One of the Dead by Richard Farren Barber & Crystal Lake Publishing

Author:Richard Farren Barber & Crystal Lake Publishing [Barber, Richard Farren & Publishing, Crystal Lake]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Crystal Lake Publishing
Published: 2024-03-19T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 17

“Why did they choose me?”

Nick considered saying nothing. It was probably better that he didn’t tell her. Definitely better. Keeping the secret was probably the best thing he could do.

“It’s my fault,” he said, but his mouth was so dry and his words were so quiet he was forced to repeat the confession before she heard him properly.

He stared at the man on the pavement and hated him. Before, fear had directed his actions, but before it had always been impersonal. When they had claimed people, Nick had been left with a dull sense that he should do something to stop them, but he had been frightened. He had always been frightened.

“Why?” Abby asked.

“They wanted to hurt me,” Nick said. It felt like he had been dodging his duty ever since he was old enough to understand what they were. Accepting responsibility for Abby was such a small thing and yet it felt so hard.

“What did you do to them?”

“Nothing. I did nothing.”

“So why punish you?” Abby asked. “Maybe it’s just random. Maybe I was just the wrong person in the wrong place.”

Nick shook his head. “No. He knew what he was doing when he claimed you. I saw him.” It occurred to him how quickly Abby had come to accept the reality of the situation. He could have told her months ago; he hadn’t needed to be alone.

Nick tapped on the window, and the dead man turned toward the noise.

“What did you do that for?”

“To see if he could hear us.”

The man stumbled across the pavement until he was standing outside the front door. Nick waited until his silhouette covered most of the glass.

“Okay, go to the back door and bang on that.”

Abby glared at him. “He’s not going to fall for that trick.”

“You have a better idea?”

“This is my life, Nick.”

“I know.” He tried to keep the heat out of his voice. The man was on the other side of the door. He could punch his hand through the glass and grab Abby. It wouldn’t take much. “I’m doing the best I can.”

She glared at him for a moment longer, as if searching for something to say, before storming through the corridor. A moment later the sound of her fist on the back door filtered through the house. Abby started shouting, howling like a dog.

The dead man at the door didn’t move.

“Go on,” Nick whispered. “It’s her you want, not me. Go after her.” He stepped back from the door and watched the shadow. The man didn’t move.

He wanted to bang on the door to scare him away, but that would probably have the opposite effect. Instead, he retreated down the corridor until he reached the kitchen.

Abby paused. “It’s not working?”

“I don’t think so.”

He looked along the length of the corridor. The dark shadow was still painted on the glass of the front door.

Abby reached down to the key in the lock.

“What are you doing?”

She shrugged. “Maybe he needs a little more incentive to come around here.” She opened the door.

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