Buffy the Vampire Slayer - Buffy Season4 02 by The Lost Slayer 02 Dark Times # Christopher Golden

Author:The Lost Slayer 02 Dark Times # Christopher Golden
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2012-06-30T13:53:04+00:00

Chapter 4

The houses on Redwood Lane reminded Buffy painfully of the neighborhood where she had lived during high school. Perfectly groomed lawns, a smattering of trees—though none of them redwoods—and a minivan or SUV in every driveway. She had abandoned the Mercedes three blocks away, and as she skulked along from house to house, it unnerved her how silent they were. No loud voices, no radios. The few lights inside barely showed through the curtains and shades drawn across every window.

Six miles from the center of town, and still no one dared breathe loud enough to attract the vampires’

attention.

Halfway down the block, Buffy paused in front of an imposing Spanish-style house, and put her back against the stucco just beside a side window. From within, she could just barely hear a television set. In the driveway sat a Volvo sedan, maybe three or four years old. She hesitated only for a moment. Then she slipped around the back of the house and across the patio to the rear door. A heavy wooden door, not a glass slider. That was good. Less noise. Buffy kicked the door open and the three locks on it splintered the frame with a tearing of wood. It crashed open, the sound echoing out into the night. She only hoped that, locked up tight in their homes, no one would hear it.

“Oh God, no!” someone cried within the house.

Buffy rushed through the kitchen and into the living room where a haggard looking couple in their late forties cowered in a corner by the television set.

“How… we didn’t invite you in!” the man shouted, panicked. They thought she was a vampire.

“No,” Buffy said, both hands up as she approached them. “Just sit tight, right there, and I won’t hurt you. I swear I won’t. Cooperate, and maybe I can even get you out of here.” They stared at her as though she were mad.

“Where’s the phone?”

“What do you mean out of here? You’re not trying to leave, are you?” the woman said, horrified.

“You want to stay?” Buffy asked. “Where’s the phone?”

“On the wall in the kitchen,” the man said. “You passed right by it. But please don’t talk to anyone like this on our phone. They’ll hear you. They’ll think we’re involved.” Buffy had already started back toward the kitchen, but paused at his words. She turned to stare at him again.

“What do you mean ‘they’ll hear’?”

“They listen,” the woman replied.

With a sigh, Buffy shook her head. “Of course they do. Can’t have anybody spilling the blood-soaked beans, now, can we? Still, they can’t listen to every phone twenty-four hours a day. They’ve got you scared ‘cause you never know when they’re listening.

“Look, it doesn’t matter anyway. We’ll be gone by the time anyone can get here.” She regarded them closely. “I’m Buffy. What are your names?”

The couple exchanged a tired, frightened glance. The woman stood up first, followed by her husband, but they kept their distance.

“I’m Nadine Ross. This is my husband Andrew.”

“Nice to meet you. Sorry about the door.

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