maybe,” Embry said, not at all sure it was his imagination. He suspected it could be the cancer. Maybe it had finished ravaging his insides and had moved up into his brain to see what kind of damage it could cause up there. Either way, he had developed a definite dislike for the sinkhole. There was something unnatural about it, something… sinister.
“Come on, back to the house,” Hannah said, hooking her arm through his and leading him away from the watching crowd. Embry allowed himself to be led, trying to decide if what he’d seen was real or a trick. He glanced into the crowd, and saw the Brewster kid from across the street, staring and holding another one of those damn jars of his . .
Chapter Two
Morgan crept down the hallway, making sure to avoid the creaking floorboards. He paused outside his mother’s bedroom and listened to the rhythmic sounds of her snoring. Satisfied, he forged on and slipped downstairs. The shadows were deep and pure, but he was not afraid. He waded through the gloom, his familiarity with the house making it easy for him to navigate.
The light was better down here, the yellow-orange glow from the streetlights outside illuminating the kitchen. He didn’t switch on the light; he knew his way enough in the dark. He could do it with his eyes closed if he had to. He walked past the table where he ate breakfast and to the basement door. He opened it without hesitation and flicked on the light switch. A soft, yellow glow bathed the wooden steps. He closed the door softly behind him and descended.
No matter how many times he came here, it made him smile. This was his secret place. He cast his eyes on his collection and walked towards the dog-eared armchair laced with cobwebs. He sat in the chair and tucked his knees up to his chin.
The shelves around the edges of the room were filled with jars, and inside were his prize possessions. He had spent a long time collecting them, his beloved spiders. He had hoped he wouldn’t have to, but they were strong tonight, and he would have to send one down the hole. He hated to do it, but there was no other way. It would be okay as long as he could keep finding them, but they were becoming harder to find, especially if they didn’t want to be found. He cast his eyes over the jars, reciting the names of the spiders in his head. He locked onto one of them, an old coffee jar with a red lid, and knew that he had found the one.
It was always this way. There was no changing it. He always just knew. That was how it worked.
He crossed to the red-lidded jar and scooped it up, pressing his nose against the glass as he tapped his finger on the lid. The spider skitter-jerked across the smooth surface and stood there, waiting.
Morgan smiled and hugged the jar close to his body.
Yes.
This was definitely the right one.
He headed back upstairs, turned out the light, and closed the door.
II
“You don’t have the balls for it.” Candy said as she looked Eddie up and down.
“Don’t dare me; you know I’ll do it.”
“Bullshit you will. You’re not that drunk, yet.”
Eddie grinned, the bravado oozing out of his pores as he shifted gear, the cherry red Camaro growling in response as it accelerated.
“I swear to you, I’ll do it. I have my climbing gear in the back. The question is,” he said with a smile, snatching a quick look at the crop top that she was almost spilling out of. “What will you, do for me?”
Candy smiled and flicked her blonde hair out of her eyes. “Everything,” she said, grabbing his crotch across the seat.
“Holy shit, you got a deal, baby. I’ll do it right now.”
She released her grip and looked at him, as he shifted into fourth, towards the hole on Maple Street that had been all over the news.
Eddie parked the Camaro around the corner and was about to get out when Candy leaned across the seat and grabbed his arm.
“Look, you don’t need to do it, okay? You proved your point.”
She looked scared, and