Mr. 8 Read online

  “I said leave her out of this!”

  Eddie marched off into the living room. Denton watched him slump against the fireplace, his outstretched arms on the mantle, and his head cast down, looking at the fire. He didn’t need glasses to see how troubled the boy was.

  Denton sat there thinking about what to say next. He had to be careful. If he pushed him too far, too soon, he might shut down completely.

  “I’m sorry,” he finally said. “I didn’t mean to upset you. That wasn’t my intention.”

  Eddie continued to stand there, staring at the logs as they burned their way down to ash and embers.

  “Sometimes it helps to talk about these things.” Denton hoped his soft words would draw Eddie back over to him. “Everybody makes mistakes in their lives. Everybody does things they regret. What’s important is that—”

  “Do you really think I killed my own mother?” The question was filled with pleading. From the movement of his head, Denton could tell Eddie was watching him waiting for the answer.

  “No. I never said that.” Eddie took a tentative step toward him. “I don’t think you did it, Eddie.” The boy moved closer. His movements made it seem as though he were in a trance. “I know you loved your mother, didn’t you?”

  He was close enough for Denton to see him nod.

  “It was Alvin, wasn’t it? Or was it Danny?” He risked the cruel words. He let them hit the boy like two slaps, hoping they would open the wound that would turn him against his friends.

  “You just don’t get it, do you?” Eddie said through clenched teeth. He grabbed Denton by the shoulders. If he had been standing, it would have been an aggressive, threatening gesture. But with him strapped to the chair, there was something ridiculous about the way Eddie was awkwardly leaning over him.

  “You keep saying that. Tell me. Make me understand.” Denton tried but failed to keep his irritation from seeping through.

  “She was already dead.”

  Denton tried to work out what Eddie meant. Had someone else killed her and they just disposed of the body?

  “When Danny shot her, she was already dead. We were on the floor. She was on top of me.” Eddie fell back into the chair opposite Denton and started crying into his hands. “She was trying to kill me.”

  Denton’s mind went blank. He had expected some bizarre rationalization, but he wasn’t even sure he comprehended what the boy had said.

  “When you say dead…?”

  “It wasn’t her anymore. The infection had taken over completely,” he said through his tears. “She was trying to kill me, trying to turn me into one of them.”

  “Turn you into one of them?” Denton was too stunned to do more than repeat what had already been said.

  “The aliens. They infect us like a disease. It’s true. I watched her change. I watched her turn into something else.” The last few words were lost to sobs.

  “Her personality changed, was that it?” Denton asked. “She changed her habits, started painting in a different style, that sort of thing?”

  “Yeah.” He sucked the snot back into his nose with a loud sniffle. “It started like that. She lost all interest in riding. I even got a call from the stable. She hadn’t been by in weeks. Hadn’t paid them. Hadn’t seen her horses. But by the end, it wasn’t her anymore, and she wanted to change me. If Danny hadn’t shown up….” He shook his head despondently. “He took care of it. He took care of me. He takes care of everything.”

  The silence that followed was horrible in its depth.

  So, was that what had happened? Agatha Radcliff had fallen under the strange spell of the eights—whatever that really was. But instead of scribbling eights, she put them in her paintings. No longer did she work with the single circle, half sun and half moon, but she used two circles to form the pattern. Just as the strange personality change had caused the shut-in to become social and the neat-freak to become messy, the New-Ager became violent. She attacked her son. Enter Danny with a gun and a crackpot explanation about aliens. He kills her, and then they dragged her body out to the old mill and burned it. Why?

  “The infection. You set them on fire to stop the spread of the disease?”

  “No.” All trace of emotion was absent from Eddie’s voice. “We burn them so they stay dead.”

  The eyes that looked at him were watery and empty. Denton needed to act before the boy pulled himself together. If he were going to do anything, he had to do it while he was still vulnerable.

  “You know if I stay here, he’s going to order one of you to kill me, right?”

