The wind bit as he stepped from the car.
“Are we still going tonight?” he asked.
“Maybe later, I got someone to talk to first” you reply.
“Man, you’re not still after Andrew are you? Let it slide you know…”
“No way I’m letting it slide until I have it finished.”
Slowly you pull up the hood to your jacket, hearing the wind drop to a whisper as you cocoon yourself.
Vince looked up over the front of his bonnet, amazed to see a house growing where none had been before. He did not recognise the sounds he heard as a human noise. The cries were far too low and gruesome.
He wiped the blood from his eyes and looked to his left. He was appalled to see Rebecca slumped in her seat, her head at a strange angle.
Her lack of response did not really surprise him, he could see that she should not be alive, could not be alive, and was not alive.
“Shit” Cold, flat. His voice did not echo.
Dane laughs as you step up to the door.
“He won’t be home, he never is when you come here. Why would tonight be any different?”
He throws his cigarette butt on the floor and grinds it with his heel.
You lean on the doorbell until you hear footsteps coming up the hall.
“Let me play with Elmo, I wanna make him wiggle”
“No way Tracey, it’s my turn, you had him all day yesterday.”
“But he likes me more than he likes you.”
The girls heard the glass breaking just in time to turn their faces towards the noise. Each suffered more as a consequence. Rachel would never see again, a sheet of glass breaking against the flat of her nose and embedding itself deep in her skull taking the top of her fingers, too slow to ward off the shining pain. Tracey suffered less, or not for as long in any case. A long shard drifted slowly into her right eye and nestled lovingly in the depths of her brain. As the last of her thoughts fled she gripped down and Elmo giggled and wiggled at the tinkling sound of breaking lives.
“Well, someone’s home…”
“Who is it?”
There is no answer and she slides the chain into place.
Sue hates it when people knock.
Flakes of dandruff litter her shoulders.
“Who is it?”
“It’s me” she hears through the wood and glass. She turns on the outside light but can see nothing more than a shape through the frosted glass.
Carefully she opens the door.
“Helpful. What do you want?” She fires her question out while thoughtlessly playing with the loop in the chain securing the door against nothing but a sharp kick.
“I’m looking for Andrew. Is he in?”
“Na, he’s not here. Nor are his folks. They all went out. I’m babysitting.”
She moves to close the door but stops as she sees fingers insinuate themselves past the frame, desperately wanting to slam the door but not wanting to hurt the person on the other side.
‘Why can’t they just leave me alone?’ she thinks.
“When are they coming back?”
“About ten I think. You can’t come in.”
As you look at her you hear the squeal of tyres rounding a corner far too fast. You turn and see a past it’s use by date car haring toward you. As the lights flash across your face you are blinded but vision returns with a sudden clarity. A stationary image of the driver holds itself long after the light carrying it has fled the scene. His eyes caught on yours. He knows that he is in trouble as you do.
The car swings past you, over the kerb and the oh so carefully laid out garden. Gravel skids up at you and you turn, averting your eyes and inadvertently directing your right ear. The sound is vast. Tearing, tinkles and scrappy crunches.
You turn back to see the car forced through the front window of the house, the driver slumped of the wheel, the passenger lolling idly in her seat.
The profanity drags you back to the door and you see girl run back down the hall. The door swinging to the extent of its chain creates a metallic rattle, disappearing in the mix of sounds coming from the settling glass and brick to your right.
“Never mind. I’ll come back later.” You say to the door.
Dane shrugs at you as you walk back to the car.
“Told you he wouldn’t be there.”