Deep in the Darkness Read Online Free PDF Page A

their bedroom when there was probably another bathroom somewhere else in the house.
    Has to be another bathroom, Michael. Your new home has three of them. Hey, you said it before yourself. Good 'ol Phil Deighton wanted to give you a little fair warning, wanted to give you a taste of what to expect when you open your doors to the public.
    I blew out a nervous breath. I had to say something, break the alarming silence. "Mrs. Deighton? I'm Michael Cayle, the new doc—"
    "You can't help me," she interrupted, but her injury-induced dialect made it come out like: Ooo cand elp me . A dollop of saliva pooled out of the bottom of her mouth-hole and wavered down to the floor in a long, swaying string.
    I took a step forward. The woman staggered sideways and faced back out the window, bumping her shoulder against the pane. She brought her only hand up and dragged two-inch yellow nails across the glass, producing a harsh squeaking sound.
    "Mrs. Deighton..." I said, feeling on the defensive. "I'll try my best, I—"
    "They'll come for you, just like they did for me, just like they did for Dr Farris, like they will for everyone else in this God-forsaken town!" Her voice had started quietly but rose in volume with each staggering word, and by the time she came to the end of her bizarre remark, her voice was a virtually indecipherable bark.
    My breathing had increased, was exploding from my lungs in clutches. I wanted to console the woman, perhaps usher her back into bed...but I couldn't bring myself to touch her! My body crawled with revulsion, my teeth clamped down in what I realized was an instinctive effort to hold back a scream. I was afraid of her . And it wasn't just the woman herself—I've seen similar injuries, many fresher than this—it was the look in her eyes, that coupled with the swilling dark void in her face. It made me crazy. It made me fearful of what had happened to her.
    They'll come for you, just like they did for me, just like they did for Dr Farris...
    Suddenly I asked, "Wasn't Dr Farris attacked by a dog?" Her injures, and then the story about Farris, had me thinking.
    She remained unanswering, staring out the window, thick yellow nails tapping-tapping-tapping against the window pane.
    Of course he was, I thought. That's why I'm here. He was savagely killed in a horrific accident and now I'm moving into his home and taking over his job. Christ, the whole situation, which began as a Godsend, was looking more and more morbid by the minute. Perhaps he'd been the fortunate one, I thought, unlike Mrs. Deighton who'd survived her own dog attack and was now living life permanently blanketed in her injuries. I pulled my sights away from her, then paced from the room, taking long slow deep breaths in a struggle to soothe my dizziness. My fear-response system was working rigorously, and I needed to massage it into retreat mode.
    Once in the hallway, I stopped and leaned against the wall, my thoughts waging battle. Why on earth had I been so damn afraid in there? Was it the anxiety of the move that had me all bundled up in knots? When I first heard about the jarring circumstances concerning Neil Farris's death, I'd been shaken and a bit uncomfortable having to assume his revered position in this township of daily handshakes and hellos. Now, Mrs. Deighton, my new neighbor...she'd suffered a similar burden, and the discomfort blooming in me seemed to fall under the lens of a microscope.
    Were there wild dogs running loose in Ashborough?
    I shook the unpleasant thought from my head, but made a mental note to make some checks once we were all settled in. I walked to the top of the stairs, then detoured to the first door across the hall, to the right .
    Bathroom. Full. With a tub.

5
     
    P hillip had traded in his cigar for a pipe, and was packing it when I arrived back downstairs. I feared that someone might've heard his wife barking at me, but apparently her shouts weren't loud enough to travel all the way downstairs. He was