Chapter Twenty-One

Heidi heard the desperation in Chuck’s voice and was compelled to go to him. He said he needed something but wanted to ask her in person. She was worried that he was taking Marnie’s suggestion that he leave town with her. She was also concerned that if he stayed in Milbury, something horrible would happen to him. Something already had, but at least he was still alive.

She checked herself in the mirror and went to the closet. She reached inside blindly and pulled out her old leather jacket, the one with the fringes on the sleeves. She’d found it at a consignment store a couple of years ago. There was a time, when she was around ten, where the only thing in the world she wanted was a fringed leather jacket. She wanted to look like Jon Bon Jovi, the coolest and sexiest guy on the planet – at least at the time. But jackets like that didn’t come cheap and her parents didn’t see the point in buying an expensive novelty jacket for a girl who would outgrow it within a year, both emotionally and physically.

Now you could get one for ten bucks as former metalheads ditched their leather for what Heidi called used-dads clothes. It wasn’t exactly glamorous, though it did take the pressure off trying to achieve some impossible standard of beauty.

Heidi’s car was perilously low on gas. She didn’t think she’d be able to make it to his house and back. The last time she’d gone to the gas station, Marnie helped her reach under the seat cushions to find any spare change to get even a few drops of gas in the tank.

Dusk would be coming soon. The thought of riding her bike terrified her for good reason. Chuck could drive her back when night had fallen. It gave her small comfort as she rolled her bike out of the driveway. She propped it on its kickstand and ran to the shed in the backyard. She found her father’s old, partially rusty sickle and stuffed the handle in her back pocket. Ever since he’d ditched his push mower for the gas mower, he’d had no use for the sickle. She hoped she wouldn’t, either.

“Where are you going?”

Her mother startled her. A tickling breeze fluffed the bangs from Heidi’s face.

Heidi froze. She knew if she told the truth, her mother would forbid her to go. Lightning, in her estimation, could strike twice. She quickly made up a lie. “I just need to go to Sammy’s to copy some notes.”

Sammy and Heidi were close as friends could be when they were in grammar school. Now they circled in separate orbits, maintaining an acquaintanceship that was limited to hellos and head nods whenever they ran into one another. Sammy was a brainiac who still had posters of New Kids on the Block on her bedroom walls. Heidi knew her mother would approve of her going to Sammy the dork.

“I don’t want you gone long. In fact, why don’t I drive you?”

That wouldn’t do. Heidi said, “She’s only two blocks away.”

Her mother took another step down from the porch. “It’s getting late. I worry about you.”

Heidi rolled her eyes the way she normally would when her mother said something sappy, only this time she appreciated it more than she’d ever let on.

“How about I ask her father to drive me back?”

She smiled. “That makes me feel better. Or I can pick you up. Your father called and said he’d be late.”

“Sammy’s dad has that pickup truck. I can just toss the bike in the back.” She took her mother’s hand. “Trust me, I’ll be fine. I promise I will not ride my bike alone at night.” She wouldn’t even ride her bike with a gang at night. She was swallowing a ton of fear just to pedal to Chuck’s.

Her mother pulled her close and kissed the top of her head. Ever since Heidi’s run-in with ‘the wilding gang’, her mother had been extra affectionate. Kisses and hugs, gestures that had faded as Heidi sped through adolescence, were doled out whenever she walked by her mom. She’d say the opposite if she were ever put on the witness stand, but she loved the added attention.

“Just be safe.”

“I will.”

Heidi reached behind her back and made sure her jacket covered the sickle. She hopped on her bike and headed off, turning once to wave goodbye. Her mother stayed on the step, watching her go, until Heidi couldn’t see that far anymore.

The streets were busier than usual as parents came home from work. Heidi had to swerve twice to avoid being clipped by a car pulling into a driveway. She passed twin girls playing hopscotch on the sidewalk. Heidi wished she could be that young again. Things were so much easier when she was young, even though all she wanted to do at that age was grow older. Chuck’s house was five more blocks away. She pedaled harder, anxious to get there before the first streetlights started to flicker on. Her eyes were in constant motion, searching for something or someone that didn’t belong. The question was, if she saw a Melon Head, would she continue on to Chuck’s or turn around and try to make the longer trip back to her house?

