Tim Curran - The Devil Next Door

Which was pretty good advice, but Louis figured Dick was locked hard in an aggression mode and he was going to attack either way. The thing was, though, that you couldn’t let him see fear and at the same time, you couldn’t appear too threatening. Dick had to be treated like a mad dog, nothing more.

“Where’s Nancy, Dick? Where’s your wife? Where are the girls?” Louis said, hoping this would be like a slap across the face.

“Nancy…Nancy’s dead. I killed her, Louis. She didn’t understand how it is. She fought against it. She didn’t see how… pure things are now. So I took this axe and I fixed that bitch.”

“Louis…” Macy said.

But he couldn’t risk taking his eyes off Dick for even a second. He was not a fighting man. He was not a violent sort. But down deep he was a man as any other and if it came down to it, he would fight to protect what was his. He would not sacrifice Macy to Dick Starling. He could not and would not let that happen.

“Get out of my way, Louis.”

“Can’t do that, Dick. You know I can’t.” He just shook his head. “C’mon, Dick. Think, try and think-”

“I don’t wanna think! I hate thinking!”

“-please, Dick, just try. Something’s happening in this town. Some kind of sickness has gotten people and it’s got you, too. It’s making you do bad things.”

“Yeah, you’re right, Louis,” he said, “and I’ve never, ever felt so alive before.”

Enough conversation and they both knew it.

Louis would have had an easier time convincing an ironing board it was a doorstop than changing Dick Starling’s mind. Louis steeled himself and Dick attacked. He made another coarse grunting sound in his throat and swung the axe with everything he had, two-handed. Louis ducked past it and the blade struck the refrigerator with a clanging sound, denting the front right in and leaving a six-inch gash. Macy screamed and Louis shouted and Dick snarled, bringing the axe back around. The blade missed Louis’ chest by a scant two or three inches. But the backward swing through Dick off balance and Louis went right at him, grabbing the axe handle in both hands and fighting with everything he had for it. Under ordinary circumstances, it might have been a dead heat. Louis was taller than Dick, but Dick outweighed him by thirty pounds.

But there was nothing ordinary about this situation: Dick Starling was an animal filled with animal fury.

Louis threw everything he had into it, trying to throw Dick off balance, but Dick wasn’t having it. When he couldn’t wrench the axe free from Louis’ grip, he kicked and stomped and then put all his maniacal strength into it. And, dear God, what they said about crazy people being strong was true. Louis held onto the handle and Dick still swung it, swung it and Louis through the air, slamming him down on top of the table. Dick was just mad. His eyes were wide and shining, drool foaming from his lips, a stink of blood and bad meat coming off of him in rank waves.

“I’ll kill you, Louis!” he muttered with almost a growling sound. “I’ll fucking kill you, kill you, kill you…”

Louis hung on, giving Dick a few good kicks to the legs that did nothing but infuriate him. He kept lifting Louis up and slamming him back down again and again and Louis knew, just knew, there was no goddamn way he was winning this one. Dick would tire him out, kill him, and then…and then…

And that’s when Macy stepped up behind Dick and struck him with an empty wine bottle. The impact was heavy. It made a hollow, thudding sound and it stopped Dick. He looked more confused than anything. Then Macy swung it with everything she had and it smashed right over his head in a spray of green glass.

He folded up instantly.

Dazed and disoriented, he tried to crawl across the floor at Macy, groaning and spitting. Louis jumped off the table and kicked him in the side of the head with everything he had. Dick went out cold.

“Thanks, honey,” Louis panted, trying to catch his breath.

“He isn’t dead, is he?” she asked.

Then Dick moaned. Nope, not dead at all.

“We better do something with him,” she said.

Louis smiled at her. Little Macy was no cringing wallflower, not when she got her ire up. There were plenty of teenage girls who would have screamed and ran, but not this girl. If you had to be trapped in a nightmare like this, then Macy was the girl to be trapped with.

Louis reached down and grabbed Dick’s ankles. “Open the door,” he said.

Macy opened the back door and Louis dragged him from the kitchen, grunting and puffing. It was no easy bit. Maybe it looked easy on TV, but in reality dragging a full-grown man around was hard, sweaty work. And Dick was nothing but dead weight.

Louis got him to the steps and let him roll down. He heard Dick’s head bang off the steps, but he didn’t feel a single twinge of guilt over it. With Macy’s help, he dragged him through the grass to the garage. It was no easy trick getting him through the door, but they did it.

“He’s going to thank us for this later,” Louis panted.

He took duct tape and taped Dick’s wrists together behind his back, using a lot of it. Even a madman couldn’t tear his way out. Then he took a length of chain and passed it around Dick’s taped wrists and wound it around a support beam that went from floor to rafters above. He slapped a Masterlock on the chain and that was that.

Macy stared down at Dick. “You heard what he said, Louis. About his wife. About Nancy.”

“I heard.”

Louis hoped it wasn’t true, but he figured it was.

Nancy, for godsake.

She was one of the nicest people you could hope to meet. When Michelle and he had moved into the neighborhood, she had been the first one at the door. She brought over a wicker basket with a bottle of wine and a loaf of bread in it. That’s the kind of person she was.

Outside, Louis tried Michelle’s number on her cell. Nothing.

“Maybe she’s still at work.”

Louis shrugged. “She should have been home an hour ago even if she worked late.”

But he dialed up Farm Bureau anyway. It couldn’t hurt. It was answered on the fourth ring and Louis brightened a bit. “Hello? Carol? Carol, is that you?”

Carol was Michelle’s boss. “Who’s this?”

“Louis. Louis Shears.”

“What do you want?”

Louis was not feeling so bright now. He could hear it in Carol’s voice: the madness. It didn’t have her all the way yet, but she was close. Just teetering on the brink of darkness.

“Is Michelle still there?”

“No, she’s not here. I’m here.”

“Carol, when did she leave?”

“Who cares? What do you want her for, anyway?” There was a smacking sound on the other end that might have been Carol licking her lips. “I’m here, Louis. Why don’t you come down. I’ll wait for you.”

Louis hung up. “C’mon, Macy, let’s get out of here.”

They ran to the car, but Louis already had the feeling that he was simply too late…

“I don’t want to go crazy again,” Macy said as they pulled away from the house. “I don’t want to feel like that again.”

Louis licked his lips, wondering if he should ask what he needed to ask. “Was it…was it very bad?”

Macy just stared straight ahead, but didn’t seem to be so much looking out as looking in. She nodded her head slightly. “It was horrible. It was kind of blurry before, but now I’m remembering more. I mean, I knew what I did, I could recall it all right, but I couldn’t make sense of it.”

“But now you can?”

She nodded. “Yes, I can. I never liked Chelsea…that’s the girl I attacked…I didn’t like her then and I don’t like her now. She’s just a preppy, stuck-up bitch. I know I shouldn’t say that, but that’s all she ever was. She treated me like dirt. Always had. I never did anything to her, I never smarted off to her…nothing. But she always hated me, always had it in for me. She’s just one of those people, right? Oh, look at me, look at how wonderful I am. I’m popular and special so that gives me the right to turn my nose up at everyone and be a snotty, uppity witch. So, yeah, I guess I hated her. I think most kids do, except for the idiots in her little posse and all the boys that drool over her.”