The Boy in the Lot(3)

“I will,” Mark said, snatching Tim up by his collar again. “Come, Tim.” He led the dog out onto the curb then shut the motel door behind him. Glancing around, he saw nothing but the parking lot stretched out before him. Beyond that, the little white reflectors along the highway glowed in the moonlight. He looked to the right, where the parking lot concluded in a black plume of foliage, and thought that might be the best bet.

Mark tugged Tim’s collar along the curb toward the trees. Overhead, thunder rumbled, causing him to freeze. Even Tim froze. The air was cool. From his years in the Scouts, he learned to smell a storm in the air. There was definitely a storm coming. A big one.

“Hurry up,” Mark said, and gently swatted at Tim’s backside.

The dog loped forward then slowed to a concentrative trot. When Tim reached the edge of the curb, he sniffed around while walking in circles, until he hopped down and wended through the underbrush.

Lightning exploded overhead. Mark gasped and looked up in time to see the resonating bluish lights leeching from a bulwark of angry black clouds. The moon looked like a face that was slowly retreating into a darkened room.

“Come on, Tim!” he shouted into the darkness. He waited several seconds but the dog did not reappear from the trees. A scraping sound caught his attention. Mark looked up and saw barren tree branches scudding against the motel roof, blown by the wind.

Stupid dog…

He stepped down off the curb and peered through the dark trees. Movement—a whitish blur—caught his eyes. “Tim!” But whatever it had been faded back into the darkness. It wasn’t like Tim to be disobedient.

What if it’s not Tim? Mark thought. What if it’s something else?

The thought frightened him. Yet it was stupid. What else could it possibly be? He didn’t believe in monsters. Bears, maybe…or wildcats…but not some monster…

Then Davey Hannah stepped out from behind a large tree. The boy’s pale white face seemed to radiate with an incandescent light. A smile was half-cocked on the boy’s face, his wide black eyes shimmering out at Mark.

It took Mark a second to find his voice. “Davey? Is that…is that you?”

Almost imperceptibly, Davey’s head turned first to the right then to the left.

“What are you doing here?” Mark asked.

Davey’s smile widened. He turned and glanced at something behind the tree—the tree from behind which he had come—then looked back at Mark. Yet before Mark could utter another word, Davey stepped back behind the tree, filling his void with absolute darkness.

“Davey, wait,” Mark said, and pushed toward his friend through the thicket. When he reached the tree, he peered behind it…but Davey was not there.

Something came up behind him. Something larger than Davey Hannah.

Mark turned around and saw it.

Something flashed over Mark’s eyes. A moment after that, he felt an unforgiving constriction around his chest, cutting off his airway. He tried to scream but couldn’t. When he felt something hot and sharp pierce the flesh at the base of his spine, he tried to thrash and pull himself free, but it was a futile attempt.

“…avey…”

Mark’s vision faded. He gasped for air but could harness none. His body went numb, numb.

Only a few yards away, Timbuktu barked. Then the old dog turned around and ran off through the woods. A motorist would find the dog hours later, wandering up Route 40 in the direction of a rural little Maryland hamlet called Stillwater.





About the Author

Ronald Malfi is the award-winning author of eleven novels, to include The Narrows, Floating Staircase, The Ascent, Snow, Cradle Lake, and many others. His novel Floating Staircase won a Gold Independent Publisher Book Award for Best Horror Novel of 2011, and it was also nominated for a Stoker Award for best novel of 2011 by the Horror Writers Association. Most recognized for his haunting, literary style and memorable characters, Malfi’s dark fiction has gained acceptance among readers of all genres. He currently lives in Maryland, with his wife and daughter, where he is at work on his next novel. He can be contacted online at www.ronmalfi.com.