[Darkthorn 01.0] Pond Scum by Michael Lilly

Author:Michael Lilly [Lilly, Michael]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781910780800
Amazon: B0784XWXCC
Barnesnoble: B0784XWXCC
Publisher: Vulpine Press
Published: 2018-01-26T07:00:00+00:00

Eighteen

Never has my control of my breath had higher stakes. The voices come closer, closer, but far enough that I’m safe. For now, at least. I hear them go into my dad’s room.

“I’m sure it’s here somewhere. Boss said it’s the last one the kid has, so once we find it, he can have the pigs sniff this place out. Let’s get it and get out. I know this guy was one of ours, but … he was also fuckin’ creepy. You ever meet ’im?”

“Once,” says another voice. “We didn’t shake hands, but I still felt like I had to wash my hands afterward. Have you seen the shit this guy churns out? Fuckin’ demon, for real.”

“Yeah,” agree two or three of them.

I’d been hoping that their being closer to me would help me figure out how many of them there are, but no such luck.

“Honestly, Boss isn’t much better. He was all buddy buddy with this guy. I guess he didn’t do it himself, but he definitely partook in the product that came out of this place. Fuck.” I can almost hear him shaking his head in disgust, which intrigues me; how much of a monster do you have to be to disgust these guys?

Keroth may be more evil than I thought. I entertain the image of him in a cell, and entertain further the image of his fellow inmates ripping him apart. I shake myself back to focus.

“Ah, here it is. Who’s taking care of the guy and the girl? They’re at the station, yeah?”

“I think so. Cross said he’d do it.”

FUCK.

“Good. So what’s the plan for Thorn?”

“Junior or senior?”

“The living one, dipshit.”

“Right. What’d Boss say?”

“We take care of him.”

“But when?” He mocked the whining of a child on a long road trip.

“After he talks to him.”

“Talks?”

Though I had previously identified three distinct voices, this conversation has, thus far, only played host to two of them. They’re fairly typical, though; I feel like I would be unable to identify them, even if I knew them on a casual basis.

“Yeah. I dunno. Monologue, maybe cut him a little. James Bond villain-type bullshit.”

Drawers opening and closing in the bedroom. Either they’re not looking all that hard and haven’t seen the comb yet, or they found it and are conducting a once-over to be sure they didn’t miss anything, which could spell checkmate for me.

“So what, a couple of days?”

“Tops.”

I never got an invitation to this party that I’m supposedly attending. How rude. I’ll have to RSVP regrets.

Judging by the completeness of the darkness in which I sit, I deem that it’s safe to use my cell phone without its little light being detected from outside. After ensuring that it’s on silent, I compose a text to Beth and Todd.

“You still at the station?”

I grip my phone as though an increase in pressure from my hands will squeeze a reply into it.

It works! Beth replies promptly, as usual: “Yeah. We’re almost done. Why?”

“Don’t leave.” My thumb hovers above SEND as a

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