Ghost Canyon (The John Decker Supernatural Thriller Series Book 7) by Anthony Strong (ebooks that read to you .TXT) 📕

“Yeah. Just watch my back.” Decker approached a dented World War Two Jeep parked up in front of the cabin. It looked like a derelict, but according to Robyn it was Carlton’s pride and joy. Skirting the aging vehicle, he climbed the steps and used the butt of his gun to rap three times on the cabin door.

When there was no answer, he tried again.

This time there was movement inside the cabin, and then a reedy voice spoke. “Who is it? Who’s out there? What do you want?”

“Carlton. Open the door,” Decker said, relieved the old man wasn’t following through on the warning sign nailed to his railing.

“Go away.”

“He sounds just fine to me,” Barnes said. “Tell him not to go outside and let’s get back to the hotel. Standing out here in the street like this, knowing what’s out there, is giving me the willies.”

“Carlton. Open up. We need to talk.” Decker tried the door handle and found it locked. “It’s important.”

For moment nothing happened, then he heard a lock disengaging. The door creaked open to reveal the old man dressed in a pair of boxer briefs and a stained white T-shirt. “Talk then. Make it quick. You woke me up.”

“We came to check on you. Make sure you’re safe.” Decker could see past Carlton into the shack. It was a mess. From his vantage point, he could see a rickety wooden table piled with dirty plates. A sweaty odor wafted out as the humid air inside the cabin escaped, causing Decker to wrinkle his nose.

“What? Why wouldn’t I be?” Carlton shook his head. “You got me out of bed for this?”

“You didn’t hear my gunshots?”

“Can’t say that I did.” The old man poked his finger toward his left ear. “I’m deaf on one side. Can’t hear for shit. If I’m lying on my good ear, the sky could fall, and I wouldn’t notice.”

“Sorry to have bothered you,” Decker said. “A word of advice, though. After we leave, lock up and don’t go outside until morning. It’s not safe.”

“No worries there. I’m going right back to bed.” Carlton scrunched his face up and let out a grunt of annoyance. “Which is where I’d still be if it weren’t for you.”

“Point taken.” Decker decided it wasn’t worth getting into a spat with the old man. “We’ll be on our way back to the hotel now.”

“Um. Maybe not.” Barnes backed up toward the cabin steps. He craned his neck upward into the night sky. “It’s coming back, and I swear, it sounds like the damned thing’s right above us.”

“That’s impossible.” Decker swung around, bringing his gun to bear, ready to fire. Above them, in the darkness, he could hear a beat of wings. He looked upward, searching the blackness. And then he saw it, soaring across the tops of the buildings and spiraling downward.

“Holy hell.” Carlton’s eyes flew wide with fear. “It’s a monster.”

“It always is,” Decker said dryly, as the creature touched down in the middle of the street twenty feet distant. He glanced between the two men. “Remember, whatever you do, don’t look into its eyes. That’s how it gets you.”

“Yeah.” Barnes scrambled up the steps. “What now?”

As if to answer his question, the creature threw its head back and let out a shrill screech. It lowered its arms, folding leathery, batlike wings to its sides. Then it started toward them in a shambling, creaking gait.

“Inside. Now,” Decker shouted, grabbing Barnes by his shirt collar and yanking him backwards toward the door. “If we stay out here we’re doomed.”

“Now wait a minute, you can’t just barge into my home.” Carlton tried to close the door.

“Not so fast.” Decker stuck a foot in the jamb and tugged it open again, then bustled the shocked FBI agent inside, before following him and slamming the door. There was a large bolt attached to the frame. He drew it across.

“I don’t trust that to hold,” Barnes said, pulling himself together. “We need to put something in front of that door. Barricade it.”

“How about this?” Decker crossed to an old chest of drawers standing against the cabin’s sidewall.

“Perfect.” Barnes joined him and together they dragged the heavy piece of furniture across the floor and pushed it up against the door. “That should hold it.”

“Hey.” Carlton was standing, hands on hips, a look of indignation on his face. “You’re wrecking the place.”

“I hardly think so,” Decker replied. “Five decades of neglect appear to have beat me to it.”

“You don’t need to be mean after I let you in here.” Carlton was sucking on his lower lip. “I probably saved your lives.”

“You didn’t save our lives,” Decker said. “You tried to slam the door and leave us to fend for ourselves against that creature out there.”

“I panicked, that’s all.” Carlton waved a dismissive hand and hobbled across to the bed in the corner of the one-room shack, where he flopped down.

“Whatever you say.” Decker went to the window. The creature was still there, standing in the street, observing the shack. But it made no move to approach. Then, with another warbling screech, it unfurled a pair of hideous wings and took to the sky where it disappeared from view.

“It’s gone again,” Barnes said from his position at Decker’s rear, peering over his shoulder. “Thank the heavens for that.”

“For now.” Decker searched the sky but could not see the creature anymore. “But I’m not sure I want to step out there again anytime soon. How many hours until dawn?”

Barnes checked his watch. “Three, give or take.”

“Then I guess we hunker down here until then.” Decker glanced toward Carlton, who sat perched on the edge of the bed glaring at them. “Looks like you’ve gotten yourself a couple of roommates.”

Chapter Forty-Eight

Decker and Barnes spent the rest of the night huddled inside Carlton Miller’s cabin. Neither man felt comfortable sitting on the stained sofa facing the sooty stone fireplace, so Barnes took the only other place to sit, a solitary dining room chair next to the table.