Chapter Eighteen

Chuck pushed past the woman at the door and pulled Heidi inside.

“What are you doing?” the woman screeched. He slammed the door shut, turned the locks and put his back against it. She started to scream.

Heidi snapped at her. “Be quiet!”

There was a loud thump at the door. Chuck flinched. He could feel the impact of something heavy as it hit the wood. He couldn’t tell if it was a shoulder or a fist, but it was clear they wanted in.

“I’m calling the police,” the woman said. Heidi tried to grab her, but she was fast for an older woman. She sprinted down the hall, hand outstretched for the wall phone in the kitchen. Heidi looked to Chuck.

“Let her.”

“Do you want to get arrested?”

“No, but I do want people with guns to get here as fast as they can.”

Outside, there was shouting and the sounds of people rushing about, doors slamming, glass breaking. A window shattered upstairs. The woman yelped in the middle of telling the person on the other end of the line that two people had broken into her house.

“We didn’t break in,” Heidi called down to her. “Your door was open. Didn’t you see that we were being chased?”

The woman stepped out of view, the long cord following her. She was crying now. Chuck hoped she didn’t grab a kitchen knife for protection.

Another whack on the door had Chuck’s heart racing. Sure, he could probably hold off anyone busting through the door, but there were tons of ground-floor windows in the house. How easy would it be for one of them to break the glass and crawl through?

“The police are on their way,” the woman said. “You better not come near me.”

Heidi took a few steps down the hallway. “Lady, can’t you hear that the neighborhood is under attack? We came in here to get away from them.”

“What?” Her head popped into the kitchen doorway.

Another window was broken. It sounded like it came from the house next door. “Aaahhh!” she shrieked.

“See?” Heidi said. “It’s not us you should be worried about.”

“Well then, who’s out there?”

Chuck shot Heidi a warning look. They could not say it was Melon Heads. That would not help their case if the police started questioning why they barged into this woman’s home.

“I…I don’t know,” Heidi replied.

The melee started to subside. Chuck pressed his ear against the door. He caught a few retreating footsteps, and then there was silence. “I think they’re gone.”

Because he couldn’t be one hundred percent sure, he was reluctant to stray from the door.

The woman took a tentative step out of the kitchen. She had a butcher knife in her hand.

“Please be careful with that,” he said.

“Don’t make me have to use it, then.”

“Heidi, it’s probably safer if you stay behind me.”

A floorboard creaked overhead. Everyone froze, their eyes rolling upwards as if they could see through the ceiling.

A window had definitely been broken upstairs. Had one of them gotten inside? Had they staged their little siege and left so Chuck would drop his guard? Again, Chuck grappled with whether or not they were capable of such complex thought and planning.

But there was someone up there.

“Do you live alone?” he asked the woman.

“I’m not telling you.”

When the wood groaned again, the paling of her face told him that she didn’t share her home with anyone else.

“Any pets?” he asked.

She shook her head.

Heidi was behind him, holding on to his arms. “Don’t go up there.”

That was the last thing he wanted to do. But it was also the first thing he felt he had to do.

“What if they’re waiting to find a way to ambush us?”

“Who? Who’s ambushing us?” the woman said.

Chuck ignored her. “I’m just going to take a quick look. I can’t sit here and wait for one of them to attack.”

“I’m coming with you,” Heidi said.

“No, stay here.”

She gave his arms a hard squeeze. “Not a chance. We either both go, or we both stay down here. Your choice.”

What he wanted to do was rush up the stairs and hope to catch the Melon Head when it wasn’t expecting him. He’d hold it (he could only think of them as it) and wait for the police. Then, and only then, could they say it was the Melon Heads. Maybe the authorities could root them all out and in turn eradicate his, Marnie’s and Mick’s death sentences. It was a pipe dream, he knew it, but it gave him a sliver of hope.

Sighing with resignation, he said to Heidi, “Fine. But keep behind me.” He saw the andirons by the fireplace and gave the poker to Heidi. “And take this.” He opted for the shovel. Not as deadly as the poker, but he swung a mean bat and thought he could do some damage with the shovel.

He put his booted foot on the first step, testing to see if it would make a racket. One look at the woman let him know she had no intention of following them upstairs. Her hands were clasped together and pressed to the center of her chest. Her eyes went from suspicious to worried. “Be careful,” she said.

Chuck gave a slow nod.

He crept up the stairs, Heidi always a step behind him. The sudden stillness upstairs seemed to him to come from someone sneaking around who knows they are about to get caught. The stairs were carpeted and made very little noise, but there were enough wood creaks to alert a Melon Head in waiting that they were coming. Pausing at the second to last step, he turned to Heidi and whispered, “Just make sure you don’t hit me with that thing.”

“I won’t.”

Odds were, she would. He couldn’t promise her she wouldn’t catch an errant whack from the shovel. He was shitting bricks right about now. The adrenaline bursting through his system would make him unreliable if they were attacked. That was why he wanted her to stay downstairs.

It was too late now.

They came to a narrow hallway. A small sewing room was to their right. The open door to the bathroom before them revealed pink and black tiles glowing under a nightlight. Down the hall were two other bedrooms, their doors also open. A threadbare carpet runner lined the center of the hallway.

The bathroom and sewing rooms were empty.

Or maybe not. The shower curtain was closed. And there may have been a closet in the sewing room. Perfect places to hide. He pushed Heidi gently back, urging her to stay on the stairs for a moment.

Because the hallway floor had very little padding, the wood creaked as loud as cannon fire. Chuck tensed, bringing the shovel over his shoulder, expecting a Melon Head to come rushing at him. He waited a full minute before exhaling. His next step made just as much noise, but he was resigned to having given up any shred of stealth.

