He asked.
Nickie slowly turned her head to him. Tears welled up in her eyes as she spoke. “He killed those guys. He just killed those guys. Maybe you were right…maybe this is too much.”
Steve didn’t respond. He looked back at Mikey then back to Nickie.
“I think I’ll just go home.” She sobbed.
Steve thought about responding, but simply smirked and bit his lip. Nickie sighed and slumped back in the seat.
The Camaro sped down the dark highway cutting through the night like a bat. Mikey had fallen back asleep and was busy covering Steve’s leather seats with a fresh coat of drool. Nickie stared out of the window in silence.
As they pulled up in front of Mr. Clark’s house, Steve tapped the brakes hard and Mikey was slung face first into the front seat.
“Oh sorry. It was a cat.” Steve grinned.
Mikey groggily wiped at his face and rubbed his head. He shot Steve an angry look then yawned. Sniffling, Nickie stepped out of the car and slid the seat forward. Mikey tumbled out of the door and rolled into the grass and stood up.
“My face hurts.” He mumbled.
“I know.” Steve laughed.
Nickie turned and started to walk towards her car. Shaking his head Steve jogged after her.
“Nickie wait up. You’re coming back tomorrow, right?”
“Yeah…yeah I’ll be back. Just need to clear my head and let this soak in. Besides, I wanna see what else my stepdad has lying around. You’re gonna need help figuring out how to get in there.” Nickie leaned back against her car and grinned. “Why? You gonna miss me Stephen Hanson?”
Steve let out a little laugh. “Yeah, you’re okay Sutherland. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Nickie smiled back as she got in her car and started to drive off. Steve waved then turned towards the house. Mikey was standing behind him grinning from ear to ear.
“Nice to see you two making up. Is Anthony gonna have some competition when he gets back?”
“Shut up.” Steve said as he shoved him and headed up the porch.
Mikey rolled his eyes and followed Steve into the house. The front door squealed as it opened, a sound that had become so familiar to them they didn’t even notice it. The rusty hinges barely held the door anymore, the screws clinging to the rotted wood.
Stepping into the foyer, a carpet of darkness fell over them. It blanketed the house, suffocating the rays from the streetlight outside.
“You trying to go green Mr. Clark?” Steve yelled as he flicked the light switch on the wall.
When nothing happened he flicked it again then stumbled to the lamp in the living room and tried that.
“Mikey don’t close the door, I can’t see a thing.” He yelled back as he wiggled the switch on the lamp. “Mr. Clark, Mit where are you?”
“Steve! Steve, there’s blood on the door handle!” Mikey yelled in panic.
X
The bright lights of the waiting room were dizzying. The smell of death mixed with sanitation clung to every particle of air. Mr. Clark shook his leg feverishly, his eyes swept back and forth in a blur. Every time someone passed he jumped to his feet and in disappointment he slumped back onto the pink vinyl chair.
“I think that’s him!” Mit said anxiously.
Springing out of the chair, he pointed down the hallway. A middle-aged, brown haired man wearing glasses was slowly walking towards them. He kept his eyes on the floor and didn’t look up until he was standing directly in front of Mr. Clark.
He held his hand out and forced a smile on his face. “I’m Dr. Novacks; I handled your mother’s surgery.”
“Surgery!” Mr. Clark repeated.
“I was certain someone had told you.” He reached into his pocket and took out a white rag. “Oh boy.” He sighed as he wiped his face. “Fullerton, there have been some complications.” The doctor said in a monotone voice.
“Why was my mother in
Nickie slowly turned her head to him. Tears welled up in her eyes as she spoke. “He killed those guys. He just killed those guys. Maybe you were right…maybe this is too much.”
Steve didn’t respond. He looked back at Mikey then back to Nickie.
“I think I’ll just go home.” She sobbed.
Steve thought about responding, but simply smirked and bit his lip. Nickie sighed and slumped back in the seat.
The Camaro sped down the dark highway cutting through the night like a bat. Mikey had fallen back asleep and was busy covering Steve’s leather seats with a fresh coat of drool. Nickie stared out of the window in silence.
As they pulled up in front of Mr. Clark’s house, Steve tapped the brakes hard and Mikey was slung face first into the front seat.
“Oh sorry. It was a cat.” Steve grinned.
Mikey groggily wiped at his face and rubbed his head. He shot Steve an angry look then yawned. Sniffling, Nickie stepped out of the car and slid the seat forward. Mikey tumbled out of the door and rolled into the grass and stood up.
“My face hurts.” He mumbled.
“I know.” Steve laughed.
Nickie turned and started to walk towards her car. Shaking his head Steve jogged after her.
“Nickie wait up. You’re coming back tomorrow, right?”
“Yeah…yeah I’ll be back. Just need to clear my head and let this soak in. Besides, I wanna see what else my stepdad has lying around. You’re gonna need help figuring out how to get in there.” Nickie leaned back against her car and grinned. “Why? You gonna miss me Stephen Hanson?”
Steve let out a little laugh. “Yeah, you’re okay Sutherland. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Nickie smiled back as she got in her car and started to drive off. Steve waved then turned towards the house. Mikey was standing behind him grinning from ear to ear.
“Nice to see you two making up. Is Anthony gonna have some competition when he gets back?”
“Shut up.” Steve said as he shoved him and headed up the porch.
Mikey rolled his eyes and followed Steve into the house. The front door squealed as it opened, a sound that had become so familiar to them they didn’t even notice it. The rusty hinges barely held the door anymore, the screws clinging to the rotted wood.
Stepping into the foyer, a carpet of darkness fell over them. It blanketed the house, suffocating the rays from the streetlight outside.
“You trying to go green Mr. Clark?” Steve yelled as he flicked the light switch on the wall.
When nothing happened he flicked it again then stumbled to the lamp in the living room and tried that.
“Mikey don’t close the door, I can’t see a thing.” He yelled back as he wiggled the switch on the lamp. “Mr. Clark, Mit where are you?”
“Steve! Steve, there’s blood on the door handle!” Mikey yelled in panic.
X
The bright lights of the waiting room were dizzying. The smell of death mixed with sanitation clung to every particle of air. Mr. Clark shook his leg feverishly, his eyes swept back and forth in a blur. Every time someone passed he jumped to his feet and in disappointment he slumped back onto the pink vinyl chair.
“I think that’s him!” Mit said anxiously.
Springing out of the chair, he pointed down the hallway. A middle-aged, brown haired man wearing glasses was slowly walking towards them. He kept his eyes on the floor and didn’t look up until he was standing directly in front of Mr. Clark.
He held his hand out and forced a smile on his face. “I’m Dr. Novacks; I handled your mother’s surgery.”
“Surgery!” Mr. Clark repeated.
“I was certain someone had told you.” He reached into his pocket and took out a white rag. “Oh boy.” He sighed as he wiped his face. “Fullerton, there have been some complications.” The doctor said in a monotone voice.
“Why was my mother in
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