. I think if you listened to one another, if you simply looked at one another, you would realize what's been happening around you. You would realize what this woman – this creature – has done to your neighbors, and to you . So please come out here and let's talk together."

The reporter shouted, " I’d like to talk to you, Pastor.”

"You have my word that I am not here to proselytize or preach," he went on, ignoring her. "I am not here to recruit members for my church. I am only here to help people who I know are in trouble. You are all in trouble here, and I beg you to make it stop. Please come out here, all of you, and talk. Please."

The reporter waved her cameraman over and he stood before the pickup while she went to Pastor Quillerman's window. She rapped her knuckles on the glass and said. "What woman are you talking about? What has she done?"

"I'm sorry," he said, "but I can't talk right now."

Her shoulders sagged with frustration and she stared at him.

Pastor Quillerman lifted the microphone again, opened his mouth, but said nothing because -

– there was an odd rumbling sound coming from the darkness to the left. The woman heard it, too, and turned, as Quillerman did, in the direction of the sound.