Night Terrors by Drew Williams

Author:Drew Williams
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

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Chapter Fourteen: June 29--continued

Gary could hear two things very distinctly as he sat in Steve's office; the slow hum of the oscillating fan that did little to circulate the humid air, and his pulse pounding in his left temple. He paid the fan little attention as he massaged the side of his head and tried to come to grips with what happened to him at the Espy house.

Sure he was scared when he went down the basement steps. It was dark and the place smelled like shit. And the flies, that was the worst. God, Gary thought, there had to be a million of them. Anybody in their right mind would have been scared. Then there were the baseball cards. Thousands of them with Nathan Espy's face. All blinded. That alone was enough to freak a person out.

Gary began pacing about the small office. He desperately needed to talk to Steve. He had to tell him what he saw in Espy's basement. He had to make Steve understand that there was something down there. Some unnatural thing, hiding, waiting for them to come down those steps. Gary stepped over to the window. Resting his large arms on the chest-high sill, he looked into the courtyard at the statue of Kennedy. "You've got to get a hold of yourself," Gary said out loud. "You've got to calm down." At least his job was secure. Steve had taken care to protect that. His partner had taken care of him just like he'd always done.

just like ol' Uncle Joe took care of you

Gary shuddered. Why after all these years had the memory of his abusive uncle come back to haunt him? Why now had the dreams of Uncle Joe's thick hands and sour breath returned? But Gary knew the answer to that one. Uncle Joe never really went away. Even after years of therapy and counseling, Uncle Joe's memory could never be completely erased. It was always there, just like Uncle Joe himself. Hiding, waiting for the right opportunity to play the "feel game." Gary understood the way things worked a long time ago. There's no way to get rid of Uncle Joe once he has you. After all, Uncle Joe was family.

Best not to think of it, Gary decided. Instead he focused on the statue of Kennedy, Steve's hero. For a few moments he was able to admire the detail and craftsmanship of the statue, then his mind slammed shut and his mouth flew open. What should have been a full-throated scream emerged as a weak gasp. Gary stood paralyzed, his breath trapped in his lungs, his fingers digging into the windowsill.

Kennedy's index finger, which normally pointed westward, was now aimed at the window and Gary. It wiggled from side to side as if scolding the detective.

Gary remained motionless as the twelve-foot bronze figure twisted its torso and took a jerking step forward. The sound of metal against metal was deafening, and for a second, the statue looked as if it would teeter off balance, but it quickly righted itself.

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