The Lurker at the Threshold : A Horror Mystery Read online

  Mr. Kalabraise barked.

  “Sounds like a yes to me,” Macky said.

  “It was a protest,” Millie told him.

  “Aren’t you edgy?” Macky said.

  “You can have some when we save the city,” Millie said. “We have too much to do.”

  “What are you, my mother?”

  “Would it matter?”

  “Guess not,” he said.

  —

  They took the stairs to Macky’s office. Capshaw and Armitage brought up the rear, both with a book Armitage had brought from the university. Capshaw had a pencil, making notes in the margins of the one he was reading. Armitage adjusted his glasses, using his index finger to keep his place.

  Macky got to the door and opened it. He stepped inside, Capshaw and Armitage following.

  “Why do feel like I should’ve seen this coming,” Macky said, stopping with his hand on the doorknob.

  Like Millie’s apartment, the Archive Room in the Museum, and now Macky’s office, the place had changed. The office was still there—the desk, chair, coat rack, but the orbs had grown, piling behind Macky’s desk. It looked like a nest.

  The room had turned into a patchwork of several realities. Landscapes, dreamscapes, and scenes looked familiar. Part of Macky’s desk and the floor were here. Eddies moved in the air, circular formations of stars, glowing orbs that were part of Yog-Sothoth, even though he was on the other side of space. Maybe when the 13th Gate opened, he would have complete access. Macky could make out the slice of a desert, the moon above the dunes. Another place like ancient Egypt was visible, the home of the Mad Arab. The other was the farm he’d seen earlier. Cows in pastures, the man in coveralls with a pitchfork.

  “Can several portals be opened in the same place?” he asked.

  “I’m not sure there’s a law that limits them,” Armitage said.

  The farmhouse, the land beyond was glowing with light. Someone had added to the structure, an extension to the left-wing. The swirling taking place in the office was a mix of the same tarry stickiness.

  “Yog-Sothoth is the gate!” a voice said. “Yog-Sothoth is the way!”

  The voice was the same, throaty, diabolical intonation that had come from Gomory and where Mike had been digging. The orbs grew, brightened, and gained another dimension.

  “Dev, let’s get out of here,” Millie said.

  “Something isn’t right,” Macky said, turning one way, then the other.

  “You think this is normal?” Millie asked.

  Mr. Kalabraise barked at the orbs. Capshaw and Armitage walked slowly towards the door.

  Macky picked up the phone on the desk. Before he could get the operator to say Innsport 6-5000, another voice chimed in: “That which can eternal lie . . . you have opened the Seventh Gate. Scar thanks you. You will be rewarded.”

  Macky put the phone down.

  “What is it, Dev?” Millie asked.

  “Prank call. It said the Seventh Gate was already open. We’re more than halfway there.”

  Mr. Kalabraise continued to bark.

  “Dev, let’s go,” Millie said.

  He nodded and backed toward the door like Capshaw and Armitage. He shut the door once they were in the hallway.

  They hurried down the stairs.

  —

  Once they were on the streets, Macky turned and saw a strange-looking creature with kangaroo legs and claw-like arms. It had no ears. Its eyes were enormous, a mouth of sharp, pointed teeth. It was heading toward a woman running down the street. She clutched a baby to her chest.

  “Millie, gun,” he said, holding out his hand.

  She reached into the car, grabbed her purse, pulled out the .38, and handed it to Macky. He took aim and fired. The bullet sailed wide.

  The creature stopped and hissed at him. The woman with the baby disappeared around the corner.

  “I think you just made it mad,” Armitage said.

  “Yeah,” Macky said. “But I distracted it.”

  The thing was coming toward him. Macky aimed, fired a second time, and missed again.

  “No practice,” he said.

  The thing hissed and screeched—a full-blown wail. He tossed the gun to Millie, who caught it by the handle, took aim, and fired. It was no more than five-feet from Macky when it hit the ground. She shot it in the forehead, dead center.

  “Thanks, Mill,” he said.