She worried needlessly, and cruised into Chuck’s driveway at the same time as his parents were pulling up.

“Hey, Heidi,” Chuck’s father said when he got out of the car. He opened the back door to grab several shopping bags. “You came just in time.”

She leaned her bike against the house and paused, confused.

Chuck’s mother emerged and smiled, slipping her pocketbook over her shoulder. “He means for dinner. I’m making ritzy chicken. It’s to die for.”

“And at your age, you don’t have to worry about it clogging your arteries,” Chuck’s father said.

“Your arteries are just fine.” Chuck’s mother playfully swatted her husband’s back as he hustled past her with the groceries. Turning to Heidi, she said, “Chuck will be happy to see you. Come on in.”

“Th-thanks,” Heidi replied, a little out of breath and sweating more than she should. It felt as if she’d biked for ten miles, not ten blocks.

As soon as they walked in the door, his mother called up the stairs, “Chuck! Heidi’s here!” She patted Heidi on the arm. “You like mashed or baked potatoes?”

Waltzing into this slice of normalcy was disorienting. For a second, Heidi didn’t even know what a potato was. She quickly regained her balance and said, “Mashed is cool.”

“Then mashed it shall be. Might as well go up. I bet he fell asleep.”

It was impossible not to see the delight in Chuck’s parents’ faces. They’d been getting all doe-eyed every time she was around since the incident with the Melon Heads. Chuck had explained to her that it was their hope he and Heidi would get closer and drift away from Mick, Vent and Marnie. That might have been part of it, but she was pretty sure there was another side to that story.

She went upstairs and knocked on Chuck’s door. When he didn’t answer, her heart caught in her throat. They had just talked on the phone. He sounded tired and nervous. Why wasn’t he answering? His mother’s high-pitched voice alone should have woken him up. Had something happened to him? Her hand trembled as she reached out for the doorknob. She knocked again.

“Chuck?”

Thank god the door didn’t open with an old-time horror movie creak. Before her was his unmade bed, a stack of books on his desk, posters of Hole, Screaming Trees and Mudhoney papering his walls. But there was no Chuck. His window was wide open. Heidi rushed across the room and looked down, terrified that he had accidentally fallen – or worse. She looked down into the rose bushes on the side of the house.

“Chuck, where are you?”

The sound of footsteps above her made her flinch. Her first instinct was to run downstairs into the sounds of normal domesticity. She could clearly hear his parents talking, cabinet doors opening and closing, pots and pans clanging. The radio was on, tuned to an oldies station. ‘Duke of Earl’ was playing.

She backed away from the window.

Whump.

A floorboard groaned.

A flashback to what had happened at that woman’s house (they later learned her name was Miriam Acosta, a recent widow with a heart problem she talked on and on about to the police) froze her in place. The steady whoosh of blood rushing in her ears threatened to drown out all other sound.

Feet shuffled overhead.

Run! I have to run!

Heidi bolted for the door just as someone was hustling down what sounded like a set of stairs in another room.

She turned toward the hallway and crashed face-first into something soft yet hard. Heidi screamed.

“Holy crap, what’s wrong?”

Chuck’s panicked voice managed to subdue her own flight of fear. Her nose throbbed where she’d slammed it into his chest. “Oh my god, it was you.”

“You kids all right up there?” Chuck’s father said.

Heidi’s heart was still fluttering, making it hard to sound nonchalant. “I’m fine. I saw a spider and freaked out.”

Chuck gave her a conspiratorial wink.

“No need to be afraid of spiders. It’s the six-inch millipedes that should worry you,” his father replied.

Chuck shook his head. “He’s kidding.”

They listened to his father walk back into the kitchen. He sang along, badly, with Dion to ‘The Wanderer’.

Heidi and Chuck went back into his room. He gently closed the door.

“Were you trying to give me a heart attack?” she said, settling into his chair. He took the corner of his bed, the other end of the mattress lifting.

“I was in the attic looking for stuff.”

“I thought…I thought….”

