A Place So Wicked by Patrick Reuman (life books to read txt) 📕

face had suddenly taken on the same red as her eyes, and she suddenly looked almost like a ripe tomato ready to explode.

“They took Robert because of you! You bastard!”

A man came rushing up behind her. He grabbed the woman by the shoulder and whirled her around. He whispered to her, quickly and quietly, almost as though he were reciting some ritual.

“But our baby!” she called out, a painful sob escaping with the words.

“Honey!” he said.

His next words were quiet, but Toby thought they were, “We can’t.” He stepped to the side and guided the woman briefly away before turning back toward Toby. Unlike the woman, this man looked completely okay other than his disheveled clothes, which could have meant any number of things. He saw Paisley on the sidewalk but focused on Toby.

“You’re looking for Robert? He’s upstairs.”

“I was hopin—”

“He’s a little under the weather right now. He can’t come to the door.”

Toby was stumped. Everywhere they turned, they were hitting barriers. And back at home, his family was in some house that may or may not be harming them even as he spoke to these people. With the other houses they visited, Addison’s and Eli’s, part of his motivation was to get away from his own house, away from whatever evil he feared lurked within. But unlike then, he had been terrified of coming here. But now that he was there, he didn’t want to leave with nothing.

“But sir, your wife said something about somebody taking him.”

“No!”

Toby thought he was going to deny she ever said that, but he didn’t.

“She just misspoke.”

“How?”

“Listen.” He stepped forward, entering the doorway. “I’m not sure what she was talking about. But Robert is upstairs. He’s fine. Everything is fine.”

“But—”

“I need you to leave.” Toby tried to talk, but the man cut in again, his veins surfacing on his arms as he spoke. “Now!”

30

They were only one street away from their house, so they got back home quickly. On the way, Toby gave Paisley the rundown. She only caught bits and pieces of the conversation on her own and was eager to hear the rest the moment the man was safely behind the door again.

Toby recounted the conversation between him and Robert’s mother and then Robert’s father. Her eyes perked up, just as he had, when he explained how Robert’s dad had tried to backtrack for his wife. Neither of them believed a word the man said.

“Someone took him,” Paisley said, her words tapering off at the end. “But who would do that? And why?”

Toby shook his head. He had no idea. Further, he wasn’t sure if this new information made things better or worse. His gut told him worse. Sure, one person that didn’t like him much was gone, but that opened things to more new questions than it did answers.

They stood out front, staring at the entirety of their house, or, how it felt now, their prison. Toby wondered what it said of them that they were about to willingly go back into a house that they knew was hurting them somehow. Brave, or perhaps stupid. Inside the house was still very quiet when they entered. The lowering sun behind them cast long shadows across the whole front half of their house.

“They must still be in bed,” Paisley whispered, as if afraid to interrupt the stillness.

“I’m going to go check on them,” Toby said.

“I’ll look in on Trevor and Robbie,” Paisley offered.

They headed upstairs. Paisley wasn’t sure their uncle was even alive, not at first, when she entered into the silence that lacked everything, even the gentle hum of breathing. Robbie’s continuing life wasn’t confirmed until Paisley rested her hand on his chest and felt it raising and lowering with his breaths. She let out her own breath, relieved.

Down the hall, Toby was tapping on their parents’ door. All he got in return was a muffled mumble. When he peeked in, all he saw were the lumps formed by bodies lurking under the blanket.

“Mom? Dad?”

They both came up for air, looking at him in the doorway. They stared at him for a moment as if unsure of who he was.

“Is everything all right?” Toby asked.

His parents both had blue around their eyes like someone had just punched them. Their skin appeared thin, like it was only hanging loosely tethered to their bones, as if they were both approaching a hundred years old.

His mother smiled. “Yes, we’re okay. A little under the weather but we’ll be fine. All we need is some rest. We’ll see the doctor tomorrow.”

Toby noticed the putrid stench engulfing the room. But it was different than the one they were growing used to, the one stemming from the basement. Instead, it was exactly like the one that filled his brother and Robbie’s rooms earlier. He spotted the bucket alongside his dad’s side of the bed. He recognized it all too well from his own childhood, from his days of being sick. It was a vomit bucket.

Just the mere thought of it made his stomach churn. He looked away from it, back to his mother.

“Do you want me to make dinner tonight?” he asked.

“I’m not hungry, I don’t think,” his mom answered.

“I’m not, either,” his dad said. “But you can make yourself some food, if you want. Maybe the others are hungry. We’re just going to stay in bed for now.”

Paisley stood over Robbie’s bed. She could only see half his face because he was facing the wall, but what she could see haunted her. He looked like a zombie straight out of the eighties, his face shaded white like it was done with makeup, his eyes sunken in deep, the skin around them a nasty mix of black and blue.

Paisley startled at a sound and jerked