  “Anytime, Dev.”

  Other things were visible he hadn’t noticed. Giant wasps, bodies that were somehow crustaceous, like a lobster, flew cumbersomely through the air. Their heads and faces were devoid of features, the sound of their wings beating fast, buzzing loudly. Their faces were an illuminated mass of dripping fungus. Enormous, gossamer wings, like dragonflies, blurred as they moved.

  “In the car, hurry,” Macky said.

  They poured into the coupe.

  Macky turned on the ignition and hit the accelerator.

  —

  “Hi, Jerry,” Macky said. “Is Duke or Newt in? I’m guessing they have their hands full.”

  Jerry was on the phone and put his finger up. He was listening to someone intently. He wrote several things down, told the person he would have someone check on whatever the problem was, and hung up.

  Captain Warrens was on vacation. Again. The mayor was with him, and Jerry was trying to man the station alone.

  “What was that, Dev?” Jerry asked.

  “Duke and Newt? Are they in?”

  “They’re investigating that hound business. I’m not sure I could get a hold of them if I wanted to. I just have to wait till they call in or we see them again. Hi, Miss Millie. That’s an interesting outfit you have on.”

  Millie gave a wide smile and curtsied.

  “Thanks, Jer,” Macky said.

  They left and got in the car.

  Macky was about to turn the ignition when a figure wearing a turban ran around the corner of the police station with a book in hand.

  Macky put the car in gear and lurched onto the road.

  —

  “Did anybody see that?” he asked.

  “What, Dev?” Millie asked.

  “That guy. I think I just saw Abdul with The Necronomicon.”

  “You’re kidding?” Capshaw said from the backseat.

  Macky pulled the car to a stop around the next corner. There was no sign of the Mad Arab.

  “This is getting annoying,” he said.

  The setting had changed again. A house on a hill was flickering light behind the windows. Storm clouds gathered above. Something else was happening behind the façade.

  “Do you happen to have a flashlight, Dev?” Armitage asked. “With everything going on, it’s hard to read back here.”

  “Maybe in the glovebox?” Macky said. “Millie?”

  “Whatever you say, sailor.”

  He continued to look up and down the street. There was no sign of the Mad Arab.

  “Here ya go,” Millie said, handing back a flashlight she found in the glovebox.

  “Much obliged,” Armitage said.

  Macky continued to sit behind the wheel, thinking. “Have you guys found anything useful in those books yet?”

  “Most of the stuff we already know,” Armitage said. “There are no indications of how to close the gates. I’m not sure that’s an option anymore. We might need another plan for that.”

  “Do you have a plan?” Millie asked Macky.

  “Not really. Do I ever?”

  She shrugged.

  He put the car in drive and started down the road.

  “Where are we going?” Millie asked.

  “The only place I can think of.”

  —

  Macky parked the car in front of Amelia’s Used Books. He’d met Amelia during the Dagon business two years ago, not realizing the information she’d provided about Haddonfield would be crucial.

  Amelia, who had a terrible stutter, had been introduced to Newt after the affair was over. They were marr
ied months later. Newt had been bringing her out of her shell. Love did that to people. She still stuttered but not as bad. They made a home for themselves in the apartment behind the bookstore, separated by a single curtain, but the place was homey and pleasant.

  The bookstore was closed. He tried the knob to make sure. It was locked. Macky banged on the window.

  “Newt! Amelia! Hey, you guys in there?”

  “Discretion was never his strong suit,” Millie told Capshaw and Armitage. Armitage smiled.

  “Mi-gos,” Armitage said, looking at the book in his hand.

  Macky pulled his hand from the window and looked at Armitage. “Excuse me?”

  “Mi-gos,” the doctor repeated. “The winged creatures we saw in the sky. They’re called mi-gos. I thought you’d want to know.”

  “Is that relevant to the moment?”

  “It’s quite relevant to the moment, Dev,” Armitage said. “It’s good to know you’re enemy.”

  “You’ve been logging in some long hours,” Macky said. “And for that, I thank you.”

