Page 8 of Back To Our Beginning

I heard a man’s voice bellow from inside the house and Colleen flinched. Damn, if she had any sense, she’d take this opportunity to get the hell out of there.

“You need to leave,” Colleen whined.

Again, I didn’t hear what Maddie said.

“Now. You need to leave now.” Colleen was clearly agitated.

Another bellow sounded inside the house.

Colleen looked behind her, then looked back at Maddie. I could tell Maddie was saying something by the way Colleen’s eyes were narrowing.

“Fine. Come on in. See for yourself.”

Then, somehow, Maddie was slipping by Colleen, and then the door shut behind her.

My mouth went dry. This was not good, not good at all.

“Are you just going to stand here?” Mrs. Owens looked at me.

“No, ma’am.”

“If you go through the backyard, watch out for the dog. Do you need my rifle?”

Her offer was the first thing in this whole nightmare that made me smile. “I think I’ll be fine without it, but thank you, ma’am.”

“Well, get going.”

She turned around and stalked to her porch, then sat down on her rocking chair, her rifle lying over her lap.

I shook my head and turned back to the Jacksons’ house. The fence to the backyard was busted in one section. It was wide enough for me to squeeze through.

As soon as I saw the backyard, I figured out that they didn’t bother to pay for trash collection. They just threw most of their garbage into it. It was disgusting. The smell was noxious. Buried in the dirt near the back fence was an old tractor tire with a chain attached.

Aw, shit.

A half-starved pitbull was connected to the chain and didn’t even have the strength to lift his or her head. Hell, I couldn’t even tell if the poor thing was a Staffordshire Bull Terrier or an American Staffordshire Terrier, it was so emaciated. What kind of people did this to a dog?

This place just got worse and worse.

I peered through one of the grimy windows. I could see it was a bedroom. The sheet that was supposed to be covering it was only tacked up with one nail, so I had a clear view. It looked like a kid’s room or had been a kid’s room at one time. There was one poster on the wall of a Disney character, and the same character on a dirty blanket, but there weren’t any toys, and the carpet was half pulled up to show the concrete beneath. Hell, there were three spots where it was clear someone had punched holes in the sheetrock.

I went to the next window, and that one had the sheet covering the whole thing, so I couldn’t look in. I listened intently, but I couldn’t hear a sound.

Then I climbed up the five steps that led to the back porch. The screen door and the main door were cracked open. I turned to ice, just like I did on any mission. I put my ear up to it to see what I could hear. Murmurs. Voices too low to make out.

Then I heard a rustling sound. But not from inside. I listened closer and realized it was coming from below.

A raccoon under the porch?

I kept my ears open to what was going on inside, then I heard a whimper from down below.

Eli!

I jumped lightly from the porch, not making a sound, then peered under. I saw the whites of a scared little boy’s eyes.

Another soft whimper.

He was curled up against the back stair, barely visible.