The glares of Clint’s friends bored holes through him, their unvoiced accusations ringing in his ears, as they kept their distance from him.
Clint rolled his eyes and kicked with his shoe-less foot at nothing on the floor. “Dudes, when I jumped through the window, I hit my shoe on the pane and it got knocked off. So stop looking at me like that, jack-offs!”
His words were met by steely stares and quiet.
He walked past them, seeing them take nervous steps backward to avoid him. He pretended to stumble, and fell forward, his hands reaching out in Reid’s direction. Reid dodged to the side to avoid contact. But that action didn’t solidify Clint’s worries about his friends’ fears. Reid was a dick and would’ve done that just for fun to see if Clint would fall or not. No, it was the fear that flashed in his eyes. And then it was gone. Can I blame them, really?
Trying to block out his friends’ unease toward him, he marched forward. They were in a short hallway, perhaps ten feet long, at most. At the far end of it was a door. But not a normal door. It was only four feet tall, and instead of a doorknob it had a metal latched handle. The walls were covered in old dark blue wallpaper which appeared to be peeling away in some parts. It looked familiar, but Clint couldn’t place it. He’d been here before, hadn’t he? The floor was covered in a thin, cheap pale-gray carpet with well-worn footprints beaten into it. The fabric stained and worn to the floor in some places.
“This looks like that weird hatch to your attic, Reid.” Clint pointed. “And your floor?”
“Yeah, it does.” Reid crossed his arms and his body stiffened. “I don’t think we should go in there.”
“What other choice do we have?” Heather stepped forward, reaching for the handle.
Alex stepped in front of her and put a hand up. “Wait. Think about it, guys. In every single room, it seems like we’ve done exactly what this house wanted us to do, played right into its plan. Maybe we shouldn’t go through that door.”
“What other option do we have?” Clint said, the rift between them growing more evident by the second, as all his friends stood as one, opposite him.
Alex shrugged. “Let’s stay right here and not go through that door. At least until we think of a better option.”
They all sat down where they’d stood, Alex with his back to the little door, his sister in front of him, Reid to her side, and Clint a few paces from the rest.
“Your hand is pretty cut up,” Heather said to Reid. “You need to wrap it. Alex, help me. Tear off some of my shirtsleeve.”
Alex pulled and yanked at her shirt. It was a lot easier in the movies. He struggled, then finally got it to rip and handed the shred to his sister.
“Gimme your hand,” Heather said.
She took Reid’s bloodied hand and gently wrapped her shirt-shreds around and around, covering all the nicks and cuts as Reid winced and grunted. Once satisfied, she tucked the end of it under and looked at her handiwork.
“I think that should do it.”
A nod was all the thanks Reid gave her.
Everyone grew silent. Worry and indecision hung heavy in the air.
Heather’s voice was gentler than normal. “I know it sounds a bit silly, but I keep hearing Mom’s voice in my head. She’d want us to pray. ‘Pray keeps the devil at bay’, she’d say. Can we try?”
Clint had never prayed a day in his life. He didn’t believe in any of it. He believed in the God called money, to which his father was a slave, but not some guy in the sky, all-knowing, all-seeing being. No way. As far as he and his father were concerned, money was what made the world go round and made people do what they did, not some invisible man up above. But he wasn’t about to alienate himself from the group even more.
Small nods were issued forth in agreement. Heather scooted to the side of her brother and reached for Alex and Reid’s hands. They took hers, but stopped before grabbing Clint’s.
With his hands reached out to his friends, Clint’s eyes grew large as they did not reach back. “Guys, I’m not infected! My shoe fell off when I came through the window. That thing didn’t touch me!”
Reid shook his head. “It’s not that. I just don’t wanna hold another guy’s hand. It’s sorta gay.” He looked to Alex. “Do you?”
“Nah, me neither,” Alex said.
Heather let out a huff and shook both their hands away. “Never mind, then. It was a stupid idea anyway.” She crossed her arms. “Jerks.”
It was a stupid idea. Clint was both relieved he didn’t have to fake pray and disheartened that his friends were keeping their distance. Absentmindedly, he began touching his shoe-less foot. He stopped when he realized Reid was staring at him.
“What?” He pulled his sock up higher.
Reid squinted and tilted his head. “What, what?”
“I dunno.” Clint shrugged. Then he reached down and yanked off his other shoe. “Feels weird to just wear one.” He flung it at the wall where the window had been.
The wall shuddered and momentarily gave in where the shoe had hit. Then it was normal again.
“You see that shit?” Clint asked. “That just happened, right?”
The hair on his arms stood up. Goosebumps ran wild over his body, pricking from the back of his neck to his calves. He shivered.
Everyone was on their feet now, staring at the spot the shoe had hit the wall.
“It bent and moved,” Heather whispered. “Like a funhouse,” her voice grew smaller, “except not fun.”
The shoe lay motionless on the floor, about six inches from the wall.
Everyone was still.
And then something else happened. The wall bent out forward, like something or someone, or a mass of bodies reached out from the other side. Hands of all shapes and sizes pushed out towards them and then stopped. Tiny fingers, long fingers, palms splayed out, knuckles kneading at the malleable wall, moving it forward. Soon, the shoe rested against the wall which was now much closer than before.
“It’s just trying to scare us to make us go through that little hatch door,” Alex said. “Just stay still.”
He stood firm, and the others followed suit. Clint was shocked to see Alex remain so calm. Hands just reached out from inside the wall, for Christ’s sake.
