Virgil Porter sat up rigidly as soon as the screeching
began. There was no way anyone could have slept through such a loud and inhuman
sound. He was alert and tense to the point that he sprang to his feet and moved
halfway to the bedroom door before his wife Lucy had turned on the bedside
lamp.
“What is that?” she asked, moving
slower than her husband to get out of bed.
“Don’t get up. Just wait here,”
Virgil said. “I don’t think it’s coming from inside the house, but I want to
make sure.”
“It might be a burglar alarm,”
Lucy said, though she knew that she was grasping at straws in an effort to calm
her nerves.
Virgil stared at her with a
doubtful expression as he tried to figure out what the sound was similar to. He
had nothing close to compare it with, but he was sure it wasn’t a new trend in car
alarms. “Just stay here while I check it out.”
He padded down the hallway and
waved to his son and daughter both to go back into their rooms. Halfway down
the steps, he froze as new sounds joined into the screech. Every hair stood on
his body when he recognized the sounds were of a man and woman screaming in
terror. Their shrieks were brief, and the screeching continued unabated.
Virgil swallowed and turned to
look up the stairs, where he found his family staring back at him. “Go—” he
began, but stopped when Lucy shook her head.
“Just call the police,” she
whispered.
“Someone probably already is by—”
Virgil’s throat locked when a little girl began to scream. His heart pounded,
and he looked up to see both of his children clinging to Lucy with their faces
buried against her blue terrycloth robe.
The girl’s terrified voice
faltered, and then the screeching ended a second later. Virgil gasped, finally
letting go of his breath. He turned to move down the stairs, but he couldn’t at
first. His legs felt too rubbery to trust. He set his hand on the railing to
steady himself and began to walk down into the main hallway.
He checked the row of tiny windows
set beside his front door, and he saw several of his neighbors were already
outside. He opened the door and waved to his next door neighbor, Tony Wharton.
They both moved to join the group of husbands gathering in the middle of the
street, and Virgil started to look around to see who was missing. Others did as
well, but no one was ready to speak yet.
Finally, the silence got to
Virgil, and he cleared his throat. “Who’s missing?”
His question wasn’t answered, and
instead, his neighbors began to ask questions of each other at random. What was
the noise? Where did it come from? Did anyone see anything? The questions
continued to come without answers, and the men were only repeating themselves.
Virgil set his fingers at the corners of his mouth and made a high pitched,
loud whistle. “Hey! Nobody knows what happened yet, so there’s no point asking
any question but who’s missing! Now look around, and try to figure out who
isn’t here, because they’re probably dead, and so is their daughter.”
Silence settled over the men. Some
of them watched Virgil with angry glares, but he didn’t care. From the middle
of the crowd, he heard someone say, “Roy.”
Heads turned and looked around
before several nodded. “Yeah, it’s Roy Jackson missing,” Tony agreed. “He lives
up at the end of the block.”
Virgil turned to look where Tony
pointed and sighed. “Right, who’s coming with?”
“Ah hell,” Tony groaned, turning
to watch most of the men backing away from Virgil. “Well, it looks like I’m
going, but the rest of these guys—”
“No, I’ll go,” Alberto Sanchez
said as he moved to stand beside Virgil and Tony.
Virgil said, “Somebody should call
the police, but tell them not to bother with an ambulance.” He started to walk
up the street, offering Tony a thin smile. “Thanks. If I had to walk over there
alone, I was going to shit my pants for sure.”
“I probably will anyway,” Alberto
said and laughed soundlessly.
Tony only nodded, and Virgil’s
smile fell quickly. He didn’t know his neighbor Roy. It didn’t really matter,
because whatever had happened, he knew that they were already dead.
His mind tried repeatedly to find
a logical source for the screeching, but he couldn’t think of anything. It was
something primal and almost familiar to him, as if it was a sound that he
should recognize. Even thinking about it caused his skin to prickle all over
again.
The front door to Roy’s house was
wide open. Virgil heard the footsteps of both his neighbors stop, and he turned
around to frown at them. “Please, don’t make me go in there alone.”
Tony shook his head. “I’m going,
but shit, man. This doesn’t look good.”
“Maybe we should leave this up to
the police,” Alberto suggested.
“They’ll rope the place off and
maybe ask us a few questions, but I doubt they’ll tell us what happened in
there.” Virgil started walking toward the front porch of the house.
He made it up the first step
before he heard a noise from inside the house. He didn’t slow down, but his
mind began to work at identifying the new sound. He was just inside the door
when he realized that it was a woman breathing shallowly.
Reaching around to feel for a
switch, he turned on a light and regretted it instantly. On the floor in front
of him was a body. At least he wanted to believe it was a body. He didn’t want
to believe that any human being could survive being peeled.
“Oh my—” Alberto turned away from
the door.
Virgil glanced back to see him
throw up on the porch. He heard another splash behind him and thought, I guess Tony thought it was a good idea too.
