WEDNESDAY, 5:30 P.M.
They were sitting at a big, round table in the café. Each of them leaned in toward the center.
“The door was unlocked,” Dad whispered. “That’s how we got in. Who knows how long the house had been open to anyone who tried the front door?”
“Or how long ago those footprints were made,” Mom added.
“Mom,” Xander said, “they were fresh. There was no dust in them, just bare wood.”
“They were so big,” David said.
“It was Bigfoot,” Toria said, with a hint of danger.
“Toria,” Xander said.
“Well, it was somebody with really big feet,” Mom said, “but I don’t think it was Bigfoot, honey. Not the Bigfoot.”
“But he lives here,” Toria said. “I read about it.”
“Bigfoot’s not real,” David said.
“Is too.”
“Okay, okay. Whether it was a guy with big feet or it was Bigfoot, doesn’t really matter, I don’t want him in my house.
So, listen . . .”
The waitress stepped up behind Toria. She smiled inquisitively, taking in their conspiratorial postures. “Ya ready?”
Dad smiled apologetically. “Not yet. But how about waters all around?”
“Gotcha,” she said and wandered away.
All faces turned back to Dad.
He said, “Tomorrow we all go over there and start cleaning.
Xander and I will go through the whole house. Basement to attic. We’ll see if anybody’s there.”
Toria inhaled sharply and covered her mouth. A bit melodramatic, Xander thought, but that was Toria.
“Or if there are ways to get in we don’t know about,”
Dad said.
David said, “I want to search too.”
Dad shook his head. “I don’t think—”
Xander touched Dad’s arm and said, “He can do it.”
Dad studied Xander’s face. Maybe he was trying to gauge whether Xander was sticking up for his brother because he thought David could handle it, or because he was going to use the opportunity to somehow scare Dae. Whatever he saw in Xander’s eyes, he seemed to appreciate it. He nodded, said, “Okay. It’ll be the King boys then.”
David smiled. “And may God have mercy on anyone we find . . .”
“Because we won’t!” Xander finished.
THURSDAY, 10:49 P.M.
The flashlight beams pushed away the inky blackness of the basement. The walls and floor were stone. Cobwebs and spider-webs everywhere. David pointed out that he heard the squeaking of rodents and the click of their claws on the stone. “I don’t like this,” he said.
“No kidding,” Xander said.
Dad said, “We’ll just take a walk around. See if there’s anything obvious. We don’t have to move things around, or anything.”
What they had seen so far was a basement full of wooden crates, loose lumber, and cardboard boxes that had mostly rotted away, spilling their contents of old clothes, dishes, and record albums onto the floor. The electricity was supposed to have been turned on, but it hadn’t been when Dad last checked. It was impossible to tell how large the basement was. Their lights did not go far, and the area was divided by stone walls that seemed to Xander to be haphazardly placed. If it occupied the same square footage as the first floor, it would be big enough to install an Olympic-sized pool or maybe a couple bowling alleys.
“So what are we looking for?” David asked.
Dad said, “Evidence that someone is squatting down here.”
“Squatting? Gross,” David said.
Xander laughed.
“It means living somewhere you’re not supposed to,” Dad explained.
“Or doing something you’re not supposed to,” David said.
This time they all laughed. Their voices seemed to cut away some of the gloom. It made the search less creepy.
Their flashlights came upon a wood-plank door. Xander and David looked to Dad.
“Let’s check all the rooms. Keep your eyes open for doors or recesses that might lead to a sub-basement or root cellar or to the outside.”
“This is like a video game,” David said.
“It’s like And Then There Were None,” Xander corrected. “That’s where all these people are stuck in a house and they’re-”
“That’s enough, Xander,” Dad said.
They stood with their flashlights on the door. No one moved. If Xander were directing this, he would have a camera approaching them from behind while they weren’t looking. He spun around, panning the light back and forth.
“What?” David said, a little too shrill.
“Nothing. Thought I heard something.”
No one moved toward the door. Xander said, “Dad?”
“All right.” He moved to the door. Xander’s heart leaped as a black figure sprung up in front of Dad. Then he realized it was Dad’s shadow. Xander’s and David’s flashlights had created it. Dad pulled open the door. Its hinges squealed like a rat caught in a trap.
“And don’t scare us,” David said in a loud whisper.
Dad’s light moved around the room, then he stepped back. He shut the door. “Nothing,” he said. “And how about this . . .” He used his finger to draw a big cartoon face in the dust on the door. the figure’s name was “Bob,” and Dad had been drawing him since he’d been a kid. Bob was the family’s unofficial mascot.
When he finished, Dad smiled and nodded. “There. Now we’ve marked this area as ours.”
“I can think of another way to mark our territory,” Xander said.
“Hey,” Dad said. “None of that.”
Together they moved through the basement, checking rooms and corners. They saw lots of spiders and rat poop, dust and dirt, but no people or indications that someone had ever lived down there. When the stairs came back around, Xander sighed with relief.
“What do the cops say?” Dad asked.
“Clear!” Xander called.
“All right, then,” Dad said. “Onward and upward.” He climbed the stairs, clicking his flashlight off as he neared the open door at the top.
“No squatters,” Xander said, making the word sound as gross as he could.
David smiled and started up the stairs. “So what about And Then There Were None?” he said.
Xander thought again of the camera moving in the darkness toward him, and he bolted up the stairs right into David’s back. “I’ll tell you later. Just hurry it up.”