Inanimate (43 page)

“
That’s
strange
,” she
thought out loud.

Crass
came over to the window beside
her.

“
What
is?”

“
The police car that’s
outside…it’s empty.”

Crass
looked at it too and he didn’t like
what he was seeing.

“
Hold on, I’m going to call
Greg.”

Crass
turned and walked towards the phone
in the kitchen.

Wilma stood, anxiously looking towards
the vehicle, hoping she would see the cops nearby but so far she
had seen nothing. A second later something else caught her eye,
something from the lawn.

“
Ben?”

“
Ben?”

“
Ben?”

Despite her voice getting louder in her
head she only realized it wasn’t really getting any louder after
her third call.

“
Ben?!
”

This one was louder and it drew her
husband from the kitchen fast.

“
What? Wilma what’s
wrong?”

She didn’t have to answer. Crass saw it
clear as day. As an added security feature Crass had already turned
on the garden lights despite the fact darkness had not fully
settled yet.

Quickly, Wilma grabbed the lock on the
window and jiggled it.

“
What
are you doing?” Crass asked
sternly.

“
I’m making sure this
window’s
sealed!”

Crass
frowned at her but said
nothing.

“
What do we do?”

“
Wait here!”
Crass said “I’m calling
Greg!”

Crass
moved into the kitchen as Bear stared
back at his wife with animal like ferocity. Claws started to
protrude slowly from its paws and Wilma could not take her eyes of
them. In a heartbeat, the furry monster turned and sprinted round
the side of the house. Wilma called to her husband but he didn’t
hear her.

MacNamee’s phone rung loudly,
breaking the awkward silence in Oates’ Sheriff
Station
. The
jingling, upbeat pop song Greta had changed it to as a joke
unsettled him but he answered all the same. His display told him it
was Crass calling so he answered quickly.

“
Hello Ben what’s up?” MacNamee
said as he moved away to a quieter spot to talk.

As Crass
spoke he loaded bullets into a
six-chambered pistol on his kitchen table.

“
The officer
s outside are gone.”

Crass
was blunt, Wilma’s safety was at
stake. He was not going to dispense with small talk.

“
Where
are they? Are they
alright?”

“
I don’t
know!”

Crass was impatient as he was trying to
load the gun at the same time.

“
Wilma and I looked out a few
minutes ago and they weren’t there. I’m worried Greg. Wilma and I
are locked up but they don’t know what they’re dealing
with.”

MacNamee
covered the mouthpiece and called
over to Jacobs.

“
Ok Ben hold tight. I’m gonna get
Sergeant Jacobs to call the station, see where they are, maybe send
a backup unit, ok?”

“
Ok Greg,
but please hurry!”

Crass
hung up. Heading into the living room
he stood beside his frightened wife. He put an arm around her that
told her everything would be alright. He felt however, this may
have been the first lie he had ever told his wife. He did not know
if everything
was
going to be alright.

The front door
rattled
,
causing them both to turn. Once Bear had decided it wouldn’t open,
the rattling stopped and he moved on to another door or window.
After a few minutes of terse silence, they faintly heard the
basement door banging. However that door held tight too by the
sound of things.

“
I need to go upstairs. Just to
make sure he doesn’t find a way in up there.”

Crass spoke quietly, which was actually
kind of silly because Bear already saw them standing in the living
room.

“
Stay here
. I won’t be more than a few minutes.
Just yell if you need me.”

Wilma
was more frightened than she had ever
been before and Crass spotted it right away. Turning her towards
him he looked into her eyes.

“
Everything
is going to be fine. I
promise.”

With that
, he kissed her forehead knowing he
had definitely made the first false promise to his wife in years.
In his head he thought they may survive but things were
definitely
not going to be
alright ever again. Doctor Crass moved up the stairs, he was
absolutely convinced he locked the house up so tight he would heard
anything forcing its way in, and he was right. Every so often he
would something pounding on a window from the hallway. Wilma
nervously paced around the living room, walking from the windows to
the adjoining kitchen entrance, she listened for any signs of
forced entry but there were none. In fact, she hadn’t heard any for
a few minutes now. There was only the sound of her husband walking
around upstairs. She knew it had to be her husband making the
floorboards creak because Bear would not be heavy enough to do so.
Suddenly all movement stopped and silence settled heavily around
her. With nothing but fearful thoughts to keep her company, Wilma
stood alone in the living room. She walked over to the window and
looked outside, hoping to catch sight of the creature retreating,
defeated. Her hope was a long shot however as she looked out into
the brightly lit garden at nothing but grass, trees and a
well-manicured row of flower beds. An odd rustling sound started
softly behind her. Slowly, she turned, looking nervously around the
room. The rustling continued as she walked to the center of the
room, puzzled as to where the noise was coming from. She could
still hear it. Soft, inconsistent, with quick sporadic movements,
and then it hit her where the sound was coming from. Her eyes were
drawn to the opening in the wall where soot was falling onto the
logs in the natural fireplace. She realized the rustling was coming
from the chimney. Bear had found a way in.

“
Car 12, come in car
12
,
over.”

The voice
came out loud from the radio in
the car but no-one answered.

“
Come in car
12
. If you do
not respond, backup will be dispatched, over.”

Wilma
stood motionless in front of the
fireplace; she knew the bear she saw out on the lawn with razor
sharp claws was slowly moving down their chimney. She had to get
the attention of her husband but she had to be very quiet, so as
not to alert the intruder. She tried to move backwards but the
floorboard creaked underneath her feet forcing her to stay still.
Rigid with fear she forced herself to think logically. Questions
shot through her mind. She wondered if she would have enough time
to go and get her husband before the creature entered the house.
She wondered if the old floorboards would give her away, turning
Bears’ slow sneaky descent into a sharp drop, putting her in
dangerously close contact with him. She stood shaking, pondering
her options. About to give up with thinking she almost cried out
for her husband and ran but stopped just before that as a thought
popped into her head.

