Mr. 8

Chapter 21: 6:26 a.m.

The revolver kept a steady aim on Eddie's chest. Danny's arm never wavered, while his bare feet moved down the stairs without a sound.

He may have dressed in a hurry, but considering his intense paranoia, it made more sense that he didn't want to be caught naked when his enemies came for him, and he had only removed his sock and his heavy work shirt when he went to bed.

The fire had died down during the night, and the room was too cold to be wearing only jeans and a T-shirt. But it didn't seem to bother him. His rage had likely raised his body temperature several degrees.

Just before he reached the bottom, he called out, "Alvin, get your lazy ass down here."

Denton's attention was immediately drawn to the thumps and clatters coming from upstairs. There was a loud squeak of unoiled hinges and then Alvin stumbled out onto the landing in nothing but his boxers.

"What's going on?" he asked, in a groggy voice.

"Looks like we have a traitor." The last word was accentuated by the creak of a wide maple floorboard as it took his weight. He kept the same precision gait, heading through the seating area to Eddie. "It's not like that." Eddie held his hands up limply. It wasn't so much a sign of surrender, as it was one of defenselessness.

"Listen, I can explain," Denton said.

Danny took the gun off Eddie and swung it around toward Denton. The muscles in his arm and neck were strained and protruded from his skin like the rigid roots of a tree.

"If you say one more fucking word, I'll shoot you in your fucking face."

Without conscious thought, Denton backed up and put a dining room chair between him and the pistol.

"He wants to help," Eddie said. The barrel swiveled back to him. Danny took a few predatory steps forward. "What you didn't think I couldn't hear you up there? Didn't think stupid Danny would hear you plotting against him? Hmm? All it took was a few minutes of his venom and you turn your back on us."

There was something oddly calculating about the way Alvin was creeping down the stairs. Until now, the redhead had only shown signs of rambunctious action. Was this a situation he didn't want to get in the middle of? Or did he sense some unseen threat? The expression on his face was inscrutable.

"I didn't turn my back on anyone. We're all on the same side. He can get the police to help. We don't have to fight them alone anymore." Danny forced a laugh and then in a mocking voice said, "The police will help. Yeah, right. They'll lock us up so fast your head will spin. And then the invaders will be free to overrun the town." "But we can't do it on our own."

"Yes, we can. We've done it all on our own. We almost have it contained. There are only a few more of them left."

Alvin stopped just behind Danny. His eyes darted from one friend to the other, as each of them spoke. Did he have conflicting loyalties? Might he side with Eddie and disarm Danny?

Whatever he was thinking, all of his attention was on the other two. And all of Danny's attention was squarely on Eddie. It didn't take Denton more than a second to determine there was only one potential way out. The front door and the stairs were blocked. The bathroom was a dead end. He'd never get a window open fast enough. That left the dark gulf of the hallway. Framed with roughhewn boards, the opening sat between the living and the dining area. He had no idea what was down there or where it led. The lights had always been off and his myopic vision was unable to penetrate it. But it was his only hope.

He took a slow, tentative step toward it. His gaze was firmly locked on Danny and Alvin, trying to detect any twitch—any sign that they might turn towards him.