“I figured.” He scratched at his arm under the sling. “You want me to get you a Coke or something?”

“No, I’m good. I think. What were you looking for?”

He turned on his boom box just loud enough to cover their voices. The tape warbled for a bit, making Chris Cornell sound like he was singing underwater. “I need to find stuff to pawn. Stuff my parents won’t miss.”

“Please don’t tell me you’re taking off with Marnie.” Heidi’s stomach dropped.

“Nah. I just need to get away for even a night and just smoke a little and sleep. I’m so tired, I’m starting to get delirious. I can’t afford to be delirious now. I was hoping there’d be some old jewelry box from my grandmother or an antique I could pawn for a while. Leave it to my parents to fill an attic with junk. You think anyone would give me cash for some dusty old Christmas ornaments?”

Heidi sagged into the chair’s back with relief. “Highly doubtful.”

“That’s what I was afraid of.”

“I can lend you the money.”

“I’ll find a way. Thanks for coming over. I just needed to see—”

He was cut off by the kerrang of a pot hitting the floor downstairs.

Heidi smiled. “Your parents invited me to stay. She said she’s making ritzy chicken. What the heck is that, anyway?”

Chuck pulled his hand over his face and tugged on his beard. “Take a chicken cutlet and simmer it in butter and cheese. It looks like a mess, but I swear, it’s good.”

“Sounds delicious. Hey, you mind giving me a ride back to my house later?”

“I wouldn’t let you take your bike back in a million years.”

A dish broke downstairs.

“What the hell are they doing down there?” Chuck said. He leaned his body toward the door.

Something smashed against a wall. The radio went silent. Chuck bolted upright and put his hand on the doorknob. Heidi was up, too, and a step behind him. “What is it?”

Thump-thump-thump. It sounded like someone body-slamming the walls. Chuck paled. Heidi swallowed hard, her throat so dry, it hurt.

“Hand me that bat,” Chuck said, motioning toward the scuffed Louisville Slugger beside his bed.

He tucked the bat under his good arm and opened the door. Heidi couldn’t help thinking how much protection a one-armed person with a baseball bat could offer. She scanned the room for anything that could be used as a weapon, settled on an X-Acto knife and flicked off the plastic cap.

What sounded like a muffled cry set Chuck’s legs in motion. He bounded heedlessly down the stairs with the bat held over his shoulder. Heidi tried to keep up with him, mentally urging him to slow the hell down and not get them killed. When he stopped suddenly in the kitchen doorway, Heidi ran into him, nearly plunging the X-Acto knife in his back.

What she saw was a horror she could never have prepared herself for.

Chuck’s father was on his back on the floor. His throat had been ripped out, revealing a raw, ragged, red hole that bubbled and pulsed with free-flowing blood. The chunk of flesh that had been there moments before sat in a quivering pile on the counter, next to the pack of raw chicken. His right leg trembled with a seizure or death spasm, Heidi couldn’t be sure.

“You motherfuckers,” Chuck growled.

His mother was in the clutches of two Melon Heads. One had its hand over her mouth. The other had her by the waist and was picking at her blouse, ripping buttons off with its long, dirt-encrusted fingernails. Her eyes rolled wildly in their sockets. She saw Chuck and tried to scream, but her cries were cut off by the pale, bony hand over her mouth.

The Melon Heads looked like twins. Neither had a wisp of hair on their heads. They had strange knobs on their skulls, like stumps of horns that had been shaved off. Drool hung in milky ropes from their chapped lips. She saw nothing remotely human in their charcoal eyes.

“Mom!”

Chuck swung the bat clumsily at one of the Melon Heads. It was quicker than him, rolling to its left and using his mother as a shield. The bat socked her in the elbow with a sickening crunch. Her eyes scrunched up and tears sprang from their corners.

Heidi was on the verge of hyperventilating. It was too much to bear. She spun around, lashing out with the X-Acto knife, expecting to be surrounded by Melon Heads. She slashed thin air.

Chuck wailed. “Get the fuck off my mom!”

He charged the Melon Heads. The one holding her mouth turned her head hard to the left, just a fraction before her neck snapped. Chuck stopped. The Melon Heads growled at him like angry dogs. Heidi adjusted her grip on the X-Acto knife.

