Death Cursed (Death Touched, Book One)

Chapter 17

A half hour later found the trio in the sleepy suburbs of the big city. Well-lit streets shone on the look-alike houses with their two floors and grassed yards. Dogs barked and a few strolling couples strolled down the sidewalks. Some of the houses had fenced backyards, others didn't. The one they were looking for, a plain white house with two floors, had an eight-foot tall fence with an intimidating gate. The houses on either side of them were each only a single story. Lights in the front two rooms revealed a living room and dining room. No one was in either of them.

They drove past the house. Nena, who sat in the back seat, leaned between the two front ones. "I think we missed it."

"We just scout the front. It's the back that's our entrance," Jack told her.

Peter turned the corner and they drove down the side of the block until they reached the halfway point. A dirt alley divided the block, and it was down that trash-can lined way onto which they turned. Peter shut off the car headlights and they bumped along until they found the rear gate of the house. It was made from a single piece of thick wood held onto the fence by heavy metal hinges.

The trio stepped out of the car and gently shut the doors. Nena crept up to the upright boards of the fence and tried to look through, but there was no gap between them. Jack and Peter went straight for the gate, and she joined them. The gate's handle was as imperious as the hinges, but it was the padlock that made her look twice.

The mechanism was as black as coal and was dotted with small cuts that formed themselves into similar-looking runes like those in the cells of the Terminal police station. Including its shackle the padlock was nearly as big as her extended hand. Its thick shackle made cutting an impossibility, and the large hook on which it was clamped as just as hefty.

Jack lifted the lock and his eyebrow as he studied the runes on the front. "This is some serious security. I doubt Romero could find a better hex than this."

"So can we get through?" Nena asked him.

He grinned and deftly removed his glove with his occupied hand. "Of course."

He stuck his transparent hand into the internals of the mechanism and turned and twisted his wrist. After a few motions there was a short click and the lock popped open. He pocketed the lock and noiselessly opened the gate.

The three crept into the backyard. The space was plain with only grass and a small brick patio. The rear door was solid wood with a thick square of frosted glass that covered the upper half. Its position lay in the center of the house so that only the weak light of a hall spilled out onto the bricks.

Nena was in the middle of the ground as she took a few steps into the yard. Her foot stepped on something hard in the dark. A short squeaking noise echoed across the lawn. The whole group froze and looked down. Beneath her foot in the grass lay a bone-shaped dog squeaky toy.

Nena lifted her eyes to the bemused face of Jack. "Beautiful footwork," he teased.

She frowned and stuck out her tongue while Peter shut the gate behind them. He swept his eyes over the grassy area and furrowed his brow. "I see no signs of dog droppings," he whispered.

Jack turned his attention back to the quiet house as he drew out a cigarette. "Maybe it belongs to one of the neighbors. Either way we at least know how loud we can be." He stuck his cigarette against one side of his lips and lit the smoke before his eyes flickered to Peter. "See who's home, will ya, Pete?"

Peter nodded and strode past his two companions. He stopped twenty feet from the house and floated off the ground.

Nena's mouth dropped open as she watched Peter float up to the height of the second floor. She whipped her head to Jack and pointed a finger at Peter. "How's he able to do that?"