The Drive-In

12

Steve opens one eye carefully, but the morning light still manages to sting it. As he tries to sit up and slide off the bed, the room spins again, and a new pounding starts in his head,

Jesus! What the hell happened?

He looks down at himself, still wearing the same clothes as yesterday, except for his neatly positioned sneakers at the foot of his bed, not by the closet where he usually kicked them off. Weird.

Not ready to hit the shower, Steve opts for a change of clothing. He's halfway through putting on his Pyjamas when he hears someone yell, "No!" Steve snaps his head towards the noise, and his hand instinctively falls to his nail bat propped up against his dressing table. Something catches his eye on the bed, a flash of denim, and some weird zombie-looking guy on a patch.

Eddie!

Steve searches around his room quickly, and there is no sign of Eddie except his vest.

Steve's grip tightens on his bat, but he tries to reason with himself. It's ok. That monster was sent back to its hell dimension. Eddie was probably passed out downstairs or something.

Steve takes a deep breath and tries to count to ten but only makes it to five before he bolts out of his door, sneaking down his hallway. As he passes, he peers down the stairs.

Everything looks ok. Steve quickly but quietly rushes downstairs only to find furniture in disarray and Eddie's jacket on the floor, but again no Eddie.

He does a sweep of the downstairs, but Eddie is nowhere to be found. Then Steve finds Eddie's little black lunch box open, rifled through, and left on the kitchen counter, and this sends him into full prepare for battle mode.

This was not good. Steve didn't know Eddie very well, but he knew Eddie wouldn't leave anywhere willingly without these three things. They were his identity, his business. So Steve expects the worst, walks outside, and looks down into the pool. Thankfully no sign of him in there.

Steve heads back upstairs, and all the rooms he checks are empty. As he goes to check the last one, the guest room, the door is locked. Steve feels a sense of relief. He must be in here.

He gently wraps on the door with his knuckles, "Munson? You ok?"

At first, the only answer he gets is silence, then some muffled sounds and a faint, "Steve?"

"Yeah, it's just me, sorry. Just checking if...um...you wanna coffee?" Steve grasps for a lie to excuse himself.

Another patch of silence.

"No, please. No!" he hears Eddie's voice getting a little louder. It sounds weird.

Steve knocks on the door again, "Eddie? You ok in there?"

"Stop. I won't...again," Steve hears Eddie's voice plead, but it gets fainter again.

Steve frantically bangs on the door, "Eddie? EDDIE?!"

Silence.

Steve tries the door handle again, in vain.

What if that thing was back? It plucked Will straight out of his shed, or the one that could turn into mush and slide under doors. What if it was one of those dog things? Christ! What if the Russians had him in there, thinking he was Steve?

Steve starts shoulder barging the door until the door suddenly gives way, and he flies into the room, nail bat ready to swing.

There's a thud and an ear-splitting scream. Steve rounds towards it. Only to find Eddie crawling backwards away from him on the floor, looking completely horrified, and shielding himself with a stool.