Chapter #40Frankly, an Unexpected Twist by: Nostrum   You hesitate over your decision. You want one of these guys to go with you. But do you need both? Joe would probably be a natural at distracting Robert and your mother, so that leaves Frank. Besides, he sounds like he wants to be the one to do it.
So you touch him on the arm. "You come with me", you tell him. "Uh, Joe, do you think you and Taylor—and Lucy", you add, "could keep my mom and brother occupied while—?"
Joe smiles. "It's what I do best!"
His face falls, though, when Frank says, "Yeah, it's not like its worth anything else."
You lead your friends in through the garage. The kitchen and dining room are empty. But your mom calls out, and you find her in the living room with her knitting.
"Your dad's in his office", she tells you without preamble. "He's not happy." She starts to say more, but catches herself as the rest of your friends pile in behind.
"I'm late 'cos I had to call in some other guys to help with my truck", you tell her. "Because it wouldn't start", you add so everyone else will know what your excuse is supposed to be. "So, uh, this is Scott and Lucy. And Frank and Joe."
"That's a lot of help", she says, looking startled. "But it's nice to meet you."
"Nice to meet you too, ma'am", Joe jumps in. "Consolation prize for not getting it licked. So we had to all come back over here to—"
He stops at the sound of thundering feet. You look up in time to see Robert hurl himself in a heap onto the landing of the stairs. His eyes pop when he sees the crowd below. "Will!" he shouts. "Uh—"
"Hey, is this your brother?" Joe exclaims. "Hey sport, come on down!"
But Robert hangs back and his brow crinkles. "Uh, Dad's been looking for you", he tells you. "Who's—?"
"These are some guys from school", you tell him. "We've been hanging out at the old school—you know, the old elementary school. Trying to get my truck fixed."
"Oh?" He looks very doubtful and wary, and you grit your teeth. Either go upstairs and lock yourself in your room, you think very hard at him, or come down here and keep your mouth shut.
If he is telepathic, it's the latter command he obeys. But it's on dragging feet that he comes the rest of the way down the stairs.
"Speaking of your truck, Will", Frank says, "let's go talk to your dad, see if he's got those tools we need." He slaps you in the shoulder. Probably he means it to be a tap, but you stagger under the blow.
"I need to talk to Dad too!", Robert exclaims.
"Talk to him after he gets done yelling at me", you tell him.
"But it's important", he insists.
"Later!"
"Come hang out with us", Joe tells him. "We're all gonna go into town, have some fun when we leave here. Assuming your dad doesn't kill your brother. Is that likely, Mrs. Prescott?"
"What? Well, uh—", she stammers.
But Joe is off again. "And if he does kill your brother", he tells Robert, "that just leaves more room for you." He raises his hand for a high five, but Robert only returns him a dark look.
At least he doesn't follow you and Frank down the hallway to your dad's office. Dread fills your chest as you stop outside the door. "Okay, what's the plan?", you whisper to Frank.
"Just follow my lead."
"You can't just attack him!", you hiss.
"Sure I can. But don't worry. Listen, I know what I'm doing, I helped Joe get one of those masks off a thing earlier this afternoon. If I need your help I'll call you over."
"But—"
"Will!", your dad's muffled voice calls from the other side of the door. "Is that you?"
You swallow hard. "I'm not covering for you if he calls the cops", you warn Frank as you grasp the door handle.
Your dad is behind his desk when you enter, and he glares at you over the top of his bifocals. His expression is very stern, but at least he hasn't turned purple. Well, at least not yet.
"Sit down", he growls at you. Then, as Frank follows you in, he says, "Who's this?"
"He's a friend from school", you stammer. "I had to call him out when Keith couldn't, uh, get my truck to jump. It turns out it wasn't the battery—"
"Never mind", your dad snaps. "You're the one I need to talk to. You and your brother. Robert!", he shouts; then, he addresses Frank. "If you need something, young man, you can wait out in the haw—"
The air suddenly dies in his throat, and his jaw falls open. His eyes bulge. "Haw— Huh— Hrgh!", he gasps.
Your feet freeze to the floor.
"Excuse me, sir", Frank says. "Are you alright?"
