Too Close to Home

But then he saw shadows beyond the front door. It was Adam, with his mother right behind him.

Derek stopped, turned, ran back for the basement. He could hear the front door opening, voices, Donna Langley saying, “I said I was sorry. You think I wanted to ruin everyone’s vacation?”

He dropped to the floor in front of the crawlspace opening and was about to slide the door open when the basement lights went on. He knew there was a switch at the top of the stairs, which meant someone was coming down. Derek scurried into the narrow space between the back of the couch and the wall, figuring he was pretty well covered, but Jesus, what if someone came down and decided to watch TV?

Someone did come down the stairs right then. Derek heard the beer fridge open, a couple of things get put into it, then Adam, shouting upstairs, “Should I refreeze the ice packs?”

Derek wondered whether to get his attention, fess up, enlist Adam’s help in getting him out of the house. Adam might be pissed, but there was no way he’d tell. His parents would find a way to blame him. But before he could make up his mind what to do, Adam was going back upstairs. But the light stayed on. Derek thought maybe he’d come back. Derek could make out some of the conversations upstairs.

Mr. Langley: “Honey, just go to bed. We’ll unpack.”

Mrs. Langley: “Maybe, in the morning, I’ll feel better.”

Mr. Langley: “Yeah, well, whatever. Maybe Adam and I will go up, you can join us when you’re feeling better. Honestly, your timing.”

Mrs. Langley: “For Christ’s sake, you think I wanted to get sick?”

Mr. Langley: “I’ll be up in a minute.”

Okay, so if they went to bed, the only one to worry about was Adam. And if he went to bed, Derek would wait till they were all asleep, sneak upstairs, enter the code, get out the back door. So long as Penny didn’t change her mind, sneak out of her own house and come over, Jesus, let’s hope that didn’t happen-

Mr. Langley: “Who the hell’s that?”

Derek thought, Shit, is he talking about me? How could he know Derek was down here, how could he see-

No, someone outside, tires crunching on gravel, then stopping. The sound of a car door closing.

Christ, no. Not drop-in company this time of night.

Adam: “I don’t know who it is, Dad.”

Derek thought he could hear footsteps outside, then Albert Langley saying something, probably with the door open.

It sounded as though someone else, maybe two people, he wasn’t sure, had come into the house.

Some muffled talk. Mr. Langley saying, “Who did you say you are?”

A new voice. Just snippets of sentences. Then one word, really clear: “Shame.” And then: “Son of a bitch.”

That was when Derek heard the first shot. Then Adam, screaming. “Dad! Dad!”

Mrs. Langley, sounded like from up on the second floor: “Albert! Albert! What’s going on?”

And then Adam: “Mom! Don’t come-”

That was when Derek heard the second shot. The sound of something-someone-falling down some stairs.

Then, footsteps running through the house. At least two sets, frantic running, from the front of the house to the back. Only lasting a second or two.

Derek heard a third shot, then someone tumbling down the half flight of stairs toward the back door.

After that, it was very quiet.

Derek realized he was trembling. His teeth were nearly chattering. He heard more footsteps going through the house, slower now, calm steps, measured steps. They came down the half flight of stairs, paused, turned, came all the way down to the basement. Couldn’t hear the person walking around that well now, not on the basement broadloom, which was laid over cement. But he could sense someone in the room. The person who had fired the shots. A killer. A few feet away, on the other side of the couch. Derek could hear shallow, rapid breathing.

He clamped his jaw tight together, determined to stop the chattering. He wondered if the killer could hear the blood pulsing in his temple.

Then the person went back up the stairs, turned out the light. The front door opened and closed, then a car door, same thing. Open, then slamming shut. A moment later, tires rolling away on gravel.

Derek waited about five minutes, slithered his way back out from behind the couch, crossed the rec room, and went up the stairs to the landing at the back door, just enough moonlight streaming through the window to show Adam lying there, his legs still splayed across the stairs, his head in a pool of black blood.

Derek delicately stepped over him, his hand shaking as he turned back the deadbolt, opened the door, and ran off into the night.

ONE

The night they killed our neighbors, the Langleys, we never heard a thing.