  “You may now proceed with your yelling and banging,” Armitage said. He stuck his finger in the book, using the flashlight to read.

  Macky frowned. Millie looked at him, holding Mr. Kalabraise, and shrugged.

  Macky went to the window, cupping his hands around his eyes. He peered inside. “I don’t see anybody.”

  “Maybe they’re asleep,” Millie said.

  “How late is it?”

  Armitage looked at his watch. “Twelve thirty-seven.”

  “A.M. or P.M.?” Macky said. He slapped his thigh and guffawed. He wiped tears from his eyes. He was laughing hard. Everyone looked at him, eyebrows raised.

  “Come on!” he said. “You didn’t think that was funny?”

  No one replied. It was quiet on this part of the street. He hated to make such a racket, but he didn’t have a choice. He started banging on the window again.

  “Hey, you guys in there! Amelia! Newt!”

  “Discretion again,” Millie said, calmly.

  “I saved your neck at Sarnath, you know?” Macky said. “And your little dog. The least you could is show some gratitude instead of making sarcastic remarks.”

  “She has a name,” Millie said. “And it’s, Mr. Kalabraise.”

  “You gave a female dog a male appellation?” Armitage said, raising his eyes over his glasses.

  Millie shrugged. “I believe in the uniqueness of character.”

  “She’s got you there,” Capshaw said.

  “Besides I saved you, too,” Millie told Macky.

  “Huh?” he asked.

  “The kangaroo monster.”

  “Right. I already thanked you for that.”

  “And you are most welcome.” Millie beamed.

  “What about your lock-picking set, Dev?” Capshaw said.

  “This is why I need people around me,” Macky said.

  He pulled out the lock-picking set for the third time that day. He did a little maneuvering with the deadbolt. He asked Armitage to shine the light where he was working. Soon, the lock clicked. He turned the knob and pushed the door open.

  They stepped inside.

  “I don’t see anybody,” Capshaw said.

  Macky went to the curtain dividing the shop from the apartment in back. “Newt! Amelia! You guys here?”

  The bookstore was empty.

  “Where is everybody?” he asked.

  “Over here,” a voice said from the dark.

  Chapter 14

  “I’ll tell you something, Duke, being in love might be the dandiest thing this side of caramel and peanut butter.”

  “I never cared much for caramel or peanut butter,” Duke said.

  “Was this how it was for you and Vera? Were you guys madly in love for the first couple of years? Didn’t you think it was the best thing that could’ve happened to you? I mean, it’s just swell! It’s like a ride at the amusement park!”

  “They only last a couple of minutes.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Amusement park rides.”

  “You’re just being cross,” Newt said, and got back on track. “All your life you’ve been waiting for this thing to arrive, and when it gets here, it’s just incredible! Don’t you think? I never thought a person could feel this way. I even started liking her stutter, Duke. Sounds cute to me. She doesn’t stutter like she used to, sure, so that’s gotta mean something, right?”

  “She’s getting used to talking back to you.”

  “Don’t say things like that. Seriously. Amelia and I are just great. She’s like the bacon to my potato, the mushroom to my garlic.”

  Duke looked at him and frowned.

  “We’ve had a few disagreements and things,” Newt went on. “It’s not perfect. I know that. But she’s sweet. Caring. You know? Thoughtful. She likes to make sure you’re happy.”

  “And what do you do to make her happy?”

  “I rub her feet, make her dinner, and treat her to breakfast whenever I can. I cuddle with her. She likes that. I talk to her. We talk all the time. We never run out of things to talk about. We listen to those mystery shows on the radio, The Phantom Caper, Duck’s Bill. You listen to those, Duke?”

  “No.”

  “You’re not feeling it, are you?”

  “I never said that,” Duke told him, walking along the alley.

  “So, what’s the problem?”

  “I don’t have one.”

  “It sounds like you do.”

  “Well, I don’t.”

