Brian Keene - Urban Gothic

Javier opened a door with his left hand. The hinges squealed in protest, and he frowned at the noise. His right hand was drawn back, the belt wrapped into his fingers and the buckle dangling down like a short bullwhip. They hurried down the hallway, moving as quickly but quietly as possible, retracing their steps through the house. As they passed the room where Javier had killed the first midget, he ducked inside. When he emerged again, his expression was troubled.

“What’s wrong?” Heather asked.

“The body is missing.”

“What body?”

“The midget. The one we killed before Brett found us. I hid it in there, back in the shadows, and now it’s gone.”

“Maybe it was still alive,” Brett suggested.

Javier shook his head. “No. No way. I made sure it was dead. Noigel or one of the others must have found it.”

“Maybe that’s a good thing,” Kerri said.

“How the hell can it be a good thing?”

Kerri’s voice grew excited. “Noigel knows we’ve killed at least two of his friends. Maybe he’ll decide that makes us even. Maybe he’ll decide we’re more dangerous than their average prey, and he’ll let us go.”

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.”