He was close to being sick
himself, but something felt wrong to him. He knelt down beside the body and
shuddered. He could hear the woman breathing, but the only way he could tell
that the body was Roy’s wife were the soft whimpers that occasionally escaped
her lipless mouth.
He stood and looked around the
living room to search for a phone. He didn’t find one, and he moved gingerly
around the woman to try the kitchen. His eyes dropped down as the woman’s hand
closed around his ankle.
“Guys, help!” he cried, and panic
caused his voice to sound shrill.
“Oh god,” Alberto moaned, and he
spun away to heave bile onto the porch.
Tony staggered through the front door
and fell onto his knees. His dark face pinched in a look of revulsion as he
reached for the woman’s bloody hand. Virgil had to look away while he pried her
fingers loose, but the sound of her fingers squishing in Tony’s grasp was still
bad enough to have his head spinning.
He didn’t bother to thank Tony, or
even look down. He went into the kitchen, staring up for most of the trip. He
didn’t want to see the trail of blood left by the woman on her way through the
house. But he had to check, to make sure he was headed in the right direction.
In the kitchen, he looked down,
and then he did throw up. Doubling over, he gripped the door to stop himself
from falling, and he emptied his stomach directly onto the woman’s streaked
trail of blood.
Virgil wiped his mouth and raised
his head to stare at the body leaned against the refrigerator, and then down at
the pool of blood where Roy’s wife had to have been laying before she’d
attempted to...his mind locked, unable imagine how she had moved. Neither
dragging nor crawling seemed possible in her condition.
His glazed eyes drifted over the
phone, and it still took him another couple of seconds to realize that he’d
missed it. He noted gratefully that it was on the opposite side of the kitchen
from the body. Yet even thinking it, he knew he would have to check before
making the call.
Roy, however, was already dead,
and Virgil wasn’t sure whether to be upset or relieved.
He walked to the phone and dialed
911. “Emergency services, this is—”
“Listen there’s probably already
been a call made about this, but...” Virgil swallowed and shook his head. “Sir,
I’m calling from my neighbor’s house on Crescent Avenue. There was a loud noise
of some kind, and then—”
“Did anyone survive?” the
dispatcher cut him off.
Virgil was about to ask how he had
known, but it occurred to him that there was a tangible note of apprehension in
the dispatcher’s voice. “Yeah, there’s a woman here, but I don’t know her name.
She’s breathing shallowly, but she’s been skinned.”
“Please hold.” The line went
silent for a few seconds before the dispatcher returned. “Sir, can you stay on
the line with me until the police arrive?”
“Uh... I’d really rather not,”
Virgil admitted.
“Is there a problem, sir?” the
dispatcher asked.
“Yeah, there’s another peeled body
behind me here in the kitchen, and the smell is starting to get to me. I’ll
have to wait for the police outside.” He didn’t wait for permission before he
hung up and left the kitchen.
The next hour was a blur. The
police asked very few questions, and he had been sent home with a warning to be
careful.
As he walked to his house, he
wondered if his neighbors had been careful or not.
He sat in a chair in the kitchen,
clasping his hands to keep them from shaking. Lucy tried to get him to explain
what he’d seen, but he could only shake his head at her questions, staring
blankly at the refrigerator.
His mind churned with chaotic
thoughts, and time and again, he returned to the fear that he’d heard in the
dispatcher’s voice. He saw the same fear in the eyes of the officers who had
questioned him. Something had the police spooked, and Virgil had a sick feeling
that Roy and his family weren’t the only people to die that night.
He raised his head to watch Lucy
making a pot of coffee, and his eyes drifted to the window to confirm that the
sun was starting to rise.
Lucy asked, “Are you going to work
today?”
Virgil turned to gape at her in
frustration. “Lucy, I’ll spare you the details, but I just saw two out of the
three dead bodies in my neighbor’s house. I’m trying to figure out whether or
not the police already have some other cases like this coming in from last
night, and I’m wondering if it’s a good idea to stay in this neighborhood
if...” Trailing off, he shook his head. “No, I’m calling in sick today, and I’ll
bet you dollars to donuts that Tony and Alberto are calling in sick as well.”
Lucy turned to lean back against
the counter and watched him timidly. “What do you think happened to them?”
“Damned if I know.” Virgil sighed,
dropping his head tiredly. His memory slipped back into replaying the night
from the beginning, and his skin rippled as he thought of the screech.
He said, “I keep thinking that I
should know that sound. Something about it is familiar to me, but then it’s so
alien that I can’t put a name to it.”
Virgil considered going upstairs
to sleep, but despite being physically tired, he was too mentally wound up to
rest. He couldn’t work either. There was no way he could focus on his mundane
tasks at the gym with his mind still reeling from shock. He thought, Most of the neighbors will probably be
calling in today.
Lucy watched him rise from the
chair and walk toward the kitchen door. “Where are you going?”
“I’m going to find out who’s staying
home,” Virgil said. “I’ll invite whoever is staying to come over for a
brainstorming session. Maybe someone else has a better idea of what that sound
was.” |