  They continued down the alley. The steady drip-drip of water was coming from somewhere to their right. They were off Columbus and 116th, chasing a dog, or a hound, or something that had killed two people already. You’d never know it because Newt was still—after two years—deeply, madly, and passionately in love. Duke didn’t know whether to be sick, flattered, or jealous.

  “But you had kids,” Newt went on.

  “Shocking, isn’t it?”

  “And you’ve been married for almost thirty years. Right?”

  “Thirty-two years, April second,” Duke said.

  “Thirty-two years. Wow! That’s something, Duke. That really is. Congratulations. I hope me and Amelia get to say that someday.”

  “Do you really rub her feet?”

  “She giggles because it tickles.”

  “Giggles because it tickles. If Macky were here, he’d turn that into a song.”

  “You might be right,” Newt said. “I hope they’re doing okay.”

  “We'll check on them soon. Keep your eyes peeled. You’re distracted.”

  “I ain’t, though, Duke. I’m just thinking about how nice it is. It feels good. It makes the time go by, gives you something pleasant to think about. Even now. I know we’re out here chasing some creature and all, and it’s killed a police officer already, but I’m not letting it get me down.”

  “Maybe you should. This is serious.”

  “Sure, it’s serious. I know it’s serious. Portals opening. Gates. Gomory. Or whatever he is. The orbs in Macky’s office. How can you not take that stuff seriously? But I got something to look forward to when I get home, and that’s something.”

  “There might not be a home if we don’t find this thing. Are you keeping an eye out?”

  “Sure. Sure. So, what’s the deal with you and Vera, huh? Don’t you have the spark anymore?”

  “There is no spark.”

  “No spark? Whattaya mean? There has to be! How can you stay together for thirty-two years and not maintain a spark?”

  “It’s faded,” Duke said. “There might’ve been a spark at one time, but it’s gone.”

  “But there was a spark?”

  “I can’t remember, to be quite honest.”

  “Can’t you be serious for two seconds?”

  “I’ve never been more serious in my life.”

  Newt Bardhoff grunted. He was trying to see the humor in the situation, but he was remiss.
He didn’t know why.

  “Look, Newt,” Duke said. He stopped and looked at his partner. Newt stopped and looked back. “I appreciate what you’re going through and how you feel. And I think it’s great. I really do. It’s magical. But you gotta get your head outta the clouds. It’s dangerous. We’re in the middle of something here, and we gotta get to the bottom of it. You understand what I’m saying?”

  “Sure, Duke. Sure. I’m sorry, huh? I guess I just wanted a little guidance, a little fatherly wisdom from a man who’s been happily married for over thirty years. I respect that. I admire it. And I guess it passes the time. Plus, the fog is getting thick. And things are strange now. I get that, too. Are you going to poor Muncie’s funeral?”

  “Of course. If we make it that far.”

  The fog was rolling in. It was hard to see because of it. The trail of the hound through the city of Innsport had been futile. Duke and Newt had no idea where to go or what to do. They were tracking where they’d tracked once before because they’d never seen the thing, not clearly. Muncie had been on his usual beat, and that was the last anyone had seen him.

  Things weren’t normal. They wouldn’t be normal for some time probably. But maybe Newt had a point. Maybe some light conversation was the thing they needed.

  Duke looked at his partner again. “I was the same way. I wanted everything to work out, but the real world is still out there. It’s not that it’s bad. You just have to realize that infatuation has to be replaced with something deeper. The touches aren’t as frequent, the ‘I love yous.’ But it’s still good. You get to know each other’s faults and weaknesses. That’s not a bad thing. It’s a good thing. And the challenges come. The battles. You see what you’re made of. You see what she’s made of. You understand a depth of loyalty and devotion if you’re lucky, and you realize after a while that you couldn’t have done it alone. You’re in a good spot, Newt. You two have something special. That’s obvious. The honeymoon stage doesn’t last that long for a lot of people. What do I know? Maybe you’re both nurturing it together. I’m not gonna tell you how to run your relationship. It’s different for everybody, but it’s special, what you have. And that’s good.”