The Empty Ones

Chapter Eight- Homeward Bound

Harriat fell back.

The man tapped on the glass and gave a hollow, screeching laugh, the moonlight drinking up his bottomless eyes.

Heart beating painfully, Harriat ran to the bathroom, ripped the door open. Hayes jumped. Lily stared.

"Hold Lily," he said, picking her up and giving her to Hayes. "If I'm not back in ten minutes, get out of here, got it?"

"What's going on?" Hayes demanded. Her arms trembled.

He opened his mouth. Closed it. Ran. The moon followed him as he tore into the lounge and snatched Dan's baseball bat.

The backyard was silent. Freckles of stars littered the sky, distant animals cries echoing in the night. He eased the door shut and stepped out, the air nibbling at his skin.

His ribs joined his heart in its rapid dance. "Come on, come on," he hissed.

Something slammed into him. He crashed to the ground. That howling laugh erupted again, and all he could see was the outline of his face in those black eyes. Nails dug into his shoulders. It leaned in. Blackness clouded his vision.

"What's wrong, boy?" it grinned, voice high and wobbling, like a squealing pipe. "You scared?"

Every bone in his body was dead. The cold seeped into his brain, and the man's face swam in and out of view.

"Have you ever squeezed a mouse," the man whispered. "Their eyes sort of bulge, and then they go squeal, squeal." It laughed again. "And the keep doing it, even when you're squeezing 'em so hard you think they might pop. They just keep going. With their very last breath." Its lips peeled back, revealing rows of dirty teeth. "Are you gonna squeal for me, boy?"

Somewhere through the cold and the numbness and the steel spreading through Harriat's blood, something ignited in his arm, and he sent the bat crashing down. Its head made a sickly sound. Warm blood sprayed across his face. Burned against his skin. He felt it fall beside him. The fire ignited, brighter this time, louder. It screamed through his limbs as he sent the bat down again and again, and it laughed and laughed, but he couldn't hear it over the roaring of the fire, just see the lips stretched back, the shoulders shaking. And the impact shot up his arms and blood clawed at his face and only when the lips slackened and the shoulders still did he stop. And he screamed. And screamed. The cold vanished then, leaving behind a heaviness that gripped his arms and legs and forced him to his knees. He looked at the body. Threw up. Got shakily to his feet.

The girls hadn't moved. Hayes was huddled against the sink, arms crossed over Lily's chest.

"Hugh?" she whispered. "What's going on? Why were you shouting?"

He tried to speak. Breathed. Tried again. "Get the bags. Fill them with as much food as you can."

"Why?"

"We're leaving."

"But-"

"Do it!" he yelled, and she flinched.

He ran into Lily's room and pulled out her clothes. He found her in the living room, scooped her up. Hayes appeared with the duffel bag, and Ernest padded into step with her. He snatched the car keys from a bowl on the table. His hand curled around the doorknob.

"Wait," Hayes said, barely even a whisper.

He looked at her.

"I don't want to," she said. Her arms were trembling again.

He got down on one knee and gripped her shoulders. His face flickered across her eyes. "I know you're scared," he breathed. "Trust me, I know. But we stay here, we die. Now, I'm gonna open that door. And when I do, you run, got it? As fast as you can."