Nothing happened.
He tried harder, but remained earthbound.
Unease filtered through him. Was it because he was still so weak?
He lowered his arms and stared at the stump of his left wrist. Or had the loss of his hand affected his mastery over gravity? Through the years he’d used that mastery judiciously and with caution-it wouldn’t do to be seen floating in the air-and had found it of limited use. An occasional convenience. But now, when he needed it, it had deserted him.
“What are you doing out there?” the cow called from behind him. “Come in here right now before you catch your death of cold.”
No, he would not catch his death from a cold or any other infection. Viruses and bacteria had no chance against his immune system. But a too-low body temperature could stop his heart like anyone else’s.
Perhaps it was just as well he couldn’t lift in his weakened condition. The ability might fail him while airborne. He needed more strength.
He could go back inside and begin slow work on the cow with a knife. No one would hear her screams as he fed on her agony and fear. But he saw no guarantee that would be enough. He would most likely have to take the boat back to the mainland anyway. That meant witnesses. And if evidence were found in the house, he would be subjected to the inconvenience of a police investigation.
All reasons why he rarely harmed anyone himself. So much better to induce someone else to commit an atrocity.
Patient… he must be patient.
He returned to the house.
8
“How much farther, do you think?” Eddie said, panting.
Jack and Eddie were both in the hole, digging their way east along the dirt-filled subterranean corridor. They’d fill buckets with the excavated dirt, which Weezy would pull up on ropes and dump into the basement.
Jack had driven down to Spurlin’s Hardware and bought shovels, an aluminum ladder, lanterns, and the rest of the equipment. Then he’d picked up sandwiches and drinks at the Krauszer’s down on 206.
“We should be getting close,” Jack said. He looked back and up toward the hole in their ceiling and basement’s floor. “What do you think, Weez?”
Her face appeared in the opening. “If memory serves-”
“And it usually does,” Jack said.
“-you should have just a few more feet to go. If…” She hesitated.
“If what?”
“If the flood didn’t wash it deeper into the passage.”
Jack remembered the force of the water as it had surged against him back when they were teens. Quaker Lake lay to the west, just beyond the other end of the passage. That September, swollen by record September rains, it had broken into the passage, flooding it and nearly drowning Jack.
“If it moved even ten feet, we’re sunk. We’re going to have to find Tommy and company and pay them ourselves. No way the three of us can dig that far.”
“We don’t have the authority to do that,” Eddie said. “This Szeto guy must have cleared it with the Council first. No way they’re going to clear it for us.”
“Who says they have to know? We can-”
“Hey, guys!” Weezy said in a hushed voice. “Quiet for just a minute.”
Jack glanced at Eddie and they shut up. Finally Jack said, “What’s up, Weez?”
Her voice filtered from above. “I swear I heard someone upstairs.”
Jack didn’t like that. He climbed the ladder and retrieved his Glock from his jacket pocket.
“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.”
TUESDAY
1
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.”