  “Yes,” Eddie said, with a weak rasp.

  “Do you want my blood on your hands?” Denton asked. “I’m not an alien. You can’t so simply justify my death.”

  “There’s nothing I can do.”

  “You can set me free.” Denton dropped his voice and in a conspiratorial hush. “Let me out of here. Listen, I have friends in the police. I can explain it to them. They’ll believe me. The three of you don’t have to do this on your own. How can you stop an invasion by yourselves? Danny is well intentioned, but you can end this tomorrow with the police and the army on your side. Let us help.”

  There was no response.

  “How long do you think it’ll be until something happens to one of you?” Denton tried a new tactic. “What if an alien kills one of you or infects you? Think about it. What would happen if Danny got infected? Would you want to have to kill and burn him? If we get the military in here that will never happen. Danny’s too proud to ask for help, you know that. But we can do it in secret. We can do it right now. Just untie these ropes.”

  Eddie pulled himself to his feet with one swift motion. There was menace in his movements. He pulled out something from his pocket. Even before it glinted in the light, Denton realized it was a knife by the way it was unfolded. He had gone too far and now he was going to pay for it.

  “Stay quiet,” Eddie whispered. Then, he started sawing through the ropes on Denton’s left wrist.

  Denton was unable to restrain his sigh of relief. He was actually going to leave here alive.

  When the restraints were off, he got to his feet and tried to work the circulation back into his body.

  “Here.” Eddie tossed Denton his overcoat.

  He had no idea where his sport coat was, but he had no problem leaving it behind. He would have gone out naked into the winter’s night if it meant freedom.

  He swung the coat on, while Eddie slipped into his boots by the door.

  Denton felt around the pockets and found his scarf. He carefully draped it around his neck, not for warmth but just to feel it against his skin. The smooth wool lent him the comfort of memory and made him feel a little closer to Linda at that moment.

  As he passed the table, he noticed a book sitting on it. The book Danny had waved around. Curiosity got the better of him and he picked it up. He brought it close enough to his face to see it clearly. The glossy cover was well creased. It looked as if it had been read a hundred times. Two garish red eyes looked out at him from the face of a demonic figure. It had large curved horns like a goat and sat on a throne of bones. In a dramatic gothic font was written: Curious Tales of the Supernatural by John Philip Gasher.

  All this because of some dime-store horror story. If he lived to be a million, he would never understand people.

  “So this explains it all?” he said with bitterness, putting it back down.

  “It’s in one of the stories.” Eddie whispered loudly to be heard across the room. “The Spreading Evil. C’mon, we have to go.”

  “No one’s going anywhere.”

  Danny stood on the landing. The revolver in his hand extended over the banister.

  “Get away from the door,” he said to Eddie, as he started down the stairs, the pistol never wavering.

  Chapter 21

  6:26 a.m.
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  THE REVOLVER KEPT A STEADY AIM on Eddie’s chest. Danny’s arm never wavered, while his bare feet moved down the stairs without a sound.

  He may have dressed in a hurry, but considering his intense paranoia, it made more sense that he didn’t want to be caught naked when his enemies came for him, and he had only removed his sock and his heavy work shirt when he went to bed.

  The fire had died down during the night, and the room was too cold to be wearing only jeans and a T-shirt. But it didn’t seem to bother him. His rage had likely raised his body temperature several degrees.

  Just before he reached the bottom, he called out, “Alvin, get your lazy ass down here.”

  Denton’s attention was immediately drawn to the thumps and clatters coming from upstairs. There was a loud squeak of unoiled hinges and then Alvin stumbled out onto the landing in nothing but his boxers.

  “What’s going on?” he asked, in a groggy voice.

  “Looks like we have a traitor.” The last word was accentuated by the creak of a wide maple floorboard as it took his weight. He kept the same precision gait, heading through the seating area to Eddie.

