Excerpt from_An Intruder Lurks

Orrick’s light tickled over dark blotches marked on the heap of clothing.  He stared, studying the rusty coloration – some of the clothing was practically saturated and stiff.  It reeked of copper, and rot.

Blood?  Was that blood?  Orrick backpedaled; no way was he touching it.  He crossed the few feet to the far side of the basement, and the stairs that led up into the yard.  Orrick stuffed his flashlight under arm and gripped the sliding latch.  The metal squealed, but wouldn’t budge.  He checked with his light, and tried again; this time bracing his feet to a step.  The brick in the step came loose and rolled away as Orrick wrenched at the latch.  He caught his breath, gagging on the rank air.

He paused, and listened acutely.  The floor above was thin and wooden, which allowed terrifying acoustics to rattle down.  The backdoor a few feet above creaked shut, and a series of methodical shifting of boards echoed down.

The latch of the basement panels whined and protested, but would not relent – it was rusted fast.  Orrick left the door and crossed to the small window, eight feet above his head and fixed into a seamless cement wall.  Orrick tries a running leap, kicks up the wall and snags the window frame, but falls to his feet.  He tries again and again, while taking periodic pauses to listen and determine where the occupant of the home has moved.  Above, there was silence.

Did he hear him?  Or was he in bed?

At once Orrick recalled the deep tub.  It could give him the leverage he needed.  He rushed back to the tub and used all his might to turn it over, spilling the contents of foul water across the floor, and soggy lumps.  His light doesn’t catch the sight of the tubs contents, he doesn’t want to know.  He raced back to the window and flipped the tub down.  He climbed atop the metal surface, but stopped.  Above, there was some shuffling; Orrick couldn’t decide where it was coming from.  Directly overhead.

Orrick coiled up and leapt, his hands caught the inner edge of the frame but his soapy grasp tore loose.  He slammed to his side, the metal tub scuttled thunderously across the floor and out of sight.  He tensed and whimpered; feeling tingling in his shoulder.  His concern was not if he broke his arm, his attention strained to track the breezy movements zipping across the floor above.  Orrick dragged his stunned body across the floor to the wooden staircase, which led to the upper floor.  He hid behind the ratty frame, and listened as the door clicked.