The New Neighbor (24 page)

"No!"
 

"
Go inside
!"
 

"I'm
not
going back in there!"
 

"Robby, I'm the one she wants! Now
go
!" He stuffed the chunk of wood in his coat pocket and groped for his cane. Robby remained at his side. "Dammit, Robby, will you –"
 

“I'm coming with you."
 

They didn't have time to argue. The rush of putrid air was coming again as Robby moved ahead of Prosky, whose hobbling jog held him back until –
 

 
– two strong hands clutched Prosky's shoulders, digging steel-hard claws through his coat and shirt, piercing his skin like knife blades. He cried out as he was lifted from the sidewalk and swept above the street like a leaf on the wind.
 

Robby's cried out after him, shouting Prosky’s name, his voice fading.
 

Prosky kicked his legs helplessly as he rose higher, heading straight for Lorelle's house. The stench of decay filled his nostrils like mud and made him gag. Still clutching the charred wood in one gloved fist, he swung his other arm up until he felt the cane connect with something hard and crusty. The creature released a wet snarl that reminded Prosky of the sound of muscle being peeled away from bone and he struck again, harder. The snarl became a scream and the third time, when he stabbed the cane upward and felt its tip sink into soft tissue, the creature's grip loosened.
 

Prosky struggled and fought, swinging the cane again and again until, with a frustrated screech, the claws released him. The ground rushed up at him like a giant fist.
 

He slammed onto Lorelle's front lawn and rolled. His breath gushed from his lungs and he knew at least one rib had broken, but the sweep of powerful wings overhead made the pain easy to ignore.
 

He opened his eyes and saw Robby's sneakers an inch in front of his face.
 

"C'mon!" he rasped, clutching Prosky's arm. "Let's get
outta
here!"
 

Movement hurt, but he did his best to ignore the pain. Still gripping his cane, Prosky crawled on his knees and elbows first, then stumbled to his feet and started down the street toward his car with Robby.
 

The sound of wings was gone. So was the awful smell.
 

Even the dogs had stopped barking.
 

All they could hear was the sibilant whisper of the wind, their rushing footsteps and gasping breaths.
 

Then glass shattered.
 

A frenzy of vicious barking echoed through the night.
 

They could hear the dogs behind them, their claws clicking against the pavement and splashing through puddles, their slobbering pants for breath between each fit of barking.
 

Prosky tried to run faster and ignore the piercing pain in his ribs, but he fell behind Robby.
 

Then
she
came again with a scream like a rake dragging over a chalkboard.
 

Robby moved further ahead, glancing back over his shoulder, eyes more white than brown.
 

The car parked at the end of Deerfield grew closer as the pain in Prosky's chest grew more debilitating, preventing him from drawing enough breath as he ran.
 

The stench fell over him again, making breathing even more difficult.
 

He desperately willed someone to hear, to come outside, knowing she would not want to be seen by others, not here where she lived and preyed on those around her. But Prosky knew that no one would come. They were all sleeping ... very deeply.
 

* * * *

Robby reached the car, opened the driver's side door and got in, sliding over to the passenger's side. He looked out at Prosky and began screaming, "Hurry hurry my god hurry!”
 

Prosky dove into the car and started to pull the door closed as he tossed his cane into the back seat, but –
 

 
– one of the dogs was on him. It closed its jaws on his left leg, trying to drag him back out of the car.
 

The second dog was fast approaching and Prosky knew that if it got there, he wouldn't stand a chance. He snapped his left fist back, releasing the blade, and slashed.
 

The dog reared its head back with a pathetic wail when the blade caught its snout, digging a deep gash over its nose and lips. But it dove forward again immediately and –
 

 
– its eyes flashed a deep glowing red as the gash peeled back, opening like a blooming flower on black raisin-like flesh that sagged grotesquely over a flat simian face and a mouthful of jagged yellow fangs glistening with clear fluids. As its right front leg lifted, bony clawed fingers sprouted from the paw, swiping at Prosky's abdomen.
 

The creature no longer bore any resemblance to a Malamute, or any
other
kind of dog. As it lunged forward, Prosky drove the blade into its throat and pushed with all his strength. The creature tumbled backward out of the car and Prosky jerked his arm back, pulled the door closed and locked it. He started the ignition as the creature threw itself against the car, rocking it like a boat on choppy waters, and clattered onto the hood.
 

Prosky babbled obscenities as he jerked the car into gear, then cried out in shock because –
 

 
– the other one was on top of the car now, pounding on the roof so hard that it was crumpling inward like cardboard.
 

Robby was slouched way down in the seat making small, horrified sounds in his throat.
 

Prosky's foot jammed the gas pedal to the floor. The tires spun on the wet pavement for a moment, then the car roared away from the curb and sped down Mistletoe.
 

The creature on top of the car rumbled over the roof, down the back window, and Prosky glanced into his rearview mirror in time to see it fall off the trunk, gracefully landing in a sinister crouch in the road as the thing that had been Lorelle rounded the corner, flying no more than six feet from the ground.
 

"Son of a bitch, it's
her
!" Robby cried, looking over his shoulder. "Drive, hurry, go, go, 
drive
!"
 

The creature hunkering below her hunched its shoulders and sprouted two frail-looking wings, broke into a run and lifted itself into the air.
 

Robby babbled, "Oh Jesus shit fuck god
damn
!”
 

