Uncollected Stories 2003 by Stephen King

She saw curiosity jump into my eyes and sighed, “All right, I was running away. My Uncle David caught up with me and tried to drag me back to the house. When I told him I wouldn’t go, he dragged me out to the truck. We were going around that curve when I wrenched the wheel out of his hands. Then you came along.”

She closed up like a clam and I didn’t try to get any more out of her.

There was something wrong about her story. I didn’t press her. I drove her into the parking lot and killed the engine.

“When can I see you again?” I asked. “A movie tomorrow?”

“Sure,” she replied.

“I’ll pick you up at 7.30,” I said and drove out, thoughtfully pondering the events that had befallen me in the last twenty-four hours.

19

Chapter Five

When I entered the apartment the phone was ringing. I picked it up and Vicki, the accident and the bright workaday world of suburban California faded into the half-world of phantom-people shadows. The voice that whispered coldly out of the receiver was Weinbaum’s.

“Troubles?” He spoke softly, but there was an ominous tone in his voice.

“I had an accident,” I replied.

“I read about it in the paper…” Weinbaum’s voice trailed off.

Silence hung between us for a moment and then I said, “Does this mean you’re canning me?”

I hoped that he would say yes; I didn’t have the guts to resign.

“No,” he said softly, “I just wanted to make sure that you didn’t reveal anything about the work you’re doing for me.”

“Well, I didn’t,” I told him curtly.

“The night after this,” he reminded me, “At eight.”

There was a click and then the dial tone. I shivered and hung up the receiver. I had the oddest feeling that I had just broken a connection with the grave.

The next morning at 7.30 sharp, I picked up Vicki at the Bonaventure Motel. She was all decked out in an outfit that made her look stunning. I made a low whistle; she flushed prettily. We didn’t talk about the accident. The movie was good and we held hands part of the time, ate popcorn part of the time and kissed once or twice. All in all, a pleasant evening. The second feature was just drawing to the climax when an usher came down the aisle. He was stopping at every row and looked peeved. Finally, he stopped at ours. He swept the flashlight down the row and asked “Mr. Gerad? Daniel Gerad?”

“Yes?” I asked, feeling guilt and fear run through me.

“There’s a gentleman on the phone, sir. He says it’s a matter of life or death.”

Vicki gave me a startled look and I followed the usher hurriedly. That let out the police. I mentally took stock of my only remaining relatives.

Aunt Polly, Grandma Phibbs and my great-uncle Charlie. They were all healthy as far as I knew. You could have knocked me over with a feather when I picked up the telephone and heard Rankin’s voice.

He spoke rapidly and a raw note of fear was in his voice. “Get out here, right now! We need – ”

There were sounds of a scuffle, a muffled scream, then a click and the empty dial tone.

I hung, up and hurried back for Vicki. “Come on,” I said.

20

She followed without questioning me. At first I wanted to drive her back to the motel but the muffled scream made me decide that this was an emergency. I didn’t like either Rankin or Weinbaum, but I knew I would have to help them.

We took off.

“What is it?” Vicki asked anxiously as I stamped on the go-pedal and let the car unwind.

“Look,” I said, “something tells me that you’ve got your secrets about your guardian. I’ve got some of my own. Please, don’t ask.”

She didn’t say another word.

I took possession of the passing lane. The speedometer climbed from seventy-five to eighty-five, kept rising and trembled on the verge of ninety. I pulled into the turnoff on two wheels and the car bounced, clung and exploded up the road. Grim and gaunt against the overcast sky, I could see the house. I pulled the car to a stop and was out in a second.

“Wait here,” I cried over my shoulder to Vicki. There was a light on in the laboratory and I flung the door open. It was empty but ransacked.

The place was a mess of broken test tubes, smashed apparatus, and, yes, bloodstains that trailed through the half-open door that led to the darkened garage. Then I noticed the green liquid that was flowing over the floor in sticky rivulets. For the first time I noticed that one of the several sheeted tanks had been broken. I walked over to the other three.

The lights inside them were off and the sheets that draped them let by no hint of what might have been under them – or, for that matter, what was still under them. I had no time to see. I didn’t like the looks of blood, still fresh and uncoagulated, that led out of the front door into the garage. I swung open the door and entered the garage. It was dark and I didn’t know where the light switch was. I cursed myself for not bringing the flashlight that was in the glove compartment. I advanced a few steps and realized that there was a cold draft blowing against my face. I advanced toward it. The light from the lab threw a golden shaft of light along the garage floor, but it was next to nothing in the Stygian blackness of the garage. All my childish fears of the dark returned. Once again I entered the realms of terror that only a child can know. I realized that the shadow that leered at me from out of the dark might not be dispelled by bright light.

Suddenly, my right foot went down. I realized that the draft was coming from a stairway I had almost fallen down. For a moment I debated, then turned and hurried back through the lab and out to the car.

21

Chapter Six

Vicki pounced on me as soon as I opened the door. “Danny, what are you doing here?”

Her tone of voice made me look at her. In the sickly yellow glow of the light her face was terrified.

“I’m working here,” I said shortly.

‘ At first I didn’t realize where we were,” she said softly. “I was only here once before.”

“You’ve been here?” I exclaimed. “When? Why?”

“One night,” she said quietly “I brought Uncle David his lunch. He forgot it.”

The name rang a bell. She saw me grasping for it. “My guardian,” she said. “Perhaps I’d better tell you the whole story. Probably, you know that people don’t get appointed guardians when they drink. Well, Uncle David didn’t always do those things. When my mother and father were killed in a train-wreck four years ago, my Uncle David was the kindest person you could imagine. The court appointed him my guardian until I came of age, with my complete support.”

For a moment she was quiet, living in memories and the expression that flitted rapidly through her eyes was not pretty. Then she went on.

“Two years ago the company he was working for as a night watchman folded up and my uncle was out of a job. He was out of work for almost half a year. We were getting desperate, with only unemployment checks to feed us and college looming up for me. Then he got a job. It was a good paying one and it brought in fabulous sums. I used to joke with him about the banks he robbed. One night he looked at me and said,

‘Not banks.'”

I felt fear and guilt tap me on the shoulder with cold fingers. Vicki went on.

“He started to get mean. He started bringing home whiskey and getting drunk. The times I asked him about his job he evaded me. One night he told me point-blank to mind my own business.

“I watched him decay before my very eyes. Then one night he let a name slip – Weinbaum, Steffen Weinbaum. A couple of weeks later he forgot his midnight lunch. I looked up the name in the telephone book and took it out to him. He flew into the most terrible rage I have ever seen.

“In the weeks that followed he was away more and more at this terrible house. One night, when he came home he beat me. I decided to run away. To me, the Uncle David I knew was dead. He caught me –

and you came along.” She fell silent.

22

I was shaken right down to my boots. I had a very good idea what Vicki’s uncle did for a living. The time Rankin had signed me up coincided with the time Vicki’s guardian would have been cracking up. I almost drove away then, despite the wild shambles the lab was in, despite the secret stairway, despite the blood trail on the floor. But then a faraway, thin scream reached us. I thumbed the glove compartment button, and reached in, fumbled around and got the flashlight.

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