The Monster Apocalypse

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

The front door creaked as it opened, like a sound effect from an old Universal monster movie. The house was dead silent, with not even a flickering lightbulb making a noise in an adjacent room. It was dark every direction she looked, and the only light Brin saw came from the staircase leading down to the basement.

She started walking toward the staircase, when an unexpected visitor brought her down to her knees.

"Cleo," Brin said. She knew the group was waiting for her outside, and that she didn't have more than a few minutes to spare—but half a minute dedicated to her gray tabby seemed not like a request, but like a necessity, especially after everything she'd been through today. "Are you all right? Are you having a boring day? I wish I was, too, Cleo." She petted the cat on her head and neck, then rubbed her belly for a few seconds. "Have you seen your Grandma anywhere? Did you see the bad man who took Grandma?"

"Do you still talk to your cat like it's a two year old?" The voice came not from the basement, but from the second story. Brin's older brother Justin appeared behind the bannister, smiling down at his sister. His black hair was disheveled, curling down past his shoulders as if he were the third female in the family. He wore a white shirt, blue exercise shorts, and a pair of old-fashioned brown sunglasses, and held a bottled water and a small white towel in his hands.

"Justin," Brin said. "Hey."

She walked to the front of the staircase, just as Justin ran down it and wrapped his arms around her.

"I was just on my way to the gym, the one on Ghoulish Way. I'm only here for a few days, but they still let you pay by the day, right? Or do you need a membership? I forget."

He was already walking past her, marching toward the front door. Brin grabbed him by his shirt and pulled him back toward her.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa—you're not going anywhere," she said. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Justin brushed some hair out of his face and pushed Brin's hand away. "What? Am I not allowed in my own house?"

"No, of course you are. I'm just... did Mom tell you to come home?"

He shook his head. "No, no. My semester as SFU doesn't start until next week, so I thought I'd come home for a few days. Kick back, relax, hang out with you, have some deep, long conversations with Mom..." The level of his voice started quieting with each word he said. Then he smiled. "No, yeah, Mom asked me to come home. Said you've had a rough couple of weeks and could use some brotherly love. She said two of your friends at school were murdered? How are you handling that?"

Brin thought for a moment. Was it still only two? "No, it's a whole lot more than two at this point," she blurted out.

Justin gave her a blank expression. "What do you mean?"

"Nothing. How long have you been here?"

"About an hour," he said, stretching out his legs. "Have you seen Mom? I tried her cell and she's not picking up."

He again started backpedaling toward the door, but Brin kept a firm grip on his shirt. "Justin, I'm not going to lie to you."

"Uhh, OK."

"Things are bad."

"What do you mean, things are bad?"

"As in... they're bad."

"How bad?"

"Really bad."

"Well, that's good," he said, tapping his fingers against his chest, like nothing was the matter. "I mean... that's not good, I guess. For you, anyway. It's good I came home. I know I haven't been around much, Brin, but you know I care about you. If you're having trouble dealing with anything bad that's happened, I'm here to help you. And I want you to tell me about it. As you know, we've both been there. With Dad."