Clint rubbed at his eyes and waited for something to happen. He began to wonder if what he’d seen had really happened at all. Then the wall reached out again, even closer this time. Fingernails—or were those claws—pushed and threatened to break through. When it stopped, only the toe part of the shoe was still in sight. The rest had been swallowed up.
“I dunno. I’m wicked scared.” Heather reached out for her brother’s hand.
He grabbed it and squeezed.
Once again, the wall moved closer, eliminating another half-foot of space and shrinking the already small hallway. The sound of wings beat from somewhere inside the wall with all those hands and fingers.
Flap, flap. Scratch, scratch.
Clint imagined an awful scene from that famous movie where the birds went crazy and tried to shred people alive. Clint shivered. I don’t think those are birds.
The wall moved closer. And closer still. Nowhere to go.
A clicking sound came from behind, and they all swung around to see. The hatch door sat open a few inches, where it had been closed only moments before.
“Keep an eye on that door!” Reid shouted.
“What about the wall?” Clint asked. His breathing was getting shallower. He blinked furiously as his peripheral vision shut down. Not now, not here. He panted.
“Alex and Heather, you watch that door,” Reid said, “and Clint and I will watch the wall.”
Clint turned to Reid and nodded.
“Stay with me, man. Don’t freak out. I need your help.” Reid looked Clint in the eyes and nodded slowly. “You got this.”
Reid’s focus and determination pulled Clint out of the panic attack. He swallowed his fear and stared down the wall, feeling a renewed sense of bravery.
Clint turned to face the wall, and gasped, losing all his newly achieved boldness. While he’d been focused on staying calm, the hallway behind them had closed in. Only four feet of hallway stood between wall and door. He backed up and bumped into Alex, who jumped back, brushing off the invisible cooties Clint had left on him. Heather stared at her brother, wide-eyed, fearful. Clint tried not to let it get to him. Not now. Hopefully there’d be time for him to criticize them later. He wanted to hold it all back, but it welled up inside. Pissed him the fuck off.
He reached out and touched Heather with one hand and Reid with the other. “There! Now you’ve all touched me. I told you I didn’t get infected by that thing, but none of you believed me and you’re acting like a bunch of bitches. Believe me or not, but we’re all in it together now.”
“It’s not like you’re big on telling the truth,” Heather said. “You’re the biggest liar of the bunch.”
“Yes, I am. But I’m not lying now. I swear.”
Reid’s lip pursed in anger. “If you just infected us—”
Clint groaned. “Then we’re all dead. Dag, man, get over it. We’ve got bigger shit to deal with right now.” He pointed to the wall. “Who even knows what this infection is or how we get it? The creature touched Danny and then he got sick. That doesn’t mean we can’t touch each other without getting it, too. And for the last fucking time, I’m not infected!” Dumb shits. He shifted his gaze from them to the wall.
The window was back. Broken, the way they’d come through it. The wall wasn’t moving any longer, either. Everything remained as normal as it could, like it had never moved at all.
Reid stepped closer to the window and peered inside the room they’d left behind. He shrunk back. “It’s either the window or that door. We won’t have any hallway left soon.”
Clint could only imagine what Reid had seen. Danny’s ashy, crisp body lying there, waiting for them. He closed his eyes at the thought of it, but that only made the images clearer in his mind. Reid’s suggestion terrified him. The last thing he wanted was to see his best friend, or what remained of him, in that state again. He wanted to remember Danny the way he was in life. In life. Danny’s dead. Clint choked down the beginnings of a sob.
“I don’t wanna…” Heather shook her head. “I can’t go back in there…see him or that thing.”
Alex dropped his head. “Then we move forward again.”
“Through the hatch?” Reid said. “I don’t think we should.”
Clint panicked at the idea of seeing Danny’s body again. “We can’t. We can’t. I won’t go back in there. He’s in there. Dead.”
He bent forward, tucking his head as far down as he could go. Catch my breath. His knees shook with each uneven breath.
“Okay, we won’t,” Reid said. “We can’t. You’re right, Clint. Calm down.”
Then a voice came from the room they’d left behind. It was Danny’s voice, Clint was sure of it, but knew it couldn’t be.
“Mom? Mom? Where are you? I can’t see anything.”
Impossible.
Clint’s heart leapt, and he darted to the window and leaned his head through. “Danny? Danny, is that you?”
He looked about, but saw no movement. No proof of Danny but the burned ruin still on the bed. He stared at in horror, waiting for it to move. He pictured Danny’s crispy lips opening and moving, calling out to his mother. He imagined his burned claw of a hand, reaching out for someone to hold it. Someone to help him. Someone like his best friend. I let my best friend burn.
Clint stared, unblinking, trying to focus to see. But the body didn’t move. Not the lips or any other part of him. Danny was dead.
Danny is dead.
But his voice still floated through the room. “Mom? Mom, I’m scared.” Light sobs trailed behind his words.
Clint pulled his head back through the window and clutched his ears to block out the sound. “We can’t go back. We can’t go back in there. God, make it stop.” Tears fell from Clint’s eyes.
For the first time in his life, he hoped there was a God, someone to comfort poor Danny, to take him from this awful place and help him and his remaining friends out of this horror. He hoped and said a silent prayer to that invisible man in the sky, but deep inside, he knew they were all alone.
He moved forward to the little door and flung it open with his foot, keeping his hands over his ears. He never turned to see if the others were following as he ducked through.