The House on Mangle Lane [Prequel to Hudson House]

Chapter 4

"That's not very funny," Vanessa said. In fact, it was downright scary. She had agreed to come here with Carly and a couple of the "football jocks" and now Carly was rolling around on the floor like a drunk and Tim was telling her she was going to die. He was supposed to be kissing her right now. What the hell had happened?

"It's not a joke," Tim said. Dead. That's what his voice sounded like. Like the voice of the dead.

"What's wrong with you?"

"I saw something. I'm trying to help."

"This isn't going to get me to make out with you." In her mind, however, she briefly imagined a sweaty session of vigorous groping.

"He's back."

"What? Who?"

"Hox Grent."

CJ and Paula were within kissing distance now. He was flashing that smile of his, the one that that got him everywhere with girls. He could treat them like crap, as he did Paula, but they still came back for more; they let him string them back and forth like a Yo-Yo.

Hox Grent had kidnapped kids back in the fifties and killed them in the basement of this house. He'd been caught and imprisoned. That was almost twenty years ago. Vanessa knew all the stories from kids at school and had heard some of the facts from her parents. The kids said Hox was possessed or something. Vanessa's parents had said Hox was mentally deranged. Perhaps the two conclusions weren't that far apart. He'd apparently chopped up the kids and fed the pieces to his dog. Only one body had ever been found, though speculations ran that Hox had killed eight, maybe ten or even more.

"He's coming for you," Tim said.

"Stop being a loser," she said. She sounded strong but her heart was racing and cold sweat broke out in the middle of her back beneath her bra strap.

"I want to help you. Please." Saliva dripped from the corner of his mouth in one long stream that stretched toward the floor.

If he reached to touch her, she would punch him in the face. Something was wrong with him, maybe from that joint, maybe something else (or maybe he was just being stupid) and now he was talking about Hox Grent who killed teenagers thirty years ago, and more goosebumps were forming along her legs and up her back, which felt like hundreds of spiders racing across her flesh, so if he even dared to come one step closer, she would scream and punch him and kick him in the crotch and run. Carly would have to fend for herself. This was all her fault anyway.

"At his sentencing, Hox said one thing you might want to remember. He said, 'Lock me up if you must, but it will not end anything.' What do you think he meant by that?"

Tim started to lean toward her as if for a kiss and Vanessa's hands, gripping that flashlight, were coming up, aiming right for his chin, which would knock him backwards and give her an open path to the front door, when Paula shoved CJ hard and yelled that he was a stupid little loser with no dick.

CJ actually hit the floor on his butt, but he was already laughing before Paula even made it past Tim and Vanessa. "Just for a few minutes?" CJ called. "The boys just want to see your strategy. It'll be a great show!"

Hector and Whitey collapsed onto each other with rolling waves of laughter.

Paula stopped, faced them. She was too angry to speak, so she gave them all the finger.

A second later she was out the front door and down the steps. The door banged in the frame like the sound of a gavel smacking a judge's bench. Just like the sound Hox heard when the jury sentenced him to one hundred fifty years.

CJ regrouped with his buddies. He shrugged. "I tried." They slapped him on the back as if he had just scored a touchdown. Hector and Whitey took turns calling Paula variations of demeaning names.

Tim's eyes widened. "You better run."

"Get away from me!" With Paula gone and Carly in her own world, Vanessa's world shrunk to the small square of floor space beneath her. And beneath that where Hox chopped up his victims for homemade puppy chow.

The other boys sauntered over. They stood behind Tim like backup singers.

"Tim giving you a hard time?" CJ asked in a voice he'd use talking to an infant.

"Not likely," Whitey said. "Boy's limp as a noodle."

Vanessa cut through their stupid laughter. "Something's wrong with your friend."

Tim hadn't moved any closer, but his mouth drooped out of the smile into a weird sort of open "O" like a zombie, and even his eyes sagged like those of a rotting corpse. Fresh drool slipped from his mouth.

"You should have listened to me," Tim said.

The boys leaned closer. CJ patted his shoulder. "Tim, you okay?"

Tim wavered back and forth as if his body had forgotten how to stand still, like he was a patient after a lobotomy. Or someone inflicted with an evil spirit.

"It's too late now," Tim said. His words slurred together. "Hox is here."

Vanessa swallowed something bitter in her throat. "What's wrong with him?"

"Nothing a little punch to the balls can't solve," Whitey said.

"Come on, guys," CJ said. "Tim could be really messed up. What the hell was in that weed anyway?"

Whitey shrugged. "I don't make the stuff."

"Are you ready?" Tim said.

"For what?" Vanessa said.

Tim's head snapped up straight, his mouth tightened, his eyes narrowed. "TO DIE!" His hands seized her throat and she fell backwards over Carly's legs. When she hit the floor, the world went black.