“It’s me you want,” Chuck said. “Let her go and take me.”

The one that had his mother by the waist cocked its head in incomprehension.

Heidi kept throwing glances over her shoulder, as much to watch their backs as to divert her gaze from what had been done to Chuck’s father. His leg had gone still, and the blood no longer spurted from the hole in his throat.

“Come on!” Chuck shouted. The startled Melon Heads jerked back. “Take me.” The bat clattered on the floor and rolled to a stop next to his dead father. Chuck threw his good arm wide. “You want me so bad. Well, here I am!”

The Melon Heads looked at the bat, then back up at Chuck in unison. His mother whimpered, trying to say something. The tendons in her neck were painfully visible.

Chuck took a step toward them. “I said let her go.”

“Chuck, don’t,” Heidi said.

He ignored her. Instead, he found a fleck of potato on the counter, picked it up and tossed it at one of the Melon Heads. It pinged off its horrid face. The man-creature looked at him with wary curiosity.

“Come on, fucker. My friend killed one of your forest retards. You killed my dad. You still don’t think we’re even? Let’s go. I dare you.”

A Melon Head swiped at him like a cat. Chuck didn’t so much as flinch. The stench of blood and sweat and fear was cloying. Heidi was sure more of them would come pouring in like a swarm of cockroaches any second now.

Chuck bellowed, “I said—”

The Melon Heads threw Chuck’s mother into him, but not before giving her neck a last, fatal twist. Her neck cracked like the popping of champagne corks. She was launched savagely into Chuck. He toppled over his father’s corpse, trying in vain to keep hold of his mother’s lifeless body. He hit the floor with a resounding thud, awash in his father’s blood. His mother rolled off his chest, her face turned up toward Heidi, a sightless eye staring at her.

Heidi screamed at the top of her lungs. She held the tiny knife in front of her. The Melon Heads ignored her. Instead, they dove for Chuck as he struggled to get off the floor. One grabbed him by the throat. The other dipped its head down and took a bite from Chuck’s thigh. Chuck shrieked in agony.

They were going to tear him apart. They started working at his limbs, tugging and twisting. Chuck’s bad arm was yanked out of the sling, eliciting a keening cry that rivaled the high wail of an ambulance siren. Heidi lashed out with the X-Acto, cutting a thin line across the back shoulder of the nearest Melon Head. It whipped its head around and snarled. Heidi jumped back nearly three feet. Her lower back painfully clipped the edge of a counter. The injured Melon Head went back to trying to pop Chuck’s shoulder out of its socket. Chuck tried to lift himself off the floor, but the other Melon Head leapt to its feet and stomped him in the center of his chest. Chuck dropped back like a dead man.

Ignoring the pain racing up her back, Heidi stepped forward, this time burying the knife into the side of the Melon Head’s neck. A bony hand quickly ripped it out. A geyser of blood burst from the hole in its neck. The Melon Head yowled, trying to hold the blood back. It glared at her with a burning hatred that could have reduced her to ash.

Heidi backpedaled, sobbing, her entire body shaking to the point where she felt as if she were coming undone. With Chuck unconscious, the pair of Melon Heads turned their attention to her. Blood pulsed between one’s fingers, painting the wall in red splatters as it advanced on her.

She had to run. That meant she was going to leave Chuck, who was utterly defenseless. She knew that if she made it out of here alive and came back, Chuck would be dead.

“Help!” she shouted at the top of her lungs. “Somebody help me! Please, somebody help!”

The shrillness in her voice gave the Melon Heads pause, but not for long.

She had backed her way into the living room. The Melon Heads approached slowly, as if they knew she had no chance of getting away. Why rush a kill when you could savor it?

“Help!”

Her voice faltered at the end. Her mouth was filled with the taste of copper. The back of her leg thumped an end table. She reached out for anything to steady herself, but there was nothing to grab. She fell over the armrest of a love seat, hit the cushion and rolled onto the floor.

“No, no, no, no!”

