Return to Red Creek Nathan Hystad (e books free to read .txt) 📖

“The night the Smiths were busted, Tyler was there. He was deputized by Sheriff Cliff. God, we used to make fun of that guy when we were kids. He was always sitting in his car like a slob, parked on Main and eating cheeseburgers. Turns out he was the one who saved Paul Alenn in the nineties, and saved his daughter that night,” Rich said.

“Are you telling me the sheriff believes there’s a monster living in Red Creek? A supernatural thing that goes bump in the night?” Tom asked. It was incredible. He’d heard about the horror author’s involvement but had always thought it was a publicity stunt to sell more books.

Rich nodded and faced forward in his seat, eyes on the road. “He does, and so do I. Humans couldn’t do what the Smiths were accused of. There had to be a hundred skeletons in that hole. Did you see the footage?” he asked, referring to the camera footage a local man had filmed that evening.

“I think the guys at the Gilden PD like to haze the newbies with the footage. They warned me what I might be getting involved with when I first started. They all seem to want to stay away from your town, Rich, but I don’t think it’s because of a monster,” Tom said as they entered the town limits. Soon he was moving toward Wood Street in his unmarked car.

All this talk about monsters and shadows was getting to him. His gaze darted from side to side as he scanned parked cars, trying to spot a gunman. Street lights flickered ahead, all in time with each other.

“That’s not good,” Rich said, gulping loudly.

“What?”

“The lights. They’re surrounding the Alenn house. The sheriff always said that his friend Paul was tied up in all this,” Rich said as Tom pulled over directly in front of the derelict home.

“Someone lives here?” Tom asked.

“Nope. Not for a couple years. Kid went nuts, I guess. Bank owns it, but no one will move in.” Rich opened his door and unholstered his gun. The deputy was a man of action, at least; Tom would give him credit where it was due.

“Officers?” A man was calling to them from two houses over. He ran toward them, calling out. Then he stopped, panting, and pulled his bathrobe tightly over his pajamas.

“Were you the one who called us?” Tom asked.

The old man nodded, his hair a white puffy wisp. “They went that way!” His movements were rigid and exaggerated. Tom’s gaze followed the man’s finger and saw a path at the end of the yard. It was the same trail he’d used to find Brittany’s shoe. He looked at his shoes, which he’d half-heartedly washed at the station, and grimaced. He’d need to buy a new pair after this weekend.

“Who’s ‘they’?” Deputy Rich asked, his voice deeper and more sure of itself around the civilian.

“I don’t know. There were a few of them.” The man was pointing, his eyebrows bushy and raised high on his creased forehead.

A few of them? What the hell was going on? This town kept surprising Tom, and not in a good way. “And they all went down that path, on foot?” he asked.

The man nodded.

“How long ago was this?” Tom asked.

“Fifteen minutes or so.”

“Good. Get inside, lock the door, and stay put, okay?” Tom ordered, and the man seemed only too happy to hole up in his house. Without another word, he was jogging back, nearly losing a fuzzy slipper in the process.

The lights were still flickering, and the constant flashing was giving Tom a headache. “Come on, Rich. Let’s go,” he said, and they made for the pathway between the houses. Tom smelled the rain before he felt the first drop. Ozone filled his nostrils, and he cursed himself for not bringing an umbrella.

_______________

Emma sat in her car, a block from the Watsons’ house. There was a single car in the drive, and one newer model parked on the street. The boy was inside. She didn’t know his name, but she could smell him from here.

It wasn’t her own senses. It was the creature’s: the Anbieter, traveling with her. Emma looked in the mirror and saw the black mist escaping the corners of her eyes. She was an unwilling participant now, merely a vessel for the ancient creature to use until it was strong enough to move of its own volition once again. One more feeding. Then she could finally leave.

The thought came to her without thinking, and the creature pressed deeper into her mind at the blasphemous notion. Emma couldn’t leave; she knew that now. For the last few years, she’d been convincing herself that her part in this play would eventually end. Now she felt that it wouldn’t, not until either it was dead or she was. And one of them would be easier to dispose of.

Her gaze scurried around the car. She was unable to move her head, as it had taken control now. There was a gun in her glove box. If she could only grab it, press the barrel to her head, and find the strength to pull the trigger, she might be able to save some lives.

Yes, she could do it. What did she need to live for anymore? Her life was a constant struggle, a living nightmare. She’d helped this thing kill two children so far and knew it would never stop. She’d only get under its spell more and more, the stronger it got. If it fed now, there was no turning back. It would be unleashed on this community once again.

Umziehen. The single word branded into her mind, and Emma instantly knew the translation. Relocate. It was promising they would move after tonight. She closed her eyes and saw an image. She stood in a forest, somewhere at the base of a mountain; Colorado, perhaps. It had been in Red Creek too long; even the demon knew that. It was telling her to help it