“
Light the fire!”

The thought, obvious to anyone
with a clear mind was like a sparkling revelation to
Wilma
. Her
eyes drifted to the steel box beside the fire. Her eyes moved
slowly, as if their very movement would create enough noise to give
her away. With a breath she took one large step towards the box,
using her memory to avoid the creakiest floorboards around her
while also taking care not to have her feet too close to the
chimney. Bending slowly sideways, Wilma picked up the fire lighting
liquid and the matches. Quickly, quietly, she uncapped the fluid
tin and sprayed onto the logs. The crinkling noise as she squeezed
the tin had the potential to give her away, but since she had
already started she decided to press on, emptying as much as she
could onto the firewood. The rustling in the chimney stopped as she
slid open the matchbox. Like a deadly game of chess the intruder
waited to see what the next move would be. Removing a match from
the box she got ready to strike it. She remained still a moment and
listened for movement. There was none. Wilma was not going to be
fooled however. With a quick swipe she struck the match, lighting
it sharply. The sound of the match scoring the box caused Bear to
speed up his descent, but he was too late. Wilma tossed the match
into the logs causing a voracious burst of heat and flame. The
initial blue burst from the fluid shot a quarter of the way up the
chimney, scorching Bear’s fur, causing him to lose his
footing.

“
Ben!”

Wilma
screamed, knowing there was no point
in being quiet now. Bear tumbled down the chimney, all the way down
the sooty stone shaft, into the logs below. Bear landed on his side
in amongst the logs, causing his entire right side to catch fire
instantly. After frantically kicking himself off the wood, sending
embers up into the air, he dove on the carpet, rolling maniacally.
Although Bear did not feel pain he did not want to be destroyed, he
had a mission to accomplish. And it was unfortunate for Wilma that
Bear was unable to feel pain, because if he was able to, he might
have ceased his attack now that the entire right side of his body
was scorched. Bear was livid. With one eye melted and half a body
blackened he eyed Wilma; standing petrified only a couple of meters
away from him. Flicking out his claws he charged at her, his rage
blinding him to the fact her husband was standing off to her left
with a pistol pointed squarely at him. With a skilled eye Crass
pulled the trigger as Bear jumped at Wilma. The bullet tore a chunk
out of Bear’s scorched fur and altered the trajectory of his jump,
causing him to slam into the wall. Taking no time to relish his
shot Crass moved in to shoot again but Bear dove behind the couch
and bolted into the kitchen. Bear momentarily letting up, Wilma
released some emotion, throwing her arms around her husband while
holding back tears.

“
Wilma, we need to get out of
here.”

Crass
spoke quickly to his wife who simply
nodded in agreement. As they stepped out into the hall Crass
carefully watched the other entrance to the kitchen while Wilma
turned the deadbolt lock as quietly as possible. Her husband was
smart enough not to use anything as a lock that required a key for
exit, in case they needed to escape quickly. The door opened. Wilma
stepped out first, followed by Crass who walked backwards, keeping
the gun poised until the door was closed. While he held the gun,
Wilma closed the door, making sure she heard the clicked to confirm
it was closed properly. Crass kept walking backwards down the
steps, watching the door as he did. He knew the creature had to
still be in the house. He had locked everything up tight so there
really was no way out that wouldn’t be heard. There was little to
no sound as they walked down the steps, Crass careful not to trip.
His cellphone rung loudly in the house; there was no way he was
going in after it. As he listened to his phone ring out, Crass got
the feeling he was being watched. He rose his eyes upwards just in
time to see a wooden chair being flung through his second floor
window. The old man’s reactions were not as quick as they used to
be, and neither were his wife’s. The chair, along with shards of
glass came crashing down on top of Wilma as Crass watched. The flat
edge of the chair’s head struck Wilma hard, sending her to the
ground as glass cut into her legs, narrowly missing her main
artery. Crass wanted so badly to go to her rescue but he had no
time to do so. Swiftly following the chair was the furry demon.
Diving, arms and legs outstretched straight down on top of Crass.
With a powerful falling swipe, Bear’s claws sliced straight across
the old man’s face, causing Crass to accidentally fire a shot from
his pistol. Bear landed awkwardly on the ground but it didn’t
matter, his powerful claws disarmed the doctor, and that was his
main objective. Blood poured from Crass’s cheek, instantly
immobilizing the old man. Crouched down while he held his face; his
black socks blended in with the dark grass beneath him. Bear turned
his attention to Wilma; he paced towards her with claws now red
from her husband’s blood.

“
No!”
yelled Crass “You can’t have
her!”

Crass
got to his feet and started to run at
the creature, but a mistake on his part caused him to miss his
target.

Crass thought of almost
everything while kee
ping them safe inside the house including making sure they
were living in a personal Fort Knox. The one thing he never thought
of was shoes. Wilma was so particular about not wearing shoes in
the house that, in their haste to leave, they never put any on. Now
Crass was about to step on a particularly large shard of glass,
wearing only socks thanks to his wife’s habits. The shard derailed
his motion, forcing him to collapse under the pain into a rolling
mess on the ground. Bear stood over the unconscious Wilma, claws
outstretched; coiling back his arm like a cobra ready to spit.
Crass knew he very had little time to do anything about it. Pulling
the shard out his foot he dragged his bloodied body to stand.
Determination built up inside him, so he pushed forward a few steps
and lunged towards the attacking stuffed animal. Three feet was
what he hell short by. He could not save his wife; the shard of
glass that was in his foot took that ability away from
him…