Alone Read Free Page A

their lawn anymore?
    His robe had come unfastened and it flapped behind him, fluttering like a cape. If any of the neighbors were watching him right now, he realized, they were getting quite the show.
    I probably look like a middle-aged Captain Marvel, he thought. Fuck them. If they don’t like it, they can close the shades.
    It occurred to him that other than the Kresby’s and the Lopez’s, nobody could see him anyway. The gray fog obliterated everything else. He could see the road and a few of the homes across the street, and the cars in their driveways, but beyond that was emptiness. Indeed, the neighborhood just sort of faded away, vanishing into the murk. Chances were he could run around naked out here and no one would know. He almost wished somebody could see him. If ripping off his robe and boxers and letting his dick flap in the breeze would make someone call the police, he’d be all for it.
    Focus, he thought. You’re freaking out, and that’s not going to help Jerry or Danielle. Get a grip on yourself. The Kresby’s will be home. They’re retired. They never go anywhere, except to the grocery store on Friday. Phil’s prostate wakes him up early every morning. He’ll answer. He’ll help.  
    Except that Phil Kresby didn’t answer the door. Neither did his wife, Susan. Dan’s urgent knocks and cries for help went unanswered, just as they had at the Lopez home. Frantic, he pressed his face against the Kresby’s large bay window at the front of the house. The curtains were slightly parted. Dan cupped his hands beside his eyes and peered through the glass. It was hard to see more than a few feet inside. The Kresby’s living room was filled with the same gray fog that obscured the rest of the neighborhood.
    “What the hell is going on? What is this?”
    Dan realized that his voice sounded very strange out here in the silence. He had trouble believing it was he who had spoken aloud. He scowled, wondering how the fog had gotten inside the Kresby’s home. Had they left a window open or something? Were they okay? Could something have happened to them, too?  
    “Phil,” he shouted, banging on the window and noticing the strange muffling effect again. “Phil? Susan? Are you home? It’s Dan Miller! Please, if you’re in there, answer me. I need help. Something has happened.”  
    Dan glanced around the yard, spotted a ceramic lawn gnome squatting between two of the Kresby’s bushes, and picked it up. He noticed that the shrubs had the same withered look and texture as the grass and trees, but then he turned his attention to the gnome. It was solid, but surprisingly light. Dan smashed the lawn ornament’s pointed green hat against the window. The glass shattered on the third blow. For a brief second, Dan thought he heard a woman scream, as if from a far off distance, but then the sound faded. Shards of glass fell quietly at his feet. Again, he wondered what was going on with his hearing. The sound of breaking glass should have been much louder. And who had he heard screaming? Had it been Susan? If so, she must be upstairs, given how far away she’d sounded.
    “Susan? Are you in there? I’m sorry about the window, but I need help.”
    He paused, listening, but there was no response. Yet he couldn’t have imagined the scream, could he? There had to be someone here.  
    “Susan! Answer me, god damn it! Something very strange is going on. I’m coming in. I don’t mean any harm. If you’re in there, let me know.”
    When he still didn’t receive a response, Dan carefully picked the shards of glass out of the frame and then climbed through the broken window. He watched where he stepped on the other side, mindful of his bare feet. Once inside the Kresby’s home, he was immediately overcome by a vague sense of unease. At first, he chalked it up to the situation—his family was missing and he had just broken into his neighbor’s house. But as he crept forward into the living room, that feeling of dread