The bleeding one scurried to her. Its hot blood spattered her chest and neck and face. Heidi turned her head away, spitting out its poisonous fluid. When she turned back to face the Melon Head, its arms were reaching out for her like a vampire in one of those old black and white movies.

The steel end of a shovel flew past her vision, hitting the Melon Head in the face with a resounding thwang. The Melon Head fell away from her. She felt its body hit the floor next to her. She wasted no time in getting to her feet.

“You all right?”

Vent had the shovel cocked over his shoulder, threatening to swing for the fences at the standing Melon Head. Its head bobbed between its fallen comrade and Vent, confusion and anger fighting for control on its distorted face.

“Hit it, Vent. Hit it!”

He swung, but the Melon Head jumped back. The shovel sliced through the space where its stomach had been a nanosecond before.

The Melon Head reached out to grab the handle of the shovel. Vent tugged it away and batted its hand. It cradled its hand under its armpit. The creature made a disturbing gurgling noise at him, as if it were trying to speak through wads of phlegm.

“Run, Heidi. I’ll hold it back.”

Heidi’s sweat-soaked hair stuck to her face. “We can’t. Chuck’s in the kitchen.”

“Fuck.” Vent took another swing and missed. “Maybe we can get him and go out the kitchen door.”

“How?”

“Just stay behind me.”

Vent kept swinging the shovel and the Melon Head kept skipping out of the way. Heidi didn’t notice they had edged around the beast until her back was at the kitchen doorway. Chuck was still on the floor. His eyes fluttered open. “Wuh?”

Heidi reached down and tugged at his good arm. The pain brought Chuck out of his stupor. “Oh, Jesus that hurts.”

“We have to get out of here,” she said, unable to contain the panic in her voice.

The sound of the shovel handle hitting the doorframe made her heart skip a beat.

Chuck got up, swaying a bit on his feet. He looked around the room as if seeing his murdered parents for the first time. Then he looked at Vent, keeping the Melon Head at bay with the shovel.

His damaged arm hung limply at his side. It looked like it would fall off in a stiff breeze.

Heidi pointed at the door. “Let’s go.”

“No.” Chuck grabbed the biggest knife from the butcher block. “Vent, let it in!”

Vent looked back at them with an expression of complete bewilderment. That was enough time for the Melon Head to burst into the room, knocking him to the floor. Chuck charged, burying the knife in its taut belly. The Melon Head doubled over. Vent regained his footing and whacked it on the back of the head. The Melon Head collapsed, the impact pushing the knife past its hilt.

“Thanks, man,” Chuck said. He was scarily pale and covered in sweat.

Vent saw Chuck’s parents and staggered into the refrigerator. “Oh my god.”

The sounds of a building commotion came from the front of the house. Heidi said, “Maybe someone finally called the police.”

Chuck rushed out of the room to check the living room window. “It’s more of them!”

Heidi didn’t want to see for herself. “We have to go out back, now.”

Chuck stomped into the kitchen. “I can’t leave them.” He stared at his parents, his eyes brimming with tears.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t come sooner,” Vent said. “I could have stopped them.”

Heidi took Chuck’s sweaty hand. “Look, I know this is going to be hard, but we have to leave. Your parents wouldn’t want you to be killed by…by those things. They’d want you to do anything you could to survive. The only way we’re going to do that is by getting out of here right now while we still can.”

They may already have been too late. Who was to say there weren’t dozens more waiting for them in the darkened backyard?

“Heidi’s right,” Vent said.

One of the front windows broke.

Chuck’s good shoulder sagged. He whispered something Heidi couldn’t hear. He turned and kicked the door open. He took one last look at his parents and said, “I’m sorry,” his voice hitching. It nearly broke her.

The three of them scampered across the yard, waiting to be attacked. They jumped a fence, skirted around a pool, and scaled the next fence. Chuck did remarkably well for someone with one working arm. Heidi assumed it was the adrenaline.

They’d made it four blocks to the north when they finally stopped to catch their breath. In the distance, Heidi thought she heard glass shattering and wood snapping.

Vent sat with his head between his knees. “Well, now we’re all in the same boat.”

“What do you mean?”

“We’ve all killed a Melon Head. I wonder whose house is next.”