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The Ghost War (Chapter 2, Part 1)

The Ghost War

Halfbrick

Date: Tuesday, 24-May-11, 17:56 | Message # 1

The Supreme Overlord

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Tommy jogged past the two twin poplar trees that bordered the signpost into Garrett Road, where Jack lived. Once on the other side, he stopped and panted, trying to keep a low profile. He fumbled around in the back pocket of his jeans and withdrew his phone, a small black Samsung. He pressed a button and accessed the database that stored each of his contacts. He scrolled down the list until he found Jack’s number. He pushed the green button and waited. Nothing happened. Impatiently, he stabbed at the button over and over, but still there was no ring. Sighing, he got to his feet and began to run down the road to Jack’s house.

“What was that?” Chris was always the inquisitive type. Jack wasn’t confident he knew, but replied anyway.
“Probably just a stray. Em’s dealt with it, you know her.”
“It didn’t sound like any cat I’ve ever heard. We should go and check.”
“You’re right. If she’s hurt, we can’t let her lie there. But I tell you, it’s probably nothing.” But Jack’s confident facade gave way to an unsure face within seconds of opening the door. He saw a shadow flicker in the corner of his eye. “What was that?” That came from Chris. Clearly he had heard it too. They crept down the dark corridor – there being no windows – and stopped at the door, barely daring to open it. Jack gripped the door tightly and pushed hard. The door was never stiff, but it was habit and Jack could never stop himself.
Before even catching a glimpse of the kitchen, they covered their eyes. The tension was unbearable. After about ten seconds, Jack separated his fingers for a glance and instantly regretted it. Em wasn’t there. Em had disappeared. And they suddenly became aware of a rhythmic banging from just outside the house.

Tom ran breathlessly up the road, pausing only to glance at each house in turn and make a mental note of the numbers. When he came to Jack’s house, Tom stopped, giving himself time to catch his breath, before walking briskly up the drive and rapping on the door. He panted, breathing heavily and slowly as the door failed to open. Something was wrong. Instinctively, Tom peered into the keyhole. There was no key, and when he pushed the door it opened. Very worried now, he went inside.

What up? I say "indeed" a lot.
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