  “It’s not like that.” Eddie held his hands up limply. It wasn’t so much a sign of surrender, as it was one of defenselessness.

  “Listen, I can explain,” Denton said.

  Danny took the gun off Eddie and swung it around toward Denton. The muscles in his arm and neck were strained and protruded from his skin like the rigid roots of a tree.

  “If you say one more fucking word, I’ll shoot you in your fucking face.”

  Without conscious thought, Denton backed up and put a dining room chair between him and the pistol.

  “He wants to help,” Eddie said. The barrel swiveled back to him.

  Danny took a few predatory steps forward. “What you didn’t think I couldn’t hear you up there? Didn’t think stupid Danny would hear you plotting against him? Hmm? All it took was a few minutes of his venom and you turn your back on us.”

  There was something oddly calculating about the way Alvin was creeping down the stairs. Until now, the redhead had only shown signs of rambunctious action. Was this a situation he didn’t want to get in the middle of? Or did he sense some unseen threat? The expression on his face was inscrutable.

  “I didn’t turn my back on anyone. We’re all on the same side. He can get the police to help. We don’t have to fight them alone anymore.”

  Danny forced a laugh and then in a mocking voice said, “The police will help. Yeah, right. They’ll lock us up so fast your head will spin. And then the invaders will be free to overrun the town.”

  “But we can’t do it on our own.”

  “Yes, we can. We’ve done it all on our own. We almost have it contained. There are only a few more of them left.”

  Alvin stopped just behind Danny. His eyes darted from one friend to the other, as each of them spoke. Did he have conflicting loyalties? Might he side with Eddie and disarm Danny?

  Whatever he was thinking, all of his attention was on the other two. And all of Danny’s attention was squarely on Eddie. It didn’t take Denton more than a second to determine there was only one potential way out. The front door and the stairs were blocked. The bathroom was a dead end. He’d never get a window open fast enough. That left the dark gulf of the hallway. Framed with roughhewn boards, the opening sat between the living and the dining area. He had no idea what was down there or where it led. The lights had always been off and his myopic vision was unable to penetrate it. But it was his only hope.

  He took a slow, tentative step toward it. His gaze was firmly locked on Danny and Alvin, trying to detect any twitch—any sign that they might turn towards him.

  “Look.” Eddie’s voice was pleading with a raw edge that reminded Denton of the emotional outburst he had when they spoke about his mother. “Just put the gun down, alright.”

  “No, it’s not alright. Alvin, help our friend here into that chair.” He gestured to one, a few feet from the gun rack. It had dark wooden arms and the back was upholstered with a large needlepoint of a wild goose taking flight.

  “I’ll go on my own,” Eddie said, but Alvin didn’t break stride.

  He grabbed him brutally by both forearms and yanked Eddie toward the chair. The force lifted his feet off of the ground and he was hauled away from the front door. Eddie fought to get away, leaning his whole body backward, but Alvin’s hands gripped him like clamps.

  This was the malice that Denton had come to expect from the big man. Perhaps his earlier hesitance was only lingering fatigue.

  The hallway inched closer.

  Alvin tensed his muscles and braced his legs to prepare for his next tug. He looked like he was getting ready to fling Eddie across the room. But before he could, Eddie acted. In one swift instant, he stopped struggling, the resistance in Alvin’s arms pulled him in close, and his knee made contact with the crotch of the striped boxers.

  The blow made no noise, but the room was filled with the sharp intake of breath followed by a bellow. “You son-of-bitch!”

  Alvin recoiled. His hands automatically went to his groin. He doubled over and took an off balance step backward. Eddie charged at him, easily sending him sprawling on the floor.

  “Keep your damn hands off of me,” Eddie screamed down at him.

  Danny didn’t say a word. He just moved in, closer to Eddie. He hyperextended his arm and thrust the gun out, as though the few extra inches made it a more deadly weapon.

  Denton stopped moving. The void in the wall was directly behind him.