Using the shovel, he yanked the shower curtain to the side. Nothing but bottles of shampoo and conditioner jammed into the four corners of the tub. The spout released a drop of water that echoed in the tiny room.

A pop of wood behind him had Chuck spinning. Heidi was heading into the sewing room.

“Heidi, wait,” he whispered.

She held the poker straight out like a lance. If anyone ran to attack her, they might impale themselves in the gloom of the second floor. Chuck tried to edge around her to get into the room first, but she didn’t give him an inch. Inside were a sewing machine, a wide bench and plastic drawers filled with sewing supplies. A set of curtains was draped over a drying rack. To the right of the entrance was a closet. Chuck put his finger to his lips and a hand on her shoulder. They waited, Chuck straining to see if he could hear someone breathing or shuffling in the closet. When he thought they were safe, he reached around Heidi, turned the knob and flung the door open. She charged into the closet with the poker, managing to stab a raincoat.

“Oh, Jeez,” she said, shoulders sagging.

“Two down, two to go.”

“I don’t know how much more my heart can take.”

He’d been thinking the same thing. His gaze drifted past the light coming up the stairs. He desperately wanted to be down there, bathed in light, waiting for the cavalry to arrive. Talking his way out of their jam was a bridge he’d cross later.

Feeling better that he was in front of Heidi again, he decided what the hell, why not go on the offense and try for a little surprise. He ran into the second bedroom, his footfalls sounding like thunder, Heidi’s much lighter footsteps like the patter of rain on a cabin roof. He flicked the light on and scanned the room. A daybed was tucked in the corner. Chuck dropped to his hands and knees and peered under it. Nothing. Heidi had the closet open and was swinging the poker back and forth, knocking clothes off hangers.

They were both breathing heavily, as if they had just run a mile uphill.

“Clear,” Heidi said.

“No monsters under the bed,” Chuck joked. Heidi didn’t so much as smile.

That left what he assumed was the master bedroom at the end of the hall.

He stepped into the hallway. The bedroom was pitch black.

Just great.

A police siren blared. It sounded like it was coming closer. Chuck was running out of time.

He spied the light switch on the wall and motioned with his head for Heidi to flip it. A dim, yellow light flared overhead, filling the room and hallway in jaundice.

Red and white flashing lights bled in through the window at the top of the stairs.

“Looks like the cavalry is here,” Chuck said.

“Maybe we should go downstairs.”

“You go. I just need to check this last room.”

Now he could see the broken window in the bedroom. The curtain billowed as a breeze wafted through the shattered glass. Chuck adjusted his grip on the shovel and took a deep breath.

The sound of springs zinging filled his ears. He was hit on the back of his shoulders hard enough to drop him to the ground, the shovel falling from his grip.

Heidi screamed.

Chuck turned around, the instant ache in his shoulders warning him that something might be broken.

A Melon Head ran down the attic steps from the trapdoor in the hallway ceiling. Its eyes were as big as eggs and spread too far apart to be able to see straight. Its large head was dented on one side and bald as a cue ball. One knobby ear was set high on the side of its head, the other, this one small and round, markedly lower. Everything about its face was off, including what appeared to be two rows of crooked teeth set in an angrily red mouth.

The unfolded attic steps kept it from reaching Heidi. Instead, it stomped on Chuck’s chest. His shoulder bounced off the wood floor, the pain sending flashes of white sparking into his vision and sizzling his brain. He felt the Melon Head grab the front of his shirt and lift him from the floor. Chuck brought his knee up, catching the Melon Head right where its balls should be. The creature didn’t even react.

Holy shit, it’s a girl!

There was nothing in that face or body that delineated the Melon Head as feminine. No, it was one hundred per cent monster.

It punched him in the jaw. Chuck felt a tooth rattle loose. He blocked the next blow with his forearm. The Melon Head dropped to a knee on Chuck’s stomach, knocking the wind out of him. Chuck fought against the pain and lack of oxygen, knowing his life depended on it. Slender fingers that may have been forged from steel savagely twisted his ear and grabbed hold of his nose. He could hear cartilage starting to tear in the center of his brain.

Chuck lashed out, getting a grip on the Melon Head’s large ear. He gave it a rough yank and the ear pulled free. Hot blood splashed down on his arm and hand. The Melon Head didn’t so much as whimper, but it did let go of his nose and ear, only to rain punches down on his face and chest. Chuck threw his arms up, deflecting some but not enough.

There was a heavy thump, and the punching stopped. Chuck looked up and saw Heidi beating at the Melon Head’s side with the poker.

“Stab her!” he shouted.

Heidi pulled the poker back and thrust it forward. The Melon Head sprang off Chuck’s body, narrowly missing a skewering. It backhanded Heidi and sent her spinning into the wall. It grabbed Chuck by the hair and started pulling him into the bedroom.

“No!” Heidi shouted. She swung the poker violently. The tip became buried in the plaster wall. She tugged and tugged but couldn’t get it out.

The Melon Head dropped to its haunches, opened its mouth wide and looked like it was about to chew Chuck’s face off. Foul-smelling saliva baptized his face, slipped onto his tongue. Heidi let go of the poker and emitted a raw, animal scream.

The house reverberated with the clomping of rushing feet. The Melon Head stood up straight and stared down the hall. Heidi was thrown to the side when she tried to tackle the Melon Head.

“Police!” a voice shouted.

“In here,” Chuck cried weakly.

The Melon Head swiped its severed ear from the floor, turned and jumped through the broken window. Chuck heard it scrambling down the roof over the porch. A second later, the room was filled with police, their guns drawn. Heidi draped herself over Chuck. “Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot!”

Her body weight pushed down on Chuck’s ruined shoulder. This time, he let the pain take him away.