Your dad's chest heaves and his face reddens and puffs up. He leans forward in his chair and grips the edge of his desk. His eyes begin to stream, and he wheezes from the back of his throat.
"Will, get out your phone", Frank orders as he pushes past you. "Don't call nine-one-one yet, but be ready too." He leans over your dad, putting one hand to his chest and the other to his face. "It could be a heart attack, but it could be—"
"Should I go get my mom?" You grab the door handle.
"No, let's just see if— What was that phrase you were telling me and Joe earlier? That special one?"
"What?"
"That special phrase", he says, "for getting things off of people!"
Either your brain is seizing up and running very slow, or the world has sped up dramatically, for it seems to take forever for his meaning to penetrate the gauzy fog of horror that has engulfed your brain.
"Oh!", you finally exclaim. "Uh—" It takes you a moment to recall it. Then you yell it all in a rush.
Frank bends over your dad. He murmurs under his breath.
Then he falls back, and sits on the corner of the desk between you and your dad. Of the latter, you can only see a form slumping in the chair.
Oh, fucking God!, you think wildly to yourself. Is he dead? Did these guys actually kill your dad? Are they outside killing your mom and brother too?
Then Frank turns to give you a grim look. He holds something up. "What's going on here?", he says.
You stare, dumbfounded, at the thing he is showing you. For it is one thing to suspect and fear the worst. It is another to have it confirmed.
Frank is showing you a mask.
You almost pass out. But Frank revives you with a sharp word: "Prescott!"
"It's a mask", you burble. "Holy shit, it actually was a—"
"Get away from the door", Frank orders. "Get over here."
"But—"
Something closes around your torso. It's like a hand or a claw, but it's the size of a giant's, and it's invisible. You fall off your feet as you are dragged by an invisible force over to your dad's desk. But you don't fall over, though your feet have gone limp. The invisible thing grips you tightly and holds you erect so you can see the figure in your dad's chair.
It's Robert, dressed in your dad's clothes, looking like a child playing dress-up. He's passed out, his chin sagging to his chest. Your mouth falls open.
"Prescott?"
You shake yourself all over (inside that invisible, iron grip) and gape. "It's my brother", you mutter.
"If this is your brother, who's that outside with your mom and everyone else? Prescott", Frank growls when you don't answer, and you are rattled on your limp feet.
"I don't— A fake? I don't get how Robert could be pretending to be my dad!"
"So who's pretending to your brother?"
Only one possibility occurs to you—Blackwell—but you still can't reconcile it to what you see before you.
You are lofted into the air and dropped into one of the chairs in front of your dad's desk. "Wait here", Frank says as those iron talons vanish from around you. "If you move I will tear your head off when I come back." He stalks from your dad's office.
You cover your face with your hands and fight to keep from throwing up. You've no idea how many minutes have ticked by—though it feels like hours—before Frank stalks back in. "Come out here", he says.
In the living room he shows you the limp trio lying on the sofas like cast-away dolls: Taylor, Lucy, and Joe. Of your mother and the person who looked like your brother, there is no sign.
--
It takes awhile for the banging of pots and pans to penetrate your consciousness. It's like your skull has thickened or your brain has fossilized. You can hardly think, and are hardly aware of your surroundings.
But you lever yourself to your feet and hobble into the the kitchen. Lucy is there, frowning at the stove. She glances over at you, and bites her lip.
"I'm not much of a cook", she says. "But there was some ground beef in the refrigerator, and I think I could manage to fry up some hamburgers."
"What for?"
She looks at you gravely, then gives you a small smile.
"Because, Will", she says, "I don't have much of a mothering instinct, but I can see when someone needs mothering."
You wince. Mothering.
You haven't got a mother now. Nor do you have a father. You're lucky, you suppose, to still have a brother. Speaking of whom ...
You look around with a feeling of vague guilt. Here you are, moping around and feeling sorry for yourself when Robert's got to be in the same shape, or worse. Where is he? You're pretty sure he didn't go with Taylor and Frank and Joe, who are out scouring the city for signs of your missing mom and fake brother. Probably he's up in the bedroom. You should go find him.
Lucy intercepts you first, and gives you a strong hug. But you are limp in her arms.  You have the following choice: 1. Continue |
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