The Portal by Russell James

Author:Russell James
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Suspense, supernatural, thriller, horror; gothic fantasy, dark fantasy, creepy stories
Publisher: Flame Tree Publishing
Published: 2020-09-21T17:41:15+00:00

Chapter Thirty-One

In the pre-dawn hours, Kyler stalked down the second-floor hallway of the Blue Fin Bed-and-Breakfast. R&R was over. They were on Mr. Oates’ timetable again.

“Let’s go!” He kicked on doors and banged his fist against walls as he moved down the hall. “This is your goddamn wakeup call. Downstairs in fifteen minutes. Let’s move.”

He knew there was as much chance of these shit bags being ready to roll in fifteen minutes as there was of him becoming pope. Thirty minutes would even be a stretch.

He went downstairs and entered the kitchen. It looked like a pack of wild boar had been through it. Half-eaten everything lay strewn all over the table and countertops. A dozen drained bottles of very expensive wine lay on their sides in the corner. Kyler laughed remembering how one of the men had gone over and kicked the shit out of the innkeeper’s corpse, punishment for a beer-free refrigerator. Only the wine cellar’s discovery kept the innkeeper from heading into the afterlife as a pile of goo.

Kyler started a pot of coffee. He needed it anytime the day started at oh-dark-thirty in the morning. While the coffee perked, Kyler went into what had originally been the house’s living room. It was now some type of community lounge. Two floral print couches flanked a long, low wicker table. The owner had attempted to give the place a nautical ambiance with pictures of tall ships on the wall alongside a clock mounted in a ship’s wheel.

One of the miscreants upstairs had propped the innkeeper’s lifeless body up on one of the couches. A bent cigarette hung wedged between his blue lips. His glasses were on upside down and the arm on one side hung out into empty space over the gaping exit wound in his skull. His pallid, waxy face still had that look of shock on it.

Kyler sat beside the stiff. He picked up a binder off the table. The homemade cover read: FUN THINGS TO DO IN STONE HARBOR. Inside was a collection of ads and brochures for local businesses. He flipped a few pages and found a map of the town. It showed only four roads leading out of town to the rest of the sparsely populated island. That was good. Even better, he saw that the harbor was the only place to land a boat. He could seal this place up tight, even with the losers at his disposal.

He tore out the map and went back to the kitchen. He went to the cupboard and pulled out a mug that said WORLD’S GREATEST GRANDPA on it. He studied the map as he filled the mug with coffee.

He checked his watch. The upstairs crew was due another kick in the ass about now. He grabbed his coffee and went over to the base of the stairs. The assault rifles stood propped in a corner by the door.

“Move it up there! You want to keep Oates waiting?”

Heavy footfalls sounded upstairs. One by one, the men staggered down to the ground floor.

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