The creature clinging to the hood of the car like a stone gargoyle perched on the corner of an ancient skyscraper opened its mouth in a wet grin as its wings broke free and spread wide, blocking Prosky's view of the road. It lifted its hands – three fingers and one stubby thumb each – and scraped it black claws over the windshield, leaving deep trenches in the glass, then flattened its palms against the glass and pushed.
 

The windshield sparkled with silver webs a second before it fell in pieces onto the dashboard, sprinkling their laps.
 

Black arms rippling with stringy muscles reached into the car as if to embrace Prosky and –
 

 
– he crushed the brake pedal with his left foot.
 

The red eyes widened as the creature snapped backward and fell to the pavement.
 

Robby slammed into the dashboard, then crumpled in a heap on the floor.
 

Prosky hit the accelerator again and all four tires rumbled over the body on the road. The creature's scream was so loud, Prosky could feel it vibrate through the body of the car.
 

It sickened him.
 

He glanced in the mirror. She was only a few yards behind him, and the smaller creature only a few feet behind her, while the other twitched in a heap on the road.
 

Prosky sped up, nearing the intersection of Mistletoe and Churn Creek Road, icy air slapping his face through the broken windshield. The light was red. He ignored it.
 

A pickup truck coming from the right of the intersection screamed to a stop, missing Prosky's car by mere inches as Prosky swerved and continued toward Hilltop.
 

"Where's a fucking cop when you
need
one?" he shouted at the steering wheel.
 

He barely slowed as he turned right on Hilltop, relieved to see the Motel 6 sign less than a block away. Prosky looked in the rearview mirror and saw –
 

 
– nothing.
 

They weren't there.
 

But he knew they were not gone.
 

"I think we're safe for a little while," he said.
 

In a flat, numb voice, Robby repeated, "For a ... luh-little while." There was blood on his face and a lump had swollen on his forehead where he'd slammed into the dashboard.
 

Prosky's tires squealed as he drove into the motel parking lot, not bothering to slow down for the speed bump as he drove around to his room at the back of the building and slammed to a stop in front of his door. He killed the engine, pulled the keys from the ignition and staggered around the car without his cane, leaving the door wide open. The deadly blade still protruded from his left hand.
 

Robby got out and followed him, moving haltingly as he glanced cautiously in every direction. Fishing the key from his coat pocket, Prosky unlocked the door and kicked it open. He pressed the tip of the blade against the doorjamb until it slid back into his hand with a click. He stepped inside, leaning against the door as he took the charred wood from his coat pocket and wrote quickly as Robby watched.
 

First, the circle.
 

Outside, the sound of traffic from Interstate 5, which ran behind the motel, was interrupted by the flapping of great wings as –
 

 
– Prosky hurriedly wrote the first name, Senvi, then –
 

 
– the first sound was joined by a second as two pairs of wings grew nearer, and –
 

 
– Robby whispered, "They're coming," as –
 

 
– Prosky wrote the second name, Sansanvi, and –
 

 
– a
third
sound joined in and all three drew closer as –
 

 
– Prosky wrote the third name, Semangelaf, and threw the door shut, turned both locks and dropped the wood to the floor.
 

It hit the carpet with a quiet thump.
 

He moved away from the door slowly, leaning against the wall for support, groaning painfully with each stabbing breath.
 

Robby stared at the door and backed away from it, until his legs hit the bed and he flopped down onto the edge, staring with his mouth open. "D-do you, uh...you think –"
 

Scraping outside.
 

Claws scraping over pavement.
 

Low slobbering growls.
 

Prosky stiffened against the wall.
 

Thick oppressive silence, until –
 

 
– the scream.
 

It was the same scream they'd heard coming from the Pritchard house when Prosky wrote the three angels' names on the front door.
 

It stopped and, for about three seconds, there was silence, until –
 

 
– chips of wood exploded like shrapnel from the door as two black, three-fingered hands burst through effortlessly, curled their fingers, dug their curved claws into the wood like hooks and pulled.
 

The door was torn outward, ripping through the doorjamb and away from its hinges as if it were made of paper.
 

Prosky started to move away from the wall but the slicing pain in his ribs and his weak leg cut him down and he hit the floor hard, grunting, "The headboard –"
 

The hands threw the broken door backward. It crashed into the side of the car, shattering the window on the passenger's side.
 

" – Robby, on the headboard –"
 

Robby crawled over the bed and pressed his back to the wall, curling into a ball.
 

" – the piece of wood on the
headboard
, Robby." Prosky crawled toward the bed, shallow breaths wheezing in and out of his lungs.
 

The empty doorway was filled with silent darkness that seemed to move like spilled black paint.
 

"Put up the.. .the puh-piece of wood on.. .th-the headboard, Rob-Robby!" Prosky hissed.
 

The darkness swirled into a shape.
 

Robby looked at the headboard, saw a square piece of wood lying flat, leaned forward and tipped it up. Written in black on the piece of wood:
 

ADAM AND EVE BARRING LILITH
 

The shape solidified and moved slowly forward, like darkness peeling away from darkness.
 

"Lean it ... against the wuh-wall, Rob –"
 

She burst into the room, her black scaled body glistening in the light, and stood over Prosky with her wings spread. The wings darkened the room, filled it with shadows. When she spoke, her voice was like a gorge being vomited from deep inside her:

"They're not like
me
, Prosky,” she said through a slobbering grin. “They're only demons. They don't give a
fuck
about three angels.” She bent down, swept him up and turned him to face her, holding him in the air for a moment by his shoulders. Then she hefted him effortlessly until he was lying across both of her large hands and –