  “Cut the shit. You’re not going to shoot me. We’ve been friends since kindergarten.” The pleading was gone. Anger was in its place, fired up by the sudden physical conflict.

  “Friendship has nothing to do with it. This is war. We’re talking about the survival of the human race.”

  Alvin slowly pulled himself up off the floor, using an end table for support. Raw hatred exuded from his being, but he hung back watching to see what Danny would do.

  “Have you forgotten? I am human.”

  “You’re a traitor. To us and to humanity.”

  The raspy sound of his own breathing filled Denton’s ears. Despite the boy’s crimes, he didn’t want to see him gunned down before his eyes. He felt as if he should call out or say something—create a distraction and buy Eddie a bit more time. How much time would it take Danny to turn and shoot him? How much time would that buy?

  Danny would have no problem killing him. He had plenty of blood on his hands already. He wouldn’t hesitate. But he was hesitating—with Eddie.

  If he wanted Eddie dead, he would have done it already. He really did not want to pull that trigger. He was looking for a reason not to. Denton wished he could somehow communicate this to Eddie. If he only kept talking, he might make it through this. But the boy was on his own.

  Instead of saying anything, he tried to slow his breathing and keep to the plan. Whether it was intentional or not, it was Eddie who was buying him time.

  “I bet he’s been infected,” Alvin said, goading Danny. He hovered just behind the freckle faced boy. His head was bent low to talk directly in his ear. It was reminiscent of the old image of a devil perched on someone’s shoulder.

  Was that why he had hesitated on the stairs? Had he been trying to work out how this might benefit him? Perhaps he saw this as his opportunity to move up to the number two spot.

  Danny shifted the position of his sweaty hand on the gun’s grip, without lowering the barrel. “Maybe you have changed. Is that why you untied him?”

  “It’s me, Danny.” Staring down the barrel only inches from his face was putting a quiver in his voice and in his knees. “I looked at the circles this morning. The same as the two of you. You saw.”

  “He’s not human. Shoot him,” Alvin urged.

  Danny ignored the tau
nt. “So why betray us? Tell me. I’d like to know.”

  Denton took his first cautious step, backwards into the darkness. He gently placed the toe of his right foot just behind his left. Then he gradually lowered his foot until the heel was flat on the floor. Every movement was slow and deliberate. There was no way he was going to risk the soles of his boots clicking or squeaking on the floor.

  “I didn’t betray anyone. I was trying to save us. We were going to get help. Just think how fast we could put an end to this if we had the police and the army on our side. We can’t keep it secret forever. We can’t start killing real people.”

  “Do you remember that first night? Do you?” His last two words were accented with matching stabs of the gun. “Do you remember how your mother fought?”

  “Don’t.” The word was a warning. Eddie clearly did not want to remember that night any more than the guilt already forced the memories to haunt him.

  “Shoot him now, Danny.”

  Toe to heel. Toe to heel.

  “If I hadn’t shown up you’d be dead, or you’d be one of them now. But I did show up. I got her off of you. I threw her down the stairs. Remember?”

  “Please, don’t.” His anger was melting away.

  Denton hazarded taking his eyes off of Danny and looked down the hallway. The milk white glow of two windows floated in the dim haze behind him. He turned and left the scene of his abduction and the three boys.

  “But that didn’t stop her, did it? We spent half the night tracking her. It took all three of us to take her down. Remember?”

  “Stop,” Eddie wailed.

  “Kill him before he jumps you. You know how quickly they can move,” Alvin whispered like a snake. Even hushed, the words followed Denton down the corridor.

  “Remember the vow we took that night. To stop them at all costs. And to keep it secret! Remember? And you just throw it all away and risk everything. Why? For what? For him?”

  There was a beat of silence. Denton held his breath. He stood on the threshold of a kitchen. The soft illumination of the first light of a gray dawn came from